#i do not think i am going to tag this with every single character. that would be. many.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: told myself to slow down, didn’t.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You finish your cocktail before you go into the concert hall. Roxie grabs a third and you pass, not wanting to run back and forth to the bathroom. Besides, you don’t really like the way the vodka stirs in your stomach and little behind your eyes.

The band is decent. You don’t know any of the songs and only vaguely heard of the artist they are a tribute to. Still, you enjoy the live show; you focus on their instruments and how they use them. You always wanted to be musical but never had a sense of tone or melody.

By the end of the set, you’re yawning. Your sister is on her fourth drink and you can’t tell if she’s swaying to the music or if it’s more than that. As the rows empty, you shuffle out with the rest of the concert goers. The bright lights of the casino greet your squint and your ears pulse slightly from the noise of the strumming and crashing show.

“Mm, so, what’d’ya say?” Your sister makes almost every word into one, “how do we spend this?”

She fishes out the chip and you give a sheepish frown. You almost forgot about it. You still think you should turn it in. You don’t feel right spending someone else’s money. You do that often enough, much too old to be living off your mom.

“Don’t be boring,” she warns, “jeez. It’s just cards. Odds are, whoever dropped it, would’ve lost it to the house anyway.”

She claps her hand around your shoulder. You pull back the sleeve of your cardigan to check the time. It’s after ten! You haven’t been out that late since... ever.

“I’m not boring,” you cross your arms and shrug her off. “I just... am different than you.”

“Boring,” she repeats. “You can’t spend all day in your room.”

Yes, you can. And you do.

You don’t argue. When she’s like this, it’s only bound to become a scene. There are too many strangers around for that.

“Black jack,” she declares and spins the coin. It slips from her grasp and falls between her feet. She bends over shamelessly in her dress to pluck it up. “Come on, let’s clean up.”

She struts ahead and you shuffle after her, nervously wringing the strap of your purse. Hopefully she loses it quickly and you can just retreat home in defeat. You catch up to her as she reaches the stairs. She giggles as she leans on the railing and you take her other arm, trying to support her wobbly steps.

“Want another drink?” She asks.

“No, think we’re good.”

“We?” She scoffs, “I’m fine.”

“Please, Rox, let’s just find a table,” you peek around as her voice rises a bit louder than you like.

“Pfft, fine, but if I win, I'm getting a drink.”

You nod. Go along to get along. That’s what your mother always told you when it came to your sister. She’s more like your father than she cares to admit.

You get to a table and she sits easily on the high seat of the tall stool. She lays down the single chip and the dealer offers to break it into smaller ones. She nods and shrugs. You envy how smoothly she just breezes through things.

You stand behind her. You don’t want to take up a seat and the stool is too much of a climb for you. You can see it wobbling as you attempt to hitch yourself up with the crossbar. You’re good, you shouldn’t get comfortable.

You listen to the shuffle of cards as your sister murmurs something you can’t make out. You can only hear the low drone of voices as you stand back. You sidle out of the way as a man claims the empty stool beside your sister. He buys in and another hand is dealt. Hasn’t she lost yet?

The man leans into your sister and you grimace. She turns her head to listen to him and she giggles. Your cheeks blaze hotly and you cross your arms and rock. Neither seem to notice you as they get closer and closer.

As the game progresses, you can only really make out what the dealer says; the different numbers that have grumbles coming from other players. You bring your hand up to pick at the button on your cardigan. The man puts his arm around your sister’s back, his hand on her hip as wiggles in her seat coyly. What about Tom?

You peer around awkwardly. Do you stop her? Remind her of the boyfriend that got her the tickets for tonight? You bounce in your flats and pause as you find someone else staring back at you. Or are they? Just as quickly as your eyes meet, the stranger’s eyes flit away and he’s back to chatting with another man. It’s the very same man who gave you the chip. Maybe her forgot you. That’s not a surprise.

You return your attention to your sister. The man has moved his arm between them and your sister squirms. You watch his elbow as he pulls his hand back. He’s touching her leg. She’s wiggling and suddenly, she shoves him away and screeches.

“EH! I got a boyfriend, perv! I said stop.”

Her voice carries along the high ceilings and you cringe. You back up, cowering away as she stands and the stool teeters dangerously. She fists her hand and you think for a moment she might just hit the guy. He scoffs and turns in his seat.

“Babe, just wanted to buy you a drink.”

“Whatever. You fucking creep!” She hollers.

“Ma’am,” the dealer calls from the table, “is there a problem?”

“Y-yeah,” she hiccups, “this dude had his hand up my skirt.”

“She’s drunk,” the man shakes his head, “listen to her.”

“I’m--” your sister’s denial catches in her throat, “doesn’t mean he can just touch me.”

“Ma’am, if you’re drunk, we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I’m fine. I'm not that...” She slides off the stool and stands, grabbing the chips in front of her seat and tossing them across the table. “You’re all a bunch of crooks.”

Her ankles tangle as she spins and she barely gets her balance before she storms away. Her strides are uneven as she bobbles drunkenly. You watch after her with wide eyes before you follow. She leads you into the bathrooms as she growls and grumbles. She slams into a stall and you stand outside.

You wait until she comes out. She’s quieter and her eyes are hazy. She washes her hands and applies a new coat of lip gloss.

“What a bust,” she pouts and rolls her eyes, “one more drink and we’ll go.”

“Maybe we should just leave now.”

“That guy was such a pervert,” she sneers at you, “you saw where his hand was.”

You nod, “yeah, I did...”

“So, you know I wasn’t being dramatic.”

“Yeah, but... everyone heard.”

“Oh fuck off,” she pushes your shoulder and stomps past you.

You feel bad. It’s not that she shouldn’t defend herself. You admire that she can, but she didn’t need to be so obnoxious. You trail after her into the casino. She heads directly for the bar. You hang your head and wait behind her. This time, she doesn’t offer you a drink. She’s mad at you now so it’s the silent treatment.

“Honey,” another man approaches, “how about I get that for you?”

“Huh?” She babbles, “oh, sure, baby, that’s sweet.”

The man offers his card to the bartender and orders a highball. He leans his arm on the tall bar top as he faces your sister. She bats her lashes at him and giggles as she pulls her drink closer.

“What’s your name, gorgeous?” He asks.

You blink. It’s like you’re not even there. You watch awkwardly, wishing the floor would swallow you up. Instead, you find an empty stool one seat away.

“Roxie,” she answers as you struggle up onto the seat. “And you, handsome?”

“Sam,” he returns, “what’re you drinking then?”

You notice him touch her glass along the brim but can’t see much else around your sister. She replies and his own drink is served. You shrink down and sigh. She’ll get her free drink and then you can just leave. You hope. You hold your chin as you dread another scene.

“Can I get ya something?” The bartender approaches.

“Er, water, please,” you choke out. He seems disappointed but gets you a glass.

You try not to overhear your sister and that man. It’s awkward and you hate this. It’s not the first time she’s done it either. The few times she’s brought you along, you’ve somehow become a third wheel. It reminds you of when you were kids and your mom forced her to take you with her somewhere. She doesn’t actually want you around, she’s genetically obligated.

“Woah, baby, you okay?” The man raises his voice and your sister’s body slumps. Shoot. No.

You barely get off the stool as the man clings to her drooping body. She giggles wildly as you tweak your ankle and rush over. That man, Sam he called himself, seems somewhat calm given the situation.

“Slow down, babe,” he chortles, “Jesus.”

She’s drunk. You knew she shouldn’t have had another drink. Your eyes meet Sam’s and he squints.

“You know her?”

“My sister,” you murmur.

“Oh, right, well...” he clears his throat and looks around, “you can take care of her then.”

“Wait--” you barely keep her up as she leans on you as she’s almost sideways on the stool.

He’s just leaving you? What the heck? You guess if he can’t get anything out of her, she isn’t worth the effort.

You sniff and struggle to slide your sister down to her feet. She’s heavier than you expect and her height makes her difficult to balance. You glance over as the bartender nears.

“Everything okay?” He asks sternly.

“We’re leaving,” you assure him, “sorry.”

“Five minutes,” he taps his watch face, “or I call security.”

You nod and move your arm around your sister’s back, “please, Rox, gotta work with me.”

She laughs again, “hey, where’d that cute guy go?”

“Please,” you beg again, “don’t...”

“Oh, hi,” she touches your faces and squeezes your cheeks, “baby sister.”

You hate when she’s like this. She’s always been a drinker, ever since high school when her friends would sneak out bottle from their parents’ stash. What was once an act of rebellion as a teen is now concerning as an adult.

“Excuse me, everything okay?” The timbre makes your heart drop and you nearly let go of Roxie as she leans in the other direction.

You look up. Oh god. It’s him. That dark-haired man in his expensive suit.

“I’m just... we’re on our way out--”

“She alright?” He points at your sister.

“Tipsy,” you utter.

“I see,” he pushes his hair back as it slips forward, “can I help?”

“Uh, you don’t--”

Before you can answer, he has your sister’s other arm. He almost lifts her entire weight off of you as he supports her against his shoulder. Your entire body is emblazoned in humiliation. You refuse to look above the floor as you’re certain you must have an audience.

You get your sister across the floor and into a hallway. There's an exit sign ahead but you're all turned around. The man stops you and Roxie.

"Where'd you park?" He asks, "this leads to Lot 5."

"Oh, uh..." you blanch. You hadn't thought of any of that. You slouch under Roxie's weight and try to see around her. "I'm not sure but... I don't drive. She was supposed to."

"Ah," he clucks, "and now she can't."

"Right," you agree glumly, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? Why?" He asks.

"I didn't think... I let her--"

"Did you let her drink or did she make that choice knowing she was supposed to get behind a wheel?" He challenges.

"I guess... yeah. Sorry."

"Really, doll, no need to keep going on like that," he dismisses, "well, it's late and I can't in good conscience let you wander out with her like this. Especially if you don't have a way home."

"I could..." you begin. A taxi? You'd have to ask your mom to pay the driver when you get home. "Why would you... care?"

"Well, as the owner of this establishment, it won't look good on me if two pretty girls left and went missing," he chuckles then stops himself, "sorry, that's not funny. I just... we overserved your sister obviously so it's on us."

"Owner?" You gulp. You didn't think this could be any more humiliating.

"Bucky," he reaches around you sister.

You hesitate. You can't shake his hand properly as yours is around your sister so you just sorta grab his hand briefly and squeeze two fingers, retracting with another raze of embarrasment. You barely squeak out your name.

He repeats your name before he continues, "I'll get you two a room so she can sober up."

"What? No. That's... too much."

"It's late," he insists, "here," he pulls Roxie away from you as her head lolls and she snorts. He lifts her against his chest, carrying her easily. "I know a back way, just follow my lead, doll."

"Ummmmm," you drone and he waltzes back the way he came, hardly detered by the drunken body in his arms. You can only kick yourself and scramble after him. This night could not have ended any worse. Well, you guess it could if it went the way he suggested.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #all in #au #casino au #marvel #mcu #avengers #captain america #winter soldier

[seventh-district]

not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go

(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)

#today's gone Badly and i'm upset but instead of venting abt it i'm gonna channel that energy into doing a bit of tag rambling abt Boothill #well. less abt Him and more abt uh. self-analyzing my anxiety surrounding contributing to fandoms. he's just today's catalyst #like. i know it's mostly a me thing. i'm hypersensitive to criticism and very conflict avoidant + socially anxious + perfectionistic etc. #so I'm the one that keeps myself from posting more stuff out of fear of being criticized or called-out for what i've made #bc inevitably Someone's gonna see it and think its OOC or a problematic take or they'll misread my intent. etc etc what have you #but like. that's inevitable. there's no way to communicate every single thing with all of the nuance required to avoid misunderstandings #and other times it's not a misunderstanding it's just a difference of opinions and that's Fine!! there's no accounting for personal taste #there's no accounting for several things actually. taste‚ bias‚ lore-knowledge‚ differing levels of chronic-online-ness‚ etc #so this isn't me complaining abt the state of fandom culture (although i do think. sometimes. ppl take shit a bit too seriously) #but anyways all of this is mostly just anxiety-fueled. it's not like i very often actually even receive negative feedback or anything #if anything ppl tend to tell me that i'm overthinking it and killing my own fun and worried that my stuff is more OOC than it is #which like. yeah. Yeah u right :) but that's just the way that i am! always losing the idgaf war i suppose #anyways what's Boothill got to do w this ur wondering. well. i've been thinking abt the quickly emerging concept that he's illiterate. #and it just. has me feeling a lot of ways. and watching ppl disagree over it has me feeling some Bad ways. bc it's def a loaded topic! #if you'll pardon the pun there. and i don't rlly have anything new to add other than that i'm conflicted abt it. #like yeah i saw the leaks days ago. of him mentioning 'not hitting the books' much as a child when we ask him why he sends voice messages #or voice Transcriptions ig. ykwim. and like. *braces for impact* ...i liked it? like. it doesn't feel right to call it endearing #i'm not trying to infantilize him. ok that's not the right word either but ugh. you know? what i mean?? who am i kidding even i don't know #it's not quite right to say that it feels like Representation either. but it's something close i guess #as a southern person myself who didn't receive a 'complete' education due to factors that weren't to do with my intelligence #the concept of seeing him as a capable force to be reckoned with and respected who also happens to have not received much formal education #i like that. i do. but there's so many issues w it at the same time. like. as i said‚ being southern myself has me Wary of the way Hoyo is- #writing him. as well as of the way that the fandom is taking the bits of his lore and running away w them. and i'm Very aware of how ppl- #will see a southern character and be All Too Eager to agree that they're lacking intelligence based on our Redneck™ stereotype #sigh. and before we even go too far with this. it's not even confirmed that hes completely illiterate. which is a valid criticism i've seen #there's Multiple reasons that could make him prefer voice to text. but regardless. i'm just worried that ppl will misconstrue my intentions #like. example: that edit i made the other day of him saying 'no thanks i can't read'. wasn't me playing into the stereotype of- #'haha dumb country boy can't read!' it was. in my eyes. something he'd say as a joke to make light of a potential insecurity #like. i think there's far more depth to Boothill's character if ppl could look past the surface. and i dont wanna contribute to the problem #but sometimes ppl Will have stereotypical traits and i wish the same could apply to characters as long as it's done Thoughtfully.

[the-kipsabian]

watching old stuff (like, beginning of aew) and this is kips first match of tv/dynamite. the fact that he can hang with the fucking elite says so much of the level of talent he actually has

the crowd is chanting "this is awesome" while hes in the ring, having winning offense against matt jackson

hes being put on notice here. he makes people take a double take. he doing well in a tag match against the elite. he had a banger before with hangman. he won the first ever singles match in aew history

so fucking by god tell me why is kip sabian still overlook, under rated as all hell and not given opportunities to prove himself when back FOUR YEARS AGO he was this fucking good and now hes even better

#fuck it im tagging it im tired im angry fucking hell #kip sabian #IM SO FUCKING TIRED OF THIS CONVERSATION GOD GET TK ON THE PHONE I WILL YELL AT HIM #like. what fucking gives. what the fuck #i get it he got dealt with few bad cards (jh. miro. injury with long recovery. personal stuff) but still #they completely fucking halted his progress after his initial return. discarded a character with HUGE potential #after he lost to oc all of it went to hell and down the drain and now they just arent using him #do you understand what this does to a fan. like do you get it at all #do you know how fucking irrationally upset and scared i am that aew will just not only cut him from programming but also let him go #because they dont think hes a draw. cause they arent giving him a chance. not even a single one. maybe once in a blue moon #but its not enough. they dont understand what they are missing. and its making me sad and upset and angry #when hes tried so fucking hard and worked so fucking hard and always been so fucking good but they dont see it #god sorry this match got to me but i fucking mean every fucking word god #box thoughts

[wrathoftiamat]

SESSION ONE: The One Where The Party Is (Mostly) Naked In The River

Cy, Elio, & Jupiter are introduced and each make their way to the town of Greenrest where they inevitably collide. We are introduced to each character and aspects of their past and current goals and a threat looming in front of them.

Cylanestriel Blackwood is an elven vengeance paladin who has been a member of the Keepers of the Secret Hoard for seven years after her death and subsequent resurrection. When she first arrived, the dogma of the cult centered around the veneration of dracoliches. In the last few years, with the return of a cultist named Drea Silrajin and her upheaval of the cult, their focus has shifted to prepare for the return of Tiamat. Since her arrival, Cy has ascended in the ranks to the position of Dragonsoul, a military rank under the Wyrmspeakers, the most powerful in the cult. It was her job to break in and train new recruits. Most of the cult is underground, woven through lava tunnels and magically carved barracks For the first time, Cy has been allowed on the surface of the caldera. The air is crisp, the sky is clear. Drea stands above the cultists gathered on the rim of the caldera, amplifying her voice while giving instructions on how the keepers are beginning to mobilize, their efforts to recruit dragons and raids to find treasure for Tiamat's hoard. She finishes with the words, "We will be the only, the holy remembered." Cy has been summoned to Drea's quarters. Along the way, Rezmir, a black dragonborn and one of the wyrmspeakers, gives Cy a butch nod. When Cy arrives, the door of Drea's chambers are cracked open, and she catches a glimpse of Drea looking weary, sunken into her chair. Her little red pseudodragon Nelvik settles onto her shoulders. When Cy politely knocks, she sees Drea reassemble her presentation. Drea wishes to send Cy out into the world on a mission. Cy is eager, yet polite. She has been tasked to go to Greenrest and find Bahamut's Holy Avenger, to claim it for Tiamat's hoard. Cy accidentally reveals she once lived there, and later, instinctively lied about who she was with, to protect the one secret she felt was her own. Halfway through the conversation, Morena Eclissi barges in, evidently late for the meeting. She and Drea share tense eye contact before Morena sits and joins the conversation. Drea reveals that Morena will also be coming to Greenrest, only days after Cy. While Cy has been tasked to retrieve the Holy Avenger and return to the cult, Morena and Rezmir have been tasked with heading an invasion and finding a civilian who has been unraveling secrets about the keepers. When Cy is excused, she lingers, eavesdropping on Drea and Morena. She listens to them briefly flirt, before Drea explains that Morena is to cause as much clamor and attention as possible. Cy leaves when they start to flirt again and realizes there's no more information to be gained. [FULL TRANSCRIPT]

Before she leaves, Cy retrieves less ornate armor that will not betray her allegiance. She travels on horse to Greenrest, the very same path she took when she left all those years ago. It's the first time she's been alone in years and she still feels like she's being watched. She didn't expect to lie about her time in Greenrest, it's the one secret she was able to protect when she was indoctrinated by the keepers. It is hard to reconcile that with her zeal for Drea's vision.

Elio Eclissi is a dragon-blessed young man, the scion of Bahamut. Recently, he had returned home for the first time in a couple of years to visit his family before completing his Paladin training. When he arrived home, he discovered that his twin sister, Morena, cursed by Tiamat, was nowhere to be found and his parents had no interest in finding her. We meet him dressed in fine, ceremonial armor in a carriage with his father on his way to the temple of Bahamut to swear his oath. Benicio, his father, was rushing the ceremony along, so Elio could compete in the Melee of the Pious. It's an important day, however, the disappearance of his sister, and his parent's indifference, is weighing on him. His carriage is stopped in the street by Fizban, who telepathically communicates with him about his doubts. He tells Elio to choose his own path. Elio wants to go find his sister. Fizban gives him a single golden-scaled gauntlet and tells him to find its owner. He offers to distract Elio's father, Benicio so he can slip away, and asks Elio to do his grocery shopping. Elio slips away into the crowded streets of Waterdeep and finds himself at the shop of Ava, a tiefling blacksmith with fused circular horns. She has often tailored his armor and forged his sword. She looks at the gauntlet and tells him that it was crafted during the last Dragon moot; it was Dwarvish, and he could likely find more information in Greenrest. She gave Elio her cloak to help him disguise his appearance, it's rather large on him and the hood blocks his vision when pulled up. He then does Fizban's shopping and goes to his flat in the city, uses a key to drop them off, sees Fizban's dragonchess board and plays an opening move. He procures a horse, a large white percheron named Odette and sets out onto the road alone for the first time in his life.

Seven years ago, a half-elf, Jupiter King's name was not Jupiter and he was not free. He was an indentured servant, sworn into contract and swimming in debt in a traveling carnival. He was one of their finest aerialists. Tonight, the circus had a bevy of important guests. His boss, a summer eladrin named Caprice cornered him and pressures him to perform a truly incredible act, with only twenty minutes until curtain. Jupiter originally mouths off, but then reluctantly agrees to 'get it together'. When Caprice leaves, Jupiter flips him off. Foxglove, a shifter, attempts to comfort him by giving him an awkward shoulder pat and more information on the mysterious, important guests. The night proceeds with the circus' best foot forward, performances full of air and sophistication, except for a displacer beast too many. Eventually, it is Jupiter's turn to perform. HIs specialty is in aerial silks and trapeze. He starts with a silk routine, set to ethereal music to appeal to the visiting fey. It is full of sudden drops, twists, and turns. At one point he makes eye contact with a small dragon, settled on a pillow. She has opalescent scales, large luna moth wings, and they're watching Jupiter intensely. When he gives them one of his performance smiles, she appears to be delighted. When his performance is through, Jupiter begins to do maintenance backstage. Caprice is furious. He berates Jupiter for upstaging his other acts. Jupiter is sweltering from the heat of Caprice's rage, who punishes him by making him collect trash on the grounds like he did when he was a child. Foxglove cuts in and gets Caprice to back off for now, but his rage is far from quelled. Armed with a broom, Jupiter heads out as the crowd disperses, accidentally bumping into a taller man with locs in platinum armor. Jupiter is unaware that this is Bahamut. Jupiter furiously doing chores. As he goes to take the last bit of garbage out, he sees a small group gathered farther away from the tent at the edge of the light. This group includes the same man he bumped into, the faerie dragon, and an archfey. He immediately tries to eavesdrop. The faerie dragon Dasha gossips with the Archfey, who has glittering silver fish scales across his body. Both Dasha and Bahamut catch him listening, though Dasha is the one to speak. She is captivated by him and impressed that he is self-trained. She gives him their name and he introduces himself as Enivyre. Dasha asks to have his name. He's not doing much with his name. He gives it to Dasha. In return, she tells him that soon someone will change his life and hit him like a bolt of lightning, and that some time in the future, the name Silvergleam will be important to him. She gives him a gift, evidently, a regift of something Bahamut gave her. A vial of glowing liquid that functions as a lantern of revealing. When Jupiter looks up, Dasha is gone. When he comments on this, the fish Archfey is also gone. Only Bahamut is left. He converses briefly with Jupiter, telling him he enjoyed the show before walking off. Two weeks later, with the help of a paladin named Cassiopeia, Jupiter escapes. Now, Jupiter King is an inquisitive rogue running odd jobs for Rian Nightshade, a spy in an organization that operates in Waterdeep. She has a job for him. Rian instructs him to find Jenna Silvergleam in Greenrest. Jupiter, with some friendly banter and complaining, leaves towards Greenrest. While he goes south, Cassi is heading north. When they depart from each other, they ask for Ilmater, her deity, to watch over each of them. [FULL TRANSCRIPTS]

Greenrest is a small mountain town nestled around a central keep. There's a river winding its way around the far side of town, a small church, businesses and homes litter the street. There appears to be some sort of festival in swing.

Elio is the first to arrive, a knight on his white horse, however, his cloak is covered in dirt and he looks haggard. He is not used to living on the road. A villager approaches him and offers him a circlet of autumnal foliage which he accepts. He learns that they are celebrating the harvest. As he enters town he is pointed towards the leaders of the town:

Governor Nighthill, a regal looking human man. Estéban, a dwarven man, the castellan of the keep who appears to be who's holding the town together. Ellie, An "oddly helpful half-elf".

Elio asks them if they have any information on where he could find a blacksmith who could tell him more about the gauntlet he has. He shows the gauntlet and Estéban is stunned. It is his gauntlet that he lost during the last Dragonmoot. Elio informs him that he was given it by Fizban and is happy to return it to its owner. He is directed towards the keep where he is able to find a place to sleep in the barracks. Elio immediately leaves his things on his bed, including his extremely expensive, gaudy ceremonial armor, and takes his dirty self, clothes, and a bar of soap down to the river to wash himself and his clothes.

Cy rides into town after him and similarly, finds a place for herself at the keep. She sees Elio in the water and doesn't immediately recognize him, but is interested by his massive executioner's sword on the riverbank. She says hello to him and he ends up inviting her, not in any flirtatious way, if she wants to join him in washing her clothes. She accepts. Upon Elio introducing himself, Cy immediately realizes who he is and begins to gauge who he is. She begins asking him questions about himself, realizing her perceptions of who he is based on his sister's viewpoints aren't entirely the person she sees. She begins to empathize with him, but is also beginning to plan on if she can hand him over to the Keepers, specifically Morena.

Meanwhile, Jupiter also enters town. He opts to go under the name Ceres and attempts to ask Estéban and Ellie if they know Jenna Silvergleam. They both seem to but are not sure of her current whereabouts. He also gets directed to the keep and ends up sharing a bunk with, who he doesn't know is Elio. Jupiter sees the extravagant armor on the bed and takes a moment to snoop through Elio's belongings. He doesn't take anything, simply leaves a note telling Elio not to leave his stuff out unless he wants someone to take it. WHen he leaves the keep he notices Elio and Cy by the river, in their underwear, now sparring with their greatswords.

They have very different fighting styles. Elio is controlled and like he's unsure of his own strength, still coming into it. He swings a massive sword but his attacks are still careful and not meant to seriously injure; he's coming at her with the blunt edge. He's much stronger than he looks. Cy hits fast and savage; she still strikes with the flat of her blade but is less concerned about injuring him. Her sword is slimmer and she relies on getting under his guard. Despite this, Elio is overpowering her, that is, until Cy blurts out that she saw Morena on the road on her way here.

This abruptly ends their sparring as Elio is stunned, and shows Cy a picture of Morena inside his locket, trying to ensure they're talking about the same person. They are. Elio is too naive to clue into this coincidence. He is so overwhelmed and thankful, he asks Cy if he can hug her. She accepts; this is the first time she has been hugged in seven years.

Once again, Jupiter has been watching this entire exchange, from half-naked washing their clothes, to half-naked sparring, to half-naked hugging. He is perplexed. Elio eventually sees Jupiter watching and invites him to come down and talk to them. Jupiter is slightly off put, but does, and tells both of them to call him King. They introduce themselves and Jupiter mentions that he is in town looking for someone, but doesn't specify who. Cy says that she's looking for an ornate sword. Elio suggests, since they're looking for things in town and he's waiting to see if his sister arrives, that they could help each other out and keep each other company. They agree to meet later to have pastries.

While Elio waits with pastries, Jupiter continues to poke around town and finds little information. Cy visits the house she used to share when she lived in Greenrest. She almost doesn't recognize it, it's a completely different structure. With some investigation, she realizes the foundations of her home are still there, just blackened and charred from a fire. In those ruins she also finds a rusted, dirty, yet ornate sword with a dragon-wing shaped hilt. The blade is stuck in the scabbard. Later, Elio deduces that it's a magical effect, not mundane rust. Apparently Fizban had passed through the town a few weeks previously, mumbling about fresh produce, and left the sword behind.

The party sleeps through the night. Jupiter wakes early to once again circle town, unable to keep himself from wandering. He notices as the sun rises, a dragon rapidly approaching on the horizon. He turns and fires an arrow at the keep's bell to alert everyone. As the bell rings, we end the session.

#campaign: recaps #tyranny of dragons #i do not think i am going to tag this with every single character. that would be. many.

[jackienautism]

i’m tired of being silent. please please please i can’t be the ONLY person on this goddamn planet who can’t fuckijg stand dylan

#mine #text #the quarry #sorry to dylan enjoyers (aka 95% of the fandom) i just. i i. i just. i cant. i just can’t #he literally made the game almost unbearable for me to play #i’m not usually this much of a hater. it’s just so hard when like everybody else has this love for a character i just cant understand #and like #i DO get why ppl like him though. trust me i do. but i just. fuck man #i’ve already made a post abt why i don’t vibe w/ him. so i’m not going to repeat myself unless necessary #it’s mainly the double standards of this god forsaken fandom lmao that made me dislike him #and like. i KNEW i was gonna be put off by him even before playing the game #bc i felt like the popularity of these types of characters are never well deserved #and then i played and i was right- i was just annoyed #so sorry. i guess. #but i’m not actually #and maybe i’m just whiney or whatever idc if you think i am #i’m just sick of this same character getting popular in every single goddamn fandom i’ve been in #my thoughts #[emma mountebank voice] ok :) i’m done #my TQ tag #TQ

[sparky-is-spiders]

Hi! I’m here suffering from lack of good Archivist!Sasha content as well 😭 On that note, do you have any fic on that topic you would recommend? Or just good Sasha fics in general, (or Jonsasha, if that’s your cup of tea)? Thank you in advance 😊

Tragically, I think there is a general dearth of good Archivist!Sasha content (and just about none of it Jonsasha content, as far as I can tell (and not only is Jonsasha my cup of tea, but the ONLY thing standing between it and the #1 OTP spot (currently occupied by JE) is the fact that the Jonsasha that I desperately crave exists in my brain and nowhere else)). Admittedly, I haven't looked very far into her tag yet (I should rectify that at some point tbh) but I've dug around the Jonsasha tag when I first got into it, and I know at least one fic where Sasha drifts towards Beholding through an interest in office gossip.

In terms of Jonsasha Ao3 has:

This very good Sasha lives fic where Jon shows up to Georgie's with an unconscious Sasha and everyone involved is very confused.

These two fics are cute also. The former is by @/suttttton and is them getting together, the latter is established Jonsasha from @/dickwheelie.

Eyevatar Sasha might actually be thinner on the ground (outside of fix-its where she solves everything and her canon reckless curiosity is completely ignored). Ao3 has:

This fic, which is Jongerry with outsider PoV Sasha. Just barely has the implication that she might be shifting towards the Eye (via prying into the lives of her coworkers) but gets a mention through sheer force of Excellent Sasha Characterization. I read this and I feel like I'm reading a fic from a Sasha Understander.

There's also this fic, which looks very promising but which I haven't actually gotten the chance to read yet, so I can't speak to its quality.

Unfortunately I've only gotten into Sasha fairly recently (especially as compared to Jon, who my brain latched onto in a deathgrip from the start), so I haven't gone through her tag yet. A scroll through the Archivist!Sasha or Beholding Avatar!Sasha tags pulls up a lot of fix-it and J//mart, which isn't really what I'm looking for from the concept. I'm sure there's more out there, and if/when I find them I'll come back to this ask probably, but I lucked into Reverse Nighthawks (I was on a Jongerry kick).

But god every day I wish that I could write romance and/or longfic, because about a year ago I read a Jonmichael fic that, when discussing alternate universes (where Jon ended the world) it's revealed that he once did an apocalypse out of love for his Archivist, Sasha James. And it was one (1) single line, but it struck me so hard because god. A perfect concept I think. The potential dynamics of Archivist!Sasha/Assistant!Jon are enthralling to me. Jon destroying the world (or helping her destroy the world? Cute date night I think: bringing about armageddon with your eldritch monster partner) for Sasha... anyway mostly I mentioned that one because My God if I have to live with that tantalizing AU rotating in the background of my mind 24/7 so do the rest of you.

#also I'm very sorry how much this was About Jon #I really /do/ love sasha it's just that jon lives in my brain literally all the time #I am incapable of making a single solitary tma post that is not like 50% about him #not a Single One #every character and relationship and dynamic must somehow include jon to interest me. I struggle to care about jon-less anythings #it's a Problem #anyway I really really love sasha and want to write her one day but I need to finish my JE stuff first #the thing is the sasha in my brain is in zero other places #I extrapolated some stuff from canon to create a Blorbo but I don't think many other people interpret her the same way #I have some sasha and jonsasha stuff lying around somewhere but the gist is that I think sasha should become a morally questionable eyevata #who feeds the eye by invading people's privacy ''accidentally.'' based on her actions in the s1 finale she's probably a good person usually #but is reckless when protecting those she cares about and ESPECIALLY when curious and I want her to be a lil freaky with it #too tired to string my sasha thoughts together properly but they're mostly about how she should have a fun corruption arc #I want her to end the world in s3. I want her to have extremely difficult and complicated feelings about leaving the institute. about being #an eyevatar also. I think she didn't get enough screentime to say a lot for certain but she has enough interesting and complex things in he #brain that she could offer an interesting perspective if she survived or was the archivist. I also think she and martin should've switched #places. sorry martinlikers but she had more stuff going for her and also her perspective would be unique and interesting instead of yet #another 'the Eye is Bad.' that's actually the jonsasha thing I like the most. reading her statement and there's so many parallels between #her and jon. I think they'd compliment each other in a way literally no other jonship could manage #anyway sorting tags #jonsasha #asks #thank you for the ask btw!! I am. VERY. passionate about this subject. sasha has so much potential and stuff going for her but I get so #bitter because nobody is willing to engage with the stuff I find most interesting about her. probably another reason it took me as long as #it did to get Attached to her. I spent too much time with fanon sasha who's had the potential and complexity and points of interest #stripped away so that she can fix the world for jm to get together which is so much more boring than whatever the hell was wrong with her #(affectionate) (I like my characters a lil weird and fucked up. a lot weird and fucked up even) #ok veryvery tired need to stop rambling and think about sasha some more. #oh wait one more thought actually she's autistic and trans (projecting but also. like. tell me i'm wrong) thank you and goodnight

[undermostcorgi]

the media which consumes your entire soul at age 12 will forever be a part of you. this is an unavoidable consequence of living and you have to accept this fact. no matter how old you get, no matter how long it has been since you last saw its smug face peeking out from the bushes as it follows you, no matter if you think you have outrun it for good and that you're finally finally safe and you hardly even remember it exists anymore and your brain knows a few brief moments of true peace, it WILL catch up to you in your moment of weakness. and listen you don't want to hear this but sometimes this is necessary for your mental health. you will on instinct want to reject it and run away again but sometimes. sometimes you just need to watch that old show or listen to that silly song or read that weird book again as an adult and it will hurt you a little bit in various little ways but it will also heal you a little bit. you can call it nostalgia you can call it connecting with your inner child or whatever you want but just listen to me it WILL HAPPEN TO YOU TOO AT SOME POINT AND YOU HAVE TO BE PREPARED FOR THIS (i am forcibly dragged off the stage by security)

#heed my warning boy #it seems i am not well today #recently made the reluctant decision to revisit what was probably my VERY FIRST real hyperfixation #something that i don't necessarily want to mention by name right now because. well #its pretty objectively bad LOL like i dont think i know of ANYONE still posting about it or really proud of having liked it back in the day #i dont think it is as well known to the general public so it wont get me hunted down for sport even if i did name it probably hopefully #but for those who know its. probably not the best thing to be revisiting lmao (even though i think it might still be being made?? wtf) #but i felt i had to because i was about to start my period and was going crazy insane like you do you know how it is #and i randomly remembered a fanfic i loved and then remembered my fav character and how much i loved him #my actual first ever blorbo oh my GOD he was everything to me #so i reluctantly decided to rewatch “just the first few episodes” just to see how much i remembered and also to prove to myself it sucks #but surprise surprise: nostalgia and hormones are making me actually kind of enjoy it #and now i am suffering from fucking Catholic-like Guilt for not hating it which i think is pretty silly lmao #so im kind of posting this in an attempt to convince myself that its like. FINE and cringe is dead and all that #and that sometimes i gotta be nice to my little mentally ill brain and give it the junk food (bad media) it craves #ESPECIALLY when im on my period LMAO #anyway completely unrelated: why the FUCK do i still remember almost every single fucking word to the delicious tomato song SDHJFKSAJF #i hope no one actually reads this far in the tags bc i know that reveal will probably deal psychological damage to some of you LMAO SORRYYY #ok yeah posting this and then immediately going to bed so that the Haters cant reach me LOL SEE YA

[bikananjarrus]

fyi i am going to become the most obnoxious little hater when the ahsoka show comes out

#so sorry in advance #but not really #bc the rebels characters are everything 2 me and whatever the fuck filoni is going to do to them #is going to send me into a hateful rage every single week #i will come up with a tag for all my negative posts #thinking probably ashowka negativity (just bc i don’t want to slander ahsoka herself i have nothing against the character) #but i am VERY against this show #anyway #mik chats

[sarahreadsfic]

I saw your tags and figured I'd send an ask haha

All those names are really nice! I do think in future quests they'd end up using the name you gave him, so that's definitely something to consider. You do get one extra chance to rename him, so maybe try out Zihong for awhile and see what you think?

omg hello!! welcome, please don't mind the mess haha-- *hastily shoving posts and tags aside, attempting to look casual*

so the funny thing is i'm actually nowhere near that part of the quest yet lmao, like i haven’t even met him in-game yet. i'm just trying to get myself used to calling him a different name before i actually have to use it (and for writing purposes).

zihong is definitely in my top 5 names for sure, but the problem i’m having now is that there are just SO many names i’ve researched that would be good for him and i dunno which one he would like best lol.

i’m WAY overthinking this decision and taking it far too seriously, i know - from what i’ve seen, he seems pretty indifferent to whatever we call him either way, aside from his old names or other characters’ names. but still! i want him to feel satisfied with it. if he doesn’t feel so loved and warm inside whenever i call him by his new name i will have failed him >:(

apologies and you definitely did not sign up for this but i’m now using this ask to make a comprehensive list of all my other favorite names and their (supposed) meanings. wish i could just run them all past him for input hgjnfjhdj sORRY FOR THIS IT’S RLLY FOR ME ONLY U DO NOT HAVE TO READ ME WAXING ON ABOUT NAMES FOR WHO KNOWS HOW MANY PARAGRAPHS

First, all the Japanese names:

Matsuri - “Festival”, “enshrined”, “showing gratitude towards the rituals of nature”; has connections with Shinto and Buddhism. I don’t think this is commonly used as a name, necessarily, but the whole “gratitude towards nature” part struck me as a sort of nod to how Nahida helped him. And I like the idea of giving him a name that invokes joy, celebration, and life, because I want him to have those things and find happiness in his new self!

Soma - “A sudden sound of wind”, “true/real/genuine”. It’s simple and nice and what sells this one for me is the “sudden” part. Brings about a sense of movement and change and I really, really like it for that. Don’t know if the meaning is exact, though. It seems like Hayate has a similar meaning, which I also like!

Nataku - The Japanese name for Nezha, a Taoist deity. But also, this is just on the list because I was watching Saiyuki (ridiculous and very loose adaptation of Journey to the West, janky animation and terrible writing, fun to laugh at, highly recommend) with a friend last night and there was a character called Prince Nataku who is described as a “puppet assassin”. Immediate sirens started blaring in my head as my brain honed in on that as a possible name. Apparently Nezha is also known as the Third Lotus Prince, and I love the idea of associating lotus imagery with Wanderer.

Hansei - The cultural concept of “self-reflection”, acknowledging one’s mistakes and pledging improvement. I saw someone name him this and I like how it fits him. My concern is that it seems more like an admonishment and might hold him back from thinking of himself as more than his past wrongs.

Kazuki - "Hope of peace”, “serenity”, “peaceful tree”. I really liked that your name had a connection with Irminsul in the -ki suffix! Apparently -ki also means air, which suits him well, too. In this name, it comes from “hope” and kazu- is for peace. I do like the idea of giving him a name that could embody hope and I do want him to find peace within himself, but I worry he would find this condescending, particularly the idea of “peace” since that word just has so many connotations - he might take it as me wanting him to mellow himself out as if I wouldn’t accept him or am disappointed by him as he is.

Satoru - "Enlightenment” in the Zen Buddhism sense, “to know/understand”. Mostly I think that the way it sounds suits him. The only thing is that it’s a little bit unassuming and normal, I think? Which he might like, actually.

Anything with the prefix Shin-, because I like that it can be read as both “new” and “heart”. But I also feel like 1) it would always end up reminding me of another character because there are SO many that have this name and 2) he might take it as an insult or a mockery, like, “haha, how ironic is it that you don’t have a heart and I’m giving you a name with the word heart in it”. Probably unlikely at this point, but I don’t want his name to cause even the faintest sense of melancholy or sadness in the back of his mind, so I don’t want to chance it.

Other names that I like the sound of are Seijun (pure, innocent, clean/righteous), Kiryoku (inner strength/willpower), and Katsuya (victory). While I do like these, I’m a little apprehensive that naming him any of them would be akin to imposing certain expectations onto him or the type of person I want him to be? Especially Seijun. But I could also see him choosing Kiryoku or Katsuya for himself, so I don’t know! I’m conflicted.

There’s also Ren (lotus or love) and Shou (to soar/fly - add the suffix -yo and it turns into sunlight/sunshine). Simple and sweet, but after all of the long and multisyllabic names he’s taken in the past, I think he might find something like this refreshing. I really like these two aesthetically. I also cannot decide between them for my life.

And then there are names inspired by mythology or religion:

Fujin - Japanese; god of the wind in Japanese mythology who is often depicted alongside the thunder god, which, in Genshin’s case, would be Raiden. I know a lot of people pick this one, but I think it has too strong of a connection with the past he’s trying to leave behind, although I like the way it sounds.

Shu - Egyptian; god of wind/dry air. I like the similarity with Shou, and also that it potentially would be more connected to Sumeru than Inazuma.

Akasa - Sanskrit; the Bodhisattva of void/space in Buddhism. In Japanese, it’d be Kokuzo. I know these were mentioned in my tags, but after some more consideration I don’t think they’re a great fit for him thematically.

Vayu - Sanskrit; in Hinduism, the god of the wind. Literal name meaning is apparently “that which flows”, which I think is pretty. I also think I just like names that start with V. Vaira was another option (Indian; “flowing air”) - I like that it sounds like it could be short for Vairocana, who is the cosmic Buddha that embodies the concept of sunyata, but I couldn’t find a good source for it actually meaning “flowing air” and instead it seems to be more commonly interpreted as “diamond”.

And finally, the Greek mythology names: Icarus, Aeolus, Zephyrus. I’ve seen Icarus suggested by a few people and while I like the way it looks and sounds aesthetically, the literal meaning is also “follower” which I don’t think he would appreciate. Also, I don’t know if I want to name him a tragic reference to his past hubris that caused his downfall. Aeolus (nimble, quick-moving) was the “keeper of the winds”, and though I like how grandiose and regal it sounds, I’m not really into the way it looks? Same with Zephyrus (west wind), it feels a little too soft for him (and if I recall correctly, the west wind was the gentlest one of the four).

So. That’s where I am now. I like so many of these, and I think there are ones that he would like more but I can’t possibly know for sure, and the more I research the more I find other names I like...

ok i’m so sorry for this long writeup JHDGKJGH ZIHONG IS STILL REALLY HIGH UP THERE JUST BECAUSE I CAME UP WITH IT ON MY OWN SO IT FEELS CLOSEST TO ME?? AND I CAN PICTURE MYSELF EXPLAINING THE NAME TO HIM VERY VIVIDLY. AND THEN SITTING THERE TENSELY AWAITING HIS APPROVAL AND THEN HIM GIVING ME A NOD. BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT HE’D ACTUALLY THINK OF IT.

wanderer why can’t you just pick a name for yourself. do u see what ur doing to me. i feel like that one image of the dude from always sunny connecting all the red lines on the board. WHY AM I LIKE THIS.

#this is so embarrassing #i'm just out here rambling at one of my favorite writers on this site about wanderer names help wtf is wrong with me #i'm literally at work right now too doing this instead of my actual job #but like. this is why every OC i create is just a self-insert. you think i wanna do this every time i need to come up with a name #nah just slap my own on there and be done with it #it's also why when i was a kid playing with dolls every single doll had like 3 middle names i just couldn't decide on one #HE'S NOT EVEN MY FAVORITE CHARACTER he's my 2nd favorite rn BUT I FEEL LIKE I NEED TO PROVE MY DEVOTION TO HIM SOMEHOW. I CAN'T AFFORD TO C6 #sarah answers message #kaeyazuha #ky u are so sweet thank u for going out of ur way to respond to my inane tags!! #sorry i am a little starstruck rn ngl i've never interacted with u off anon before #haha (dying) #ILL STOP TALKING OK THANK U AGAIN <3<3 #genshin impact #genshin #wanderer #genshin wanderer #wanderer names #scaramouche #genshin scaramouche

[scorndotexe]

mostly unrelated to my catcher in the rye discussion enjoyment but i don't think you need to relate to a protagonist to be able to really get a book

#or you *shouldn't* need to relate to a protagonist #i *know* it's more nuanced than this but #i don't often find characters relatable! i don't think relatability is the point of books #or any art really #i don't really find characters relatable in the same way others do i think #i mean i've definitely had Moments with certain characters and certain narratives where i've related to them more than i ever have #and there are bits here and there where i related to holden #especially on my last read of catcher (the one where i gave up halfway through ghfjdfhg) #i could even relate to him in an autistic way #and the book was still boring as shit for me! i'm going to try again i think but anyway that's not my point #my point is that the whole thing of ''you need to be a teenage (boy) from the us to really get this'' feels. terrible actually! #obviously relatability in art is a much more nuanced topic but look it's 2:37 am and i'm talking about this in the tags of a tumblr post #i can't go through every single point and argument and talk them through #it's an interesting topic! but i don't have the time to explore it right now #persimmon's rambles

[bratzforchris]

I Think You're Hot

Summary: SFW and NSFW headcanons about Matt being the golden retriever to his bisexual wife's black cat <3

Pairing: Matt x feminine!reader

Warnings: Smut, pouty bottom/bratty sub!Matt, oral (f receiving), p in v, dom fem!reader, mentions of threesomes, nipple play (none of this is overly descriptive because it's headcanons, but you're responsible for what you consume online!)

A/N: Many of these may seem like I am stereotyping bisexual people, especially women. I am bisexual myself and truly mean no harm by this <3 Every bisexual person is different! Don't fetishize us and love us for who we are 🩷💜💙 Special tag for my bff @nicksbestie for plotting with me <3 Enjoy!

SFW

✯Matt who gave his (then girlfriend, now) wife the biggest smile and hug when she came out to him

"You know this doesn't change how I feel about you, right? You're still my girl, and I love you more than anything in the world. Plus, now we get to have celebrity crushes together!!"

"That's the first thing you think of?"

"Margot Robbie as Harley Quinn is hot as fuck."

"...you got me there."

✯ He absolutely adores all of your piercings and tattoos. They make you so you. He loves to leave kisses on each one when you're cuddling

✯ Speaking of tatted/pierced bi baddie, you gotta add the colored hair to that, right? Matt adores going to the beauty supply store with you and picking out new hair colors for you to try

"Purple and pink?"

"There isn't a single color you couldn't pull off, my love."

✯ Matt who goes ALL FUCKING OUT for pride. There's a rainbow flag outside your house, he's putting pink/purple/blue hair chalk in his hair, and he is happily accompanying you and Nick to all the pride parades and festivals

"It's pride month, so I have to do whatever you say."

"Matt...you do that every month, baby. You're whipped."

✯ He absolutely loves playing games with you, even if he has to hear about how hot certain characters are. You even have matching gaming setups <3

✯ Every single one of their subscribers comments on how well dressed Matt is. Where do you think he gets his style tips? His wife 100%. You know how to perfectly balance between masculine and feminine, having your own days where you leaned more towards one or the other

✯ Matt who becomes a coffee shop enthusiast. You're rather addicted to iced coffees, and he's willing to oblige your addiction. The fans go especially crazy over photos of the two of you in cute cafes

✯ "Goddamn, I am so gay."

"Oh 😞"

✯ Matt who helps you cuff your jeans <3

✯ Absolutely jumps to defend you from bigots. He may seem shy and gentle, but the second someone even thinks anything rude about his wife, he is jumping down their throats

✯ Matt who loves the style you pull off. He thinks the way you wear flannels, jeans, and Converse one day and then full beat makeup and heels the next is so beyond sexy

✯ "Matt, look she's so hot."

"She's very hot, but not as hot as you *cheesy grin*."

✯ On days when you're not very feeling confident in your sexuality, Matt makes sure to give you extra love and attention, promising that he thinks you're amazing no matter what <3

NSFW

✯ Matt who's okay with threesomes as long as there's clear boundaries that the other girl isn't joining your relationship full time

✯ Two hot women domming him? He's folding so fast

✯ Matt who's an absolute brat because he loves seeing his dom get all worked up

"You watch my mouth. I can't see it."

"What was that, sweet boy? Fix the attitude."

✯ Showing your third partner how to control him and Matt just smiles sweetly, all thoughts that don't have to do with him being pounded into the mattress disappearing

✯ If it was just you and Matt, he absolutely loves to eat you out to show you how "sorry" he is (he will mouth off again)

"Please...I promise I won't *grunt* do it again."

"Fine. But you better use that mouth for what's it made for and make this worth my while."

✯ Matt whose wife has her nipples pierced and he loves to play with them, gently sucking over the cool metal of the barbells

✯ Matt who loves it when you're on top, riding him until he's begging to cum with tears in his eyes

✯ When you have a third partner, he can't help but to grind his hips into the mattress as he whimpers, watching the two prettiest girls he knows go down on each other

✯ Matt who has a collar with his wife's name on it and blushes when your third partner points it out

"Someone really is whipped, huh?"

*cue blushes, gentle giggles, and enthusiastic nods*

✯ Matt who loves his bi wife and wouldn't trade her for anything 🩷💜💙

tags ♡: @sturnlovr @matthewsturniologirly @pkfferoo @jetaimevous @blahbel668 @sturniolowhore @muwapsturniolo @nicksbestie @sturnlova @gxldenlush @calumsrockstar @pepsiluvr0209

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x y/n #matt sturniolo edit #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo imagines #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader

[arachine]

♡ ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ｡･* . . . their firsts .ᐟ

ᥫ᭡ featuring :: neteyam, lo’ak and kiri sully

ᥫ᭡ includes :: their first kisses & times !!

ᥫ᭡ genre :: mature

ᥫ᭡ general tags :: sexual content (nothing explicit), fluff

ᥫ᭡ content warnings :: characters are aged up, dry humor

ᥫ᭡ note :: depending on the attention this receives, i may or may not make a part two with spider, tsireya, and a’onung >_<

♯ first…kiss with neteyam .ᐟ

+ neteyam’s got that older brother charm. a real gentleman, through and through—which isn’t the least bit surprising because he’s neytiri’s son, after all. and given this, he just…naturally excels at most things, even kissing. when it happens, it’s kind of almost unreal, sort of like a fairytale. he’s just so…good at it, doesn’t rush you, or force his tongue down your throat, or do anything that would even slightly make you uncomfortable. 

no, he’s slow—methodical. takes his time with you because he wants to taste you, and commit it to memory. i’d like to think he even makes you laugh before he goes in, because he’s just like that, you know? like, yeah, he’s got neytiri’s whole face but he’s still his daddy’s son—he’s got the smugness and attitude to prove it. 

♯ first…time with neteyam .ᐟ

+ god, i don’t even know where to begin. every fiber of my being believes that he’d make it the most comfortable, painless experience ever. usually, most people dread their firsts—simply because their partners didn’t: 1) prep them properly, 2) make sure that they finished, or 3) provide aftercare—but neteyam? yeah, he’s going above and beyond, and checking off every single one! you being in pain and miserable was simply never an option.

as previously mentioned, i’d like to think he’d try and calm your nerves by making you laugh. just a few jokes here and there, just to get your mind off of the initial stretch of his fingers working you. 

— “who’s the prettiest girl on pandora?” he teases, leaving zephyr-light kisses all over your face. you think he’s so corny, but giggle anyway, shoving lightly at his chest. 

“stop it!” but he’s relentless, still peppering your face with kisses, still prodding your slit. you’re so distracted by his attempts to calm your nerves, that you don’t even notice his finger is all the way in. not until he pulls it out and praises you for opening up for him.  

— “see, look at you,” a gentle hand rises to caress your cheek, “so pretty.” 

♯ first…kiss with lo'ak .ᐟ

+ the concept of patience is entirely foreign to him. patience and him are like oil and water. they just don’t mix. he’s a here, now, and fast type of guy, always has been. and when the moment arises between you two, he’s the first to initiate it—however, it’s no fairytale moment. it’s toothy, wet, and inexperienced. 

i’d like to think it’s you who has to take the initiative when it comes to kissing. and through this, he begins to get a sense of the things you like: how slow he should go, how much tongue, where he should hold you, and how he should move his lips. eventually, he gains enough confidence to kiss you the way he’s been wanting to kiss you—which is hard, and rough, and passionate—just a lot less toothy and wet. 

♯ first…time with lo'ak .ᐟ

+  it’s all baby steps and hand holding with him in this department too. this is the one instance in which i don’t think he’d charge into. i think after kissing you for the first time, he’d use some of that knowledge to decipher how he’d go about it. at first, he’s like incredibly scared to touch you, just hovering over you like a sheet of paper, scared that if he uses just the slightest amount of strength, you’ll break or something. 

— “does that hurt?” / “can you feel that?” / “maybe if we try it this way…” / “am i in?” 

the sentiment is cute, thoughtful even. because don’t get me wrong, a man that takes the time to ask you how he should touch you, where he should touch you, and how you’re feeling during sex is amazing. bravo to any guy who does it (it’s the bare minimum), but lo’ak does it to the point where you’re questioning if he’s scared of pussy. overall, i think this is something you’ll have to take the initiative for too.

— “lo’ak if you don’t touch me right now, i swear to god i’m going to kill you and then myself.” 

♯ first…kiss with kiri .ᐟ

+ my sweet girl. my bestest girl. i just know it’d be so fucking cute. like actually, the type of kiss where your leg slowly springs up (i.e. the princess diaries). yeah, it’d be that good. girls just do everything better anyway, and it’s kiri, so the expectations were already high (duh). the thing about kiri is, when she kisses, she really commits to the kiss. she doesn’t do half-assed, because kissing is like dessert. 

it’s supposed to be (especially first kisses) sweet, and airy, and dizzying—and it is! the amalgamation of her tender touches, and the little giggles in between, and the teasing ‘run and follow’ your lips do…are all things that add to the experience. a kiss with kiri will literally have you on speed dial with uhaul, trust and believe!

♯ first…time with kiri .ᐟ

+ like neteyam, she’d be so attentive. just making sure you’re comfortable, reassuring you, whispering words of encouragement, and checking in on you mentally. she knows that sex can be exhausting (both physically and mentally), so i’d like to think she’d spend extra time on foreplay and aftercare than she would during the actual act itself—not that she had to spend much time on you anyway, because getting you to finish wasn’t something she considered to be much of a feat. 

also, kiri is a princess, she’s literally the first born daughter. she may often appear to have a tough exterior, but…it’s just a front. dote on her and shower her with the same affections she showered you with, treat her like a little doll and watch her crumble underneath your fingertips from the smallest of praises. 

— “such a sweet girl, staying open for me.” / “could watch you do that all day.” / “nobody touches me the way you do.” 

© arachine 2023

#neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam sully x reader smut #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak sully x reader #lo’ak sully x reader smut #lo’ak x reader smut #kiri x reader #kiri sully x reader #avatar x reader smut #avatar x reader #avatar the way of water smut #avatar the way of water #atwow x reader

[spitdrunken]

i am absolutely insane about your headcanons with the vee's, my mind is so full now... this is exactly what i was hoping to find when searching through the hazbin x reader tag after watching the episodes 👁️🙏🏻 please i'm so!! the being a writer for the vee's imagine is such a good idea, val and his.. comment especially got to me..

also, for your consideration:

Val — or all of the Vee's, really —, but, in the beginning, he's really not convinced about the quality of your dialogues, despite all the lines he's read (or, well, has had Vox read to him), so naturally you have to read your previous stories out loud to him, cheeks flushing and squirming when it gets to particularly graphic scenes and his gaze on you is so very heavy, smoke caressing your jaw while you stumble over your words.. It's worse if you've written about them and a character who resembles you, and Val's smile widens when you skip from story to story, mentioning the character — definitely not you — sucking Vox off, bending over willingly for Val and begging for Velvette to touch her, or even take all three of them at once, greedy...

Also the. love potions Velvette makes have me feeling things.. Her or Vox but they might end up putting a drop or four into your glass — purely accidentally, of course! —, and...

this is terrible.. my mind is too full now... i might have to post writing for hazbin now and it is your fault alone.. (affectionate; truly, I've enjoyed your thoughts so very much!! thank you for sharing!)

I'm glad you enjoyed it so much :D!! I had an absolute blast writing it myself, and I've been thinking about it lots!! Your ask made it even Worse (/pos) and I simply had to write more!! Please please please let me know if you write something for Hazbin, I can tell from your ask already that it'll be wonderful! And if you ever wanna chat about these guys, feel free to message me again, haha.

Notes: power imbalance, sexual harassment, heavily dubious/noncon due to love potion usage.

The fact Vox even bothers at all to take the time to sit Valentino down and read to him is already a show of your quality— He really wouldn’t go through wrangling him like that for just anyone, especially not with Val getting a bit pissy when being reminded your works were being compared to his. He needs to be told that, obviously, Val, some mere written words are never going to compare, especially not in earnings, to his creations. This placates Valentino. But all Vox gets for his efforts are a lazy flick of one of Valentino’s four wrists, his eyes not even looking at him. “Look, I still think it fucking sucks. But if you wanna hire them so badly, whatever. I’ve got better shit to do than listen to daddy’s horny story-time.” Suffice it to say, he becomes a lot more… Amiable (poor you) once you’re actually working there, and he has a face to attach to the stories. He can tell upon first glance that you’re one of those pathetic little hermits, too scared to leave your own shitty apartment, barely scraping by— He’s recruited plenty of those types as whores, after all. So easily pushed around that it shouldn’t give him nearly as much satisfaction as it does.

When Valentino practically demands you join him in his room and read your previous work to him, you sputter out protests, heart skipping a beat. Every employee in the company has something bad to say about this man, and so he’s about the last person you want to be caught alone in a room with. Especially not his bedroom.

“Ah, sir, I’m not really sure—“ But he’s already wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his side as he drags you through the halls. The first thing that strikes you is how different the texture of coat is than you were expecting. It doesn’t even feel like anything at all. “Oh, sweetheart, call me Valentino. No need to be so unfamiliar with each other.” He practically purrs, a single finger tracing up the contours of your chest. “I feel like we’re going to get quite familiar.” If all the alarms weren’t ringing in your head before, they most definitely are now. But there’s nothing you can do. His grip on you is tight and, underneath his red coat, you can feel the hard metal of a pistol pressing against you.

He takes you to his room, walls covered with posters featuring himself, and you hardly have the time to look around before he sits you down on one of his red couches, still caught underneath one of his arms. It’s hard to think, much less speak, as Valentino starts to prod you to pull out your phone and start reading. “No need to be shy. You’re such an artista, aren’t you? Don’t keep me waiting.” It’s easy, at first. When the scene hasn’t grown explicit yet, and you can pretend you’re only reading the text out loud to yourself like you always do, making sure the sentences sound right. But Valentino makes it hard for you to distract yourself entirely. He rubs circles on the skin of your thigh, and the smoke from his pipe has long since been the only thing you can smell. The red smoke makes your head a little hazier, tongue a little looser— Though that all just might be because you’re not getting enough oxygen. Your every muscle is tense and, you think, this is what being a prey animal must feel like. The first time you stutter out the word ‘cock’, Valentino barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, entirely contrasting with the sultry demeanour he’s been putting on the whole time. You jump, gaze flickering from the screen to his face, before continuing. It gets worse when you realise exactly what story you’re reading out loud to him, one of the ones you’d never even posted anywhere, so utterly self-indulgent and poorly thought out that you regret it with every ounce of your being. (Unbeknownst to you, Vox has already read every draft you’ve ever typed up, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“Sorry, can I maybe, um, read a different one?” You practically squeak out. “I realised I have some better drafts, and…” “No,” Valentino shuts you down, tone temporarily harsh. “Don’t get too fucking cocky now, you’re already taking up enough time as it is. Shit’s about to get interesting, finally.” He’s saying all of this as if he wasn’t the one to drag you there in the first place.

So you trudge onward, reading as fast as you possible can, just trying to tough it out. As you read about a scared, unaccomplished demonic main character catching the eye of a trio of some of the most famous demons in town—through entirely unrealistic circumstances—you can see his grin grow wider from the corner of your eye. His nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, the smoke surrounding your face turning to caress your cheeks.

“So, let me gets this straight… You wrote about a trio of powerful demons with matching names, taking turns fucking an absolute nobody silly. One of them’s a pimp, the other a fashion designer, and the other a business man.” Valentino doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Greedy little slut. You even chose this one specifically to read out to me, huh? Seems I got you all wrong,” he hisses out. “This must be a dream come true for you, isn’t it?”

Let’s just say that you got enough ‘material’ to write another four or so stories, just from that line alone.

----- A drop of love potion, and models always behave the absolute best, or so Velvette thinks! (As long as you don’t put in too much. It’s very hard to take good pictures when the girls keep trying to kiss you.) No bitching, no whining, only an easy to pose, cute demon to work with. And if she dresses you up in clothes that reveal more than they obscure, purely for her own enjoyment and usage, who’s going to blame her?

Certainly not you. You won’t remember a single damn thing. Not even the parts where you babble on about how pretty and gorgeous and cool she is, and how you’ve admired her for so long— All things she’s heard a million times before. Normally, she wouldn’t care less about it, but such words coming from someone with only a drop of her potion in her system means they’re all the absolute truth. She thinks it’s almost cute when it’s coming from you, really. ------------ Vox, on the other hand, would be more likely to use his hypnosis on you than a love potion. Just to have a few minutes in the middle of a meeting where you’re practically putty in his hands, all of your usual anxiety and shame having slid right off of your shoulders. He doesn’t feel any guilt about it whatsoever. Having read all of your works, he finds it safe to say that this is the exact kind of scenario you would enjoy…

And even if you didn’t, he still would. He gets a bit of a thrill out of the loopy, relaxed smile on your face as you nuzzles your cheeks against his arm, professing all of the thoughts you had about him before working at VoxTech, and the ones you still have today. It’s during one of these exact moments, that he’d likely find out that Valentino had fucked you already, something he hadn’t found necessary to mention. They’ll have a bit of a discussion about that later!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #vox x reader #velvette x reader #cw.drugging #cw.noncon #cw.dubcon

[nocturnesmoon]

Safety Nets

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x GN!Reader Wordcount: 6k Tags: Polyamory, established relationship, Hurt/comfort, a LOT of comfort, the guys take care of you, that's the fic CW/TW: Military inaccuracies? canon typical violence, insecurities, heavy self doubt and self blame, minor character death, A/N: This is probably inaccurate mission and military wise but idc i wanted to write something like this for so long- though i am open to constructive criticism if you got some notes. (Read on Ao3)

-You come back from a mission that shook you to your core, the boys help you back on your feet as they always do-

The wind raged like a storm in your ears, despite the heavy earmuffs which sat too tight on your head, you could hear it clearly. When you closed your eyes, you could imagine it being a hurricane, a wind so strong it would scoop you up and carry you to who knows where. One that would tear you apart and leave no remnants of who you were.

The thought seemed nice, to be taken away and to never return. To be freed from not having to face your own failures in the disappointed stares, that awaited down on the rapidly approaching platform. Your body rocked with every little swerve of the helicopter, no longer having the strength to go against the motion.

"Lieutenant?" Your head snapped up to the soldier in front of you. You ignored the crack in your neck and the ache that pooled into your muscles. He'd been calling on you a few times now, his concerned eyes searching your face for an answer. "We're about to land sir," the soldier let you know, you couldn't muster up a verbal response, only a nod to acknowledge you'd heard.

Ever since they had picked you up on the site, they had that look of pity. It made you squirm, feeling all too self-aware of the way your clothes were caked in mud and blood. Your bones hurt, and your joints felt like snapping in half. You had spent the majority of the mission running, believing that you wouldn't make it out. You had fled, and you had left them behind.

The size of the heli was too big for just you, the soldier, and the pilot in the front. The space felt like caging you in, reminding you of your failure, of who you had lost. Your eyes threatened to shut, the exhaustion whispering in your ear that it would all feel a little better if you let yourself drift away into sleep.

Except every time your eyes slipped closed it wasn't darkness you saw, it was their screams, their blood, and their gore. The cracks you heard when one of the bullets pierced someone's skull echoed in your ears, as if you were still down there on the battlefield.

You were pulled back into your own head, your mind running laps to go through the mission once more. Every single second accounted for so you could dissect your failure. How each one of them had fallen, one by one they dropped like they were nothing. How you had ran with what was left of your team, until one got caught in a bear trap and pulled under falling debris, and the other was shot in the stomach.

You had hoped your head would fill with fog, that it would help you forget and suppress the last few moments of that soldier’s life. His name had been Jacob, his callsign Wisp, he had been difficult to deal with but his progress under your guidance had been noticeable. You hated how it was only now you could remember every little thing about him. Before you didn't care, you did your job in training him, guiding him, but you never made an effort to know him. You wished your brain would stop remembering every little thing now, making you feel all the more guilty.

You wished your brain would do that thing it's supposed to do, block out the traumatic memories so you didn't have to deal with them. Yet they were there still so fresh in your mind, like an open wound, his last words repeated over and over in your mind. You'd think someone's last words would be scared, or sentimental or a sweet last wish. Not his, no he decided his last wish was to let you know just how much you had failed them all.

Over and over again you replayed that memory, how his blood had mixed with the dirt and gravel under you both. You remember how his hand had clutched onto your arm, digging his nails through your sleeve and into your skin. He had pulled you down with him in his final moments, uttered those words into your ear with so much disdain the tone would have rocked your core on its own.

"This is your fault, you led us here."

There was more to his words, you were sure there was but maybe your brain was doing part of its job now. You could only cling to every part of the memory you could before it slipped away into the fog. It was only when someone gently nudged you that you snapped out of your own mind once more. "Sir?" your body went rigid at the touch and the voice, and you fought the distinct urge to disarm the person that was in front of you.

It was the same soldier that had been with you ever since they found you. He had been careful around you ever since he saw the casualties, walking on eggshells around you as if you were a loose cannon, maybe you were. "Sir?" he repeated, being a little more patient now that he had your attention, "We're here."

You felt your stomach drop, nodding slowly and glancing towards the opening doors, the platform outside. You could already glimpse at the two people that were waiting for you, they had probably been on edge for days. It only made you more guilty how you must have worried them, ever since your call for immediate evac. You weren't even sure you could reassure them once you got down there, you weren't sure you wouldn't just collapse to your knees the moment you were within their vicinity.

"Do you need help Lieutenant?" the soldier in front of you hadn't moved, it surprised you slightly, having been sure he would be just as eager to get off and way from your stench of death. For a moment you want to say yes, tell them to get someone to carry you, because your knees would give out the moment you went to stand, but how would that look for you. A new promising Lieutenant, the first op you led after you got your new rank and it turned out like this.

You didn't dare look up at the soldier, too afraid that your own eyes would give you away. You considered for a moment, to tell the soldier to go get the only two people who would know what to do. The only two people you would trust enough to become vulnerable with. "No..." your voice barely comes through, but he seems to register it, his legs moving quickly to get down on the platform. It was time to face them.

It had been a long few days ever since you said goodbye to the two of them. 72 hours since you had left on the plane with the promise of being back sometime the next day. 24 since Johnny had started complaining about your absence. 6 since Simon had been alerted of the fact you had called for immediate evac, that the supposedly simple mission had gone wrong in every way possible.

He hadn't relayed all the grueling details to Johnny, just that the op had gone wrong and that you might come back a little rattled. Simon wasn't entirely sure what had gone wrong either, he just knew there was casualties, and the team wasn't coming back in one piece. The scot next to him was restless, practically jumping in place from anxiety, watching intently as the heli descended and the doors opened.

Simon kept one step in front of him, knowing the man all too well, and even though his eagerness is shared within Simon's own veins, he knows that you might not be in a state that could positively receive that. He knew the both of you inside and out, the years he had spent with both you and  Johnny allowed him to know you in ways he didn't think possible.

He was quick to find out exactly what made you both tick, what set you off, what made you happy and what would comfort you. He didn't like the uncertainty; it was a rocky start when he was still mapping out your emotions. By now you all knew each other well, like three puzzle pieces that fit together, you had found each other and filled out the holes in each other’s lives. Certainty was assured when he was with either of you because you both knew he needed it.

This was new, this was an uncertainty he didn't like. He had no idea what you would be like when you came down to the platform, down into their arms once again. Not to mention the fact you and nobody else had come out yet only churned that unsettling anxiety in his stomach further.

"L.T?" the sound of Johnny's accent filled his ears, his shoulders managing to relax just a little. He wasn't alone in this, he reminded himself, Johnny would be here to figure out how to help you as well. Johnny's pinky curled around Simon's, his urge to pull them both away from the public area would have overpowered if it wasn't for the fact, they were waiting for you.

The pilot had gotten out almost as soon as they landed, but you were still nowhere. He could just peak inside, trying to look for you or anyone else he would recognize. He only caught a glimpse of your form, hidden behind another soldier who was speaking to you. "What's taking 'em so long," Simon mumbled quietly, his mask obscuring his already quiet speech.

Johnny let out a heavy sigh, the hold his pinky finger had was surprisingly strong. They shared the anxiousness, the uncomfortable knowledge that you weren't okay. "Ah dinnae ken" he answered, trying to angle himself so he could get a better look at you. Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot he could see at the distance.

They waited, as patiently as they could, the inconspicuous grip they had on each other also served to hold themselves back. Their resolve was wearing thin, and they both knew it, that soldier was talking to you about something, something they didn't know about, and they didn't like it. Simon almost completely lost it when he saw the soldier emerge without you, but his attention was quickly turned when you appeared not long after.

Your walk was slow, in no hurry to get back to them, it should've been the first sign. You looked around as if you were confused, as if you hadn't walked down this path a hundred times before. Johnny wasted no time bolting forward, closing in on you with the clear goal that you were his target. It startled you and Simon almost wanted to berate Johnny in that moment for being so quick with his movements.

Though what Simon saw almost made him want to have a little more time to prepare. The look in your eye rattled something foreign in his bones. It was something familiar, something he had seen in himself once upon a time. Something terrifying he'd never have wished upon you, how it felt when his bare soul had been chipped away at. He looked behind you, expecting some other members of your team to perhaps clue them in on the horror that had occurred.

The hit felt even harder when he realized, you were the only one.

By the time they had gotten you inside and settled in the tub you were a little more present. Your awareness a little higher from when they were on the platform. You had barely spoken a word to them, so vary of threats on every corner that you didn't even let your guard down for them as you usually did.

Only when they had managed to drag you inside, convinced you that your report could wait for later, and gotten you safely inside the space of your own quarters, did you settle. Johnny had carefully helped you out of your clothes, taking the task of cleaning you up and settling you into the safe atmosphere that was them.

He had whispered soft praise in your ears as he removed layer after layer, meanwhile suppressing the want to berate you for each little wound he found on your body. He knew you didn't need the extra scolding, the pure shock from the mission would be enough for you. However, he still felt that sting of hurt in his heart, knowing that neither he nor Simon was there to look after you, to take care of you.

He was well aware that you were capable on your own, you wouldn't have made it this far if you weren't good at what you did. If your rank wasn't enough to go from, then your other various accomplishments on your resume was. But when he saw you like this, with the silent knowledge that you could've been wiped out along with the rest, it put a dark cloud over his mind.

He helped you slowly lower yourself into the bath Simon had previously prepared. You winced in pain when the warm water touched your wounds. None of them were severe enough to cause major worry, but that didn't mean they didn't hurt just as much. Your movements were sloggy, relying on Johnny to not lose yourself completely.

"There ye are," Johnny mumbled quietly, forcing a soft smile on his lips in hopes you soothing you. You let out a shuddering sigh, doing your best to relax into the warm water. You pulled your legs close to your chest, resting your tin atop your bruised knees. "Oh leannan," he gently presses his lips to your temple, cradling your head in an attempt for comfort.

It feels like you're not fully present, watching the world from a third person view that doesn’t exist. You have half of your comfort with you, his hands grabbing the washcloth and slowly moving it over your skin. You look around the small bathroom, trying to locate the other half of your comfort, the missing equation.

"Si..." You're taken aback on your own voice, the croak and soreness of it all leaving you wondering whether you had yelled or screamed more than you thought. You tried to think back on it, settling your mind into the mission again but it made a headache form.

Johnny's motion came to a slow stop, his eyes catching your pleading ones. He knew what you wanted, but he wasn't the one that could give it to you. "He's comin' soon," he does his best at keeping your calm, "S'ok jus' relax." His free hand finds your cheek, making you focus your vision on him.

You lean into it, your body trembling slightly beneath his touch. It was warm and safe, two things you hadn't felt ever since you left. He moved the washcloth over your face, rubbing at the dirt that had infested itself on your skin. His eyes never left your face, his attention and devotion completely yours. His eyes fell on your trembling lips, before quickly flickering upwards to see the tears prickling at the corner of your eyes.

"S'ok love, yer okay" He lets the washcloth rest on the edge of the tub so he could take your face in both hands. His forehead leans against yours, bringing you close and gently coaxing you into more contact. "Just breathe with me aye, he'll be back in no time" your eyes fluttered closed, listening to his instructions, glad that you were able to let go of the part of your brain that needed to make decisions.

Fortunately, he was right, as he often is.

Heavy footsteps could be heard and then the creak of the door, it made you snap your eyes open, their searching beginning once more. They landed on the tall brute, Simon's eyes fixated on you since the moment he made his way into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and made his way towards the tub, planting himself on the toilet seat right next to it.

He was still wearing his mask, tired eyes searching your body and gliding over the wounds in your traumatized state. He lets out a deep sigh, reaching his hand up to his mask and slowly sliding it off. You had seen his face so many times, by now it shouldn't affect you anymore, yet still you can't help that feeling you get when you see him shed the mask in front of you and Johnny. The trust he has in the two of you makes your heart flutter.

The look he's giving you almost makes you feel ashamed, even though you know that he's just concerned. He's always been, that's why he's so harsh on you, on Johnny, even on occasion Garrick. You're pretty sure the only reason he isn't like that on Price as well is because of his higher rank and better experience. He's trained you hard so you could overcome anything, but no amount of training could prepare you for this kind of thing.

Johnny leans back, allowing Simon more space to move closer. You move before he does, leaning your body slightly to the side. The sound of splashing water went deaf on your ears, even as Johnny yelped from some of the water going overboard. Your chin ended up nestled atop Simon's thigh, his eyes never leaving you as you moved. His hand coming down to rest on the back of your head.

"How we doin' pet?" his voice of gravel is like a blanket for your soul, the years of smoking giving him a voice that makes you shiver. In truth you don't feel like speaking, you don't feel like answering at all. You know you have to; you can't hide forever but you still hope they won't inquire about the mission just yet.

You let out a huff, almost hoping that the answer would suffice for Simon, but he keeps looking at you with those expectant eyes. "I don't know," you whisper quietly, letting your eyes fall, your body going slack against the side of the tub.

Simon nods in response, a hum of understanding going out to you. "S'fine, you don't have to know right now," he tells you, giving you the peace of mind to just have a non-conditional existence between them.

Johnny picks up the washcloth again, guiding your arms in his direction so he could continue his work of getting you clean. They're both quick and efficient with cleaning you up, Simon's rough voice filling the room as he updates you on things that's happened since you were gone. It's not much, mostly trivial things you don't care about and will likely forget, but it keeps your calm, giving you something else to focus on.

"Ye should've seen Cap he was livid," Johnny's laughs and you muster a smile, hearing about his latest misadventures, and the dumb thing's he'd rode Gaz into. His hands run over your scalp, working in the shampoo and grimacing when he takes out a small clump of dirt. "Aye darling, how the hell did ye get so caked in mud anyway," he sighs, parting your strands to get to the nape of your neck.

You bend your head down to allow him to work through your hair without straining his arms. "I..." you do your best to think back, but the number of times you fell down and scraped against things were a blur. "I think i tripped a lot...it was a muddy area," You held back a pleasured groan, as Johnny worked his fingers over your scalp, small goosebumps going down your back and arms.

"I don't really remember," you admit and let out an exasperated sigh. Johnny finishes up your hair, going for a little longer than necessary in hopes of keeping your enjoyment going awhile longer. When he pulls back to reach for the shower head, he boops your nose, leaving some soap on your face. His mischievous grin is infectious, and it manages to tug the corners of your lips upwards. The way his eyes light up when he sees your half smile makes your heart hurt, you've worried them so much, you're still worrying them.

As soon as they got you out of the water you were clinging to them like a leech. Refusing to let go of the precious contact you've already established with them. They move you around between them, molding you to them as they do the teamwork of getting you dry. Simon peppers soft kisses to your lips and cheeks while Johnny moves the towel over your back.

Even after they're done getting you as dry as they can, they keep you there. Sandwiched between them they hold you tight, and in tune each other. Johnny's head nestled in the crook of your neck and Simon's chin resting on top of your head. It's a stance that squeezes you tight, your own head getting light from the amount of love they try to squeeze into your bones.

It makes your heart burn, and your eyes sting with tears. Your breathing coming out in small gasps, as you end up choking back on a sob. Every single little thing coming crashing down on you now that you know you're safe in their arms. They've always got you, ready to catch you in case you fall. That hasn't changed, and being so subtly reminded by them brings it all out.

"Breathe," you aren't sure who says it, the disorienting feeling not alleviating even as they accommodate you. "Good Good," you recognize Simon's praising voice when you manage to take a few deep breaths. The tears never manage to fall but you don't doubt that they both know just by looking at your pathetic state.

"Love, we need to treat your wounds," he starts off quietly, not having any haste to move you, "Johnny'll go get you some food, and then we can get you settled into bed, okay?" He's making it sound more like a question, but you know it's just to make you aware of their next movements.

Even so you can't help but cling to Johnny's presence as he starts to unattach himself from the cuddle. You look up at him with pleading eyes, hoping he would stay if you just used puppy eyes enough. You almost think he'll budge as he moves closer to you again, his lips descending onto yours for a chaste kiss. Reluctantly he pulls away again, "Be back soon, ah promise ye."

Before you can protest and force him to stay, Simon scoops you up and places you on the bathroom counter. Distracting you from Johnny's quest of finding food that will be easily digested. He holds your face in his hand to keep your eyes on him, while the other one rummage through a cabinet.

You had gotten extremely lucky all things considered, the worst of your injuries the long scrapes on your back from sliding down a hill with sharp rocks. The rest included rough bruises, sore joints, and jumbled mind. Your other teammates had been much less fortunate, led right into their death by your own incompetence.

You're softly called back to reality, Simon gently rubbing his thumb over your cheek and calling your name. You don't know how long you were zoned out, but it was long enough to give him that worried glint in his eye. "Sorry..." you croak, swallowing thickly to hold it all back but this time it's not as easy.

The tears come slow and quiet, the shake in your body forcing them out of your waterline and down your cheekbones. He gently wipes them away, pulling you in closer to his body again and cradling you against his chest. "You survived," he reminds you, "You're still here."

You want to nod along with him and take in his words to keep close. But you don't know if you agree with him, you survived but should you have? Why did you survive and not Jacob, not any of the other soldiers who trusted you to see it through.

Simon placed a soft kiss to the top of your head and then leaned over you to get a look at your back. He gave no reaction to whatever he saw as to not make you panic, though from the bleeding warmth in your back told you it probably wasn't looking the best.

"Lean back for me pet," he instructs you, slowly plucking you from his chest. With a reluctant sigh you lean back and look down at yourself. Your eyes trailing over every little bruise that littered your body. Simon was silent as he took care of you, giving you gentle squeezes over small kisses after every little wince you made.

When he was done treating the visible wounds, you could hear Johnny rustling around outside the bathroom. The only thing left was your back, the one you dreaded the most out of all your wounds. Simon leaned back just as Johnny came back into the room, a set of your clothes hanging over his arm. He places it on the counter and picks through it, handing you a fresh set of underwear, sweats, and t-shirt.

"Wait with the shirt, need to check over your back," Simon reaches over for the underwear and sweats, helping you into it and lowering you back to the floor. You stretch out your limbs, groaning as you feel the exhaustion in your body, your joints popping when you stretch your arms above your head.

Johnny takes your hand in his own, smiling at you and leading you into the bedroom. "Ah found ye some soup, there wasn't a lot to choose from at this hour," he told you as you crawl onto the bed. You glance at the nightstand, the soup bowl steaming and looking good enough to make your mouth water. The little chocolate bar next to it makes you smile, just until Simon guides you to lay on your stomach.

The real pain is about to start, you think. His hands smoothe over your back, avoiding the ridges of your wounds and grabbing the salve. "It'll be quick, am sure" Johnny lowers himself onto the bed next to you, mimicking your way of laying. His head right next to yours, his loving eyes staring into your own and the giddy smile he wore made you huff out the air in your lungs.

"Hi"

"Hi"

His hand reaches out and caresses your cheek, gently running his fingers over your scalp. He does his best at distracting you from the pain in your back. "How ye feelin'?" he asks quietly, his thumb running over your cheek and fixating on your lip.

"Like shit," you scoff and turn your face into the mattress. You feel Simon's hand run over your back, the aching pain making you whine into the sheets. His hands hesitate, smoothing over unscarred skin as an apology before going back to his work.

The work on your wounds is tedious, and when he finally pulls away your eyelashes are wet. The clutch you have on the sheets beneath you is starting to hurt your knuckles. Simon's touch leaves you, but you don't take any action to turn or move. Someone else guides you to move, the difference in touch leading you to believe it's Johnny.

He moves you closer to him, slowly turning you up so you're sitting and leaning against him. He gently helps you into a t-shirt before moving you around like a ragdoll once more. You're settled between his legs, your back to his front and his big forearms wrapped around your waist. He buries his head in your neck, squeezing you and inhaling your scent as if it's the only thing he ever needs.

"C'mon, you need'ta eat," the bed dips as Simon gets back on it, this time having the bowl of soup in hand. He settles in front of you both, reaching forward and gently rubbing your calf. "And we need to talk," he knows you don't want to, that you'd rather bury it deep. Unfortunately for you, he also knows where that will lead you, and the sooner you put it into words for them the easier you'll be able to process it.

You take the bowl from him, agreeing to at least eat something. You couldn't remember when you last had gotten something nutritional, your stomach felt like a gaping hole that was trying to eat itself. You brought the spoon to your lips and savored the taste. Despite the limited options Johnny had still managed to get the things you liked.

"Don't wanna talk," you mumble between your bites, trying to ignore the look Simon is giving you by staring into your swirling soup. "There's nothin' to talk about," You swallow thickly, ever since you had been back you had been fighting the thoughts that urged to trap you. They were just waiting for you to trip in your careful state, they would pull you under the bridge, drown you into the water until you couldn't breathe through your panic.

Simon didn't let go of your leg, rubbing slow soothing circles into your calf. His full attention was on you, and there was nowhere to hide from the man in front of you and the man behind you. Johnny placed a soft kiss to your neck, and mumbled into your skin, "We know ye don' wanna, Leannan, but when ye came back ye were like a Ghost."

When you didn't answer they elected to let you eat in silence for a while longer, unaware to the emotional storm inside your body. You knew that you would have to make that report eventually, that they would hear about the details eventually. But actually, being met with the demand was something else entirely.

You didn't know if you could bear their reactions, the thought of them being disappointed in you made the anxiety roar. You didn't want them to realize that all the time they had spent being proud of you for your achievement had been wasted. That you were nothing of what you promised to be.

You only realized how shaky your hands had become again when you raised the spoon to take another bite. Simon let out a soft sigh, before taking the spoon and bowl from you so you didn't spill on yourself or Johnny. "Darling?" the question was laid bare for you, he gave you the opening to start talking, to confide in them like you always did.

Your hands fall to your lap, right along with your sight. You try to calm your own nerves, trying to rationalize the stirring thoughts in your head. After an elaborate breath, that is more like an exhausted sigh, you find your words. "It was supposed to be a simple op, and it was in the start, find the target and neutralize him," you start quietly, grasping your own hands together.

"But once we were there and set up, nothing went as planned," you lightly shake your head along to your words, "They knew we were coming and hunted us like dogs." You swallow thickly, noting how the shakiness had nestled into your voice. "I tried to reroute our objective; we tried getting out of there, but this was unlike anything I had ever been up against."

Johnny's hand came to encapsulate your own, stilling your shakiness and you freeze up. Feeling all to self-aware all of a sudden, how the attention was on you, as they listened like you were the most important thing in the world. It was both a warm and agonizing feeling, their protectiveness was nice, but it was also scary.

"We were so close to getting out but...they were faster and I...I couldn't..." you choked back on your own voice, feeling the hotness burn on the back of your eyes. "They were better..." you admitted in a whisper, "If I had taken a different route maybe we could have avoided the trap, maybe we could have gotten the drop on them before they got to my team but...."

The feeling of Simon's hand cupping your cheek made you halt, teary eyes meeting his in temporary shock. "It wasn't your fault love," the sincerity in his voice rocks something deep in you, "There was no way anyone could've known." You tilt your head to the side slightly, you wanted to argue, to tell him you could've done a thousand things better.

"Aye, ye acted just how ye were supposed to, ye kept a level head and guided the rest to the best of yer ability," Johnny briefly took over. His voice was hot on your ear, his quiet whispers just as reassuring as the hand on your cheek, "Ye did everything ye could, and ye survived because of it."

"But they didn't..." You sank further into Johnny, sniffling as you held his thumb inside the little cocoon, he made of both of your hands. "They died because of me," you try to argue, despite being grateful that they didn't seem mad you almost wanted them to lash out, to give you right, to let you feel like a monster.

"They didn't die because of you, they died in action, trying to complete the mission they were given," Simon's voice turned a tad harsh, the determination to get through to you all the more prominent. "They knew this was a possibility when they signed up, you did everything you could for them, and the way you make it up to them is to keep going," he told you sternly.

"I know what it's like, to have people fall under your command," he sighs, "S'never not tough, and it's all too easy to fall into the spiral of whose fault it was." You paid close attention to him as he spoke, he always had a captivating way of speaking, just like when he dished out orders, he commanded authority in his mere presence. "It's somethin’ that happens love, it's important to mourn and assess," he looks you directly in the eye, "But it's also important that you know, it makes you neither monster nor failure."

You never knew whether to love or hate the way he could read your brain like had he telepathy, or personal access to your every little fear and sorrow. "It doesn’t make it feel any better," you said quietly, tilting your head into his palm, nuzzling against his skin.

"I know" he puts the half-finished bowl on the nightstand, "Gonna hurt for a while, but we'll be here with you through it." He gave you a half smile, moving closer so he could place a kiss to your forehead. "We're not going anywhere, ain't that right Johnny?" he glances to the man behind you.

"Aye," Johnny's chest rumbles with a hum, his lips placing a trail of loving kisses over your neck. "Not gonna let those nasty thoughts get to ye," he whispers and slowly moves you as Simon directs. Johnny gets you on your side in the bed, your back pressed even further into his chest. Simon gets out of the bed but only for a brief moment. The lights turn off above you, and soon after the bed dips.

You sigh when you feel Simon's skin on your own, his lips find your cheek as he settles in with you and Johnny. His arm supporting both you and Johnny's heads, his other hand coming over you to hold onto the man behind you after moving your hair out of your face. Compressed between them like this always felt like heaven, the pressure they put on your body was grounding and reminded you that you weren't alone.

"Sleep now," Simon's voice rumbled, "We'll be here when you wake up, and we can try again."

They were always here for you, even when you didn't know you needed the extra support. They had worked with you for so long, you had changed a lot with them and for the better. You felt safe with them, no matter how many times you would fall, they would always be there to catch you and get you back on your feet.

Reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated<3

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[olderthannetfic]

I thought it would be interesting to see if I could easily determine which ships had the most works updated in 2023.

It turned out to be fairly easy, though a little time consuming. I think these results should be reasonably accurate.

Some points to note:

I did this on my own account, and I have like 2 people muted. So I am capturing the effects of archive-locked works, but my numbers might be off by one or two works due to muting.

Works updated in 2023 is a number that constantly changes as works are deleted or updated again in 2024.

I didn't scrape the entire archive or anything like that, so it's possible I missed a ship that would bump one of these down below 100. I'd take the last few at the bottom there with a grain of salt. But I think we can be reasonably sure the top ones are accurate and that the kinds of numbers that we see at the bottom there (eighteen hundred plus works updated in 2023) are about where the cutoff will be even if we find a ship I missed.

--

As for how I did this, I went to the category tags and the rating tags, filtered for updating in 2023, then excluded ships in the sidebar till I got to 130-150 ships excluded. I also grabbed ships that are big in general from tag search, which you can use to find all relationship canonicals, ordered by frequency.

I combined those lists of ships, cleaned off the works numbers, and generated a list without duplicates. That got me three hundred and something (yes, they were mostly duplicates). I generated the relevant AO3 URLs, opened them in batches with Open Multiple URLs, and copied the works totals into a spreadsheet. Not as tidy as using a script but honestly pretty easy if you know a few spreadsheet formulas to clean up data.

The key here is that if you're only going for pretty good and not accurate beyond a shadow of a doubt, all you need to do is generate a list of likely ships, then check them.

It's possible that there's some much-updated ship that is so evenly spread across these various other tags that it just missed showing up in the sidebar. Hopefully, grabbing more than just the top 100 avoided this problem.

This method also doesn't take into account backdated works. If a whole archive was imported in 2023 but all backdated, there could be some ship that didn't have new works but where AO3 users experience in 2023 was of an influx of content.

I also did this just now, in late March/early April, so some 2023 works have inevitably been deleted or updated again. So the exact work counts don't represent the experience of using AO3 throughout 2023. A fandom active in early 2023 might not have much updating in early 2024, while a fandom active in late 2023 would. This could demote the latter a few places in the rankings since I didn't grab numbers on January 1st.

Even if a person scraped AO3 every day or was monkeying around in the databases, you also have to ask what conceptual answer you're after. Is it works a user could have read at some point during 2023, whether they were deleted by the year's end or not? Is it new-to-AO3 works or only newly-created ones, not including imported archives? Does it matter if the works are fic? If they're in English? What about accidental double-uploads or translations of a single work?

I hope this makes it clear why a definitive ranking is not actually possible.

However, despite these drawbacks, I am confident that the rankings above accurately represent the broad trends on AO3 in 2023. Just don't get too fixated on whether a ship should be at number 73 or number 74.

And, of course, I excluded these from the top 100:

Original Character(s)/Original Character(s) - 20,026

Minor or Background Relationship(s) - 16,187

No Romantic Relationship(s) - 8,052

Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s) - 7,195

Original Male Character/Original Male Character - 6,283

Other Relationship Tags to Be Added - 5,618

Original Female Character(s)/Original Female Character(s) - 3,990

Original Character(s) & Original Character(s) - 3,210

Here's a spreadsheet if you want to see the actual numbers not as a shitty screencap. I left the next few below 100 for context.

[ncteez]

Menace (m.yg)

When you learn of a hostage within the confines of the abandoned apartment building downtown, you weren’t expecting it to be Min Yoongi, the most wanted man in the country by gangs and policemen alike.  or the one where yoongi wasn’t prepared to be stuck in a situation with his own enemy, nor was he prepared to be kept alive by and ultimately infatuated with one that calls herself Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend. 

ao3 | m.lists | leave feedback and reblog to give gangster yoongi a boner. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 11k

PAIRING― gangster!yoongi x afab reader

CONTENT― yoongi is mad that he has to be submissive sexually, smut, grotesque descriptions of blood and gore, food mentions, you’re still really soft despite being surrounded by killers. FYI: the use of the word brother in this fic is not indicating that the characters are blood related.

SIDE CHARACTERS― namjoon as the leader of a gang and also your boyfriend, jungkook as a fellow gang member on your end. 

WARNINGS― namjoon is fucking awful, yoongi is a lil mean but still a big softie, intense descriptions of starvation, torture methods, and broken fingers, mentions of suicide, mentions of r*pe (in passing), mentions of killing methods like drowning, stabbing, shooting, catching on fire. fr, this fic is very unsavory but they still fuck so, take that as you will. 

NOTE― listen. this started as a different idea and ended as this so, fr,  don’t even read it. if you do, just be aware that I am not responsible for the content you consume, i’m just responsible for being down bad enough to write it :) if you send me an off hand message you will be blocked for not knowing how to avoid content you don’t like. bye  (p.s. we are just gonna pretend that people do not need to use the bathroom in this fic bc im not about to find a work around to let this man relieve himself. no piss or shit will be mentioned in this fic or in any of my fics ever. thanks.) 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags :: pain, making out, frottage, biting, dirty talk, mocking, uh….getting turned on by the idea of Namjoon dying, unprotected sex, cream pie, mentions of eating pussy, mentions of multiple orgasms

~

The leaking ceiling was somehow nicer sounding than the one in his apartment, and his bruised ribs feel less painful now that he’s laid here for three days on the cold and molded floor. Plenty of time to heal, plenty of time to think, and plenty of time to build up a distinct type of rage within his body. 

If he hadn’t made that tiny mistake, he would be at the shop surrounded by faces that are sworn to protect him. He would be swimming in money, women, and eating only the finest delicacies this city has to offer. But no, he had to trust the wrong fucking person. 

It was impressive actually, that the man going by the name of “John” managed to slip through the cracks. Yoongi grew fond of him quickly, especially with how eager the newcomer was to kill and maim not only alongside him, but for him without a single doubt. 

He should have known that he was experienced, especially with the way he killed, with the way he drank, with the way he fucked every woman accepted in the confines of the hideout. He should have known that he was in a gang already, and that said group had been out to get him for years.

Jungkook was his real name. A man who had been given endearing nicknames from both himself and other high-ranking men within this gang. He answered most to the name of “Jojo”, looking Yoongi dead in the eye with vicious intent and loyalty. He was a good liar, better than himself, apparently.

Yoongi really messed up, learning the truth only when he was met with Namjoon, face to face and battered up black and blue before being restrained and left in this unknown location. Naturally, there is a type of rage within him right now that could kill a large sum of men in one breath. 

Unfortunately, he can’t. His wrists have been bound in the same position for three days, and he has still been unable to unbind them. His legs are numb from the stomping, but still working through the intense pain of his attempts at slithering across the floor to find a new spot on the cold ground. 

The room is empty, there is nothing save for a chair in the corner and a doorknob that remains locked. There is only a single window, both the walls and floor are concrete and cinderblocks, and the only sound he’s heard since his last broken finger cracked through his ears, is the sound of that fucking water dripping. 

He lifts his head, only to drop it back to the floor in a huff. Not quite in a sound of defeat, but more so a sound of frustration. Surely the men who did this have already been killed, surely his loyal friends are searching for him. Surely–

A new sound. 

Yoongi can barely comprehend hearing something other than the slow and consistent drip, drip, drip of the ceiling leaking just a few feet from him. He’s grown weak within the three days he spent here, delirious even. No food and only those very drips of water to quench his sore and dried out throat. That sound is familiar though, and his drowsy eyes can hardly make sense of it. 

Then another new sound. Something clicking. Echoing through these empty walls and meshing with the two other sounds, creating a new song in his head that somehow seems like bliss. 

He thinks hard about the tune in his head, wondering if it’s similar to a song he knows, or if he’s just going insane from the feeling of his stomach both healing and starving. It is too much sensation for him, as he curls up in a pathetic little ball of a person and wonders what the others would think to see him like this.

He lays there, thinking about those sounds becoming louder and louder before his eyes shoot open in realization.

Those are footsteps.

An immediate headache hits him when he forces his body up, sitting uncomfortable on the floor with his arms still twisted behind his back. He stares at the door in wait, wondering if it’ll be his brothers bursting through, or an enemy. 

When that door opens though, his face twists similar to the way it did when he was getting held down and his fingers snapped to the side. 

“F-” he tries to say upon seeing Jungkook for the first time since it all went down, but his throat is too dry to speak and he coughs instead. 

“Happy to see me?” Jungkook smiles, stepping to the side to reveal another person with him. 

Yoongi glares, not paying attention even the slightest to the person standing just behind him. That clicking sound matched her shoes, so pristine against this dirty floor. He doesn’t dare speak again, as his eyes trail down to the gun in Jungkook's hand, and then shift to the side at the plastic bag in her hand. 

He can make out a bottle, and possibly, food. He won’t grove for it though, no. 

~

“Damn, you guys really fucked  him up. I never thought you actually caught him.” You smile in an uneasy way, walking back alongside Jungkook and making your way out of the building. 

“Told you we got him. Namjoon seemed really pleased, you think he’s finally going to let me into the circle?” Jungkook’s shining eyes somehow seem innocent with that question as you look at him. 

“If he wasn’t fond of you, he wouldn’t have let you escort me here,” You start, lowering your sunglasses from your head to your eyes to avoid the bright sunlight once you step outside. “He would have brought me himself. You’re already in.”

“You certainly complained enough wanting to see, I was shocked he even let you this time, even more shocked that he asked me to bring you.” 

Jungkook smiles again, wanting to pat himself on the back for his hard and dedicated work to Namjoon. He’s a harsh man but one that he wants on his side nonetheless. If this is going to be his life he’d rather be sitting in the room drinking expensive liquor than out running the streets and committing petty crimes. 

This was his deal and he knew for a fact that he wouldn’t fuck it up again. He was very nearly kicked out, and by kicked out, he means killed by Namjoon himself. Why? Well, as experienced as he is at killing, fighting, and being an asshole, he wasn’t too experienced with smuggling substances across country lines. 

He got it easy though, thankfully being caught by one of them that resides within the government factions. Then again, that man ran straight to Namjoon and complained on his name, stating that they were all at risk of being caught if it wasn’t for the nim-witted officer he was stationed with that night. 

Started off well enough, Jungkook coughed the wrong way and his hands shook slightly. The officer immediately wanted to search the vehicle. Thankfully, one of theirs took over, and what did he find? Exactly what was he knew would be there.

Namjoon was pissed at the situation. Hauling Jungkook in as if he were one of their hostages, towering above him on the floor and tipping his head back with the heel of his expensive boot. 

“What should I do with you now?” Namjoon said to him, huffing in a gutteral way out of frustration. “You’re telling me you can kill three men without breaking a sweat but you can’t get through a security check without shivering in fear?!” 

Jungkook knows better than to speak, he simply nods. 

“You’re lucky it went down the way it did, and you’re lucky your cousin put in a good word for you.” Namjoon continued, crouching down to Jungkook’s level on the floor and looking him in the eye. “If you fuck this one up, you’re done.” 

Honestly, he couldn’t believe the kindness Namjoon gave to him. He’s known for having a temper, and he’s known for being unforgiving, but he got a second chance, and he wasn’t going to fuck that up. 

That deal was to run off and act much like he did while trying to smuggle those drugs. Be a puppy for another gang, get close, get in with the crowd, and then get Min Yoongi. The man who killed Namjoon’s closest brother  some four years ago. His grudge never left, and unfortunately, Yoongi was very nearly untouchable. 

Jungkook did his duty, and now, he’s in. The girlfriend of Namjoon himself said so and with that, he can’t help but feel proud when he sees that man suffering in the room alone. He can’t help but be happy as he escorts you back to Namjoon. Truly, he can’t help it. 

~ 

“We can’t just starve him.” You argue another three days after you last saw proof of the man confined in that abandoned building. 

“This is why I forbid you from seeing the hostages. ” Namjoon tries not to argue with you, but it’s gotten to the point that you really just need to sit down and shut up about it. “He killed the only other man I could trust, and you want me to give him a fucking menu?” 

“Well, no but,” You start, but Namjoon cuts you off. 

“That’s enough. If you’re so worried about him tell Jungkook to swing by with some dog food.” 

You look to the floor with a short nod, knowing for a fact that this is just the way it goes. You figured your boyfriend would want to strangle the man with his bare hands rather than let him rot away slowly. There’s too many opportunities for Yoongi to be found there, and far too many variables in the situation. The least he can have is a meal before he dies, right? 

Then again, you know you’re quite soft despite the lifestyle you live. Min Yoongi is not a good man, but he is still a man. You’re a bit curious about him too. He was kind of cute even as he sat on that floor battered, so those rumors about him being easy on the eyes were true. Not that a scale of attractiveness really matters, considering he’s killed people from this family with a smile on his face. 

You think hard that night, alone in bed as Namjoon probably mingles around the club he recently took control of. Imagining how awful the hostage must feel, all alone in the dark. It  has you thinking a bit too hard about what it means to be human. You know where that apartment building is, and you know where the nearest convenience store is. Jungkook already knows you tried to feed him once and it didn’t work (because Yoongi kicked it across the floor out of spite.), so you’re unsure of how it would go down if you went alone.

Still, it’s not like you’d be in any danger, not when you grab one of the guns and slide it into an empty purse. 

~

Arriving at the building feels scarier than it did when Jungkook was with you. It’s dark, and you can hear creaking as the wind picks up and rain begins to fall. Still, you take a deep breath and rush inside with another offer of food. 

You follow your footsteps from before. Left, left, down a flight of stairs, right, and left. The hallway that contains his prison feels much longer than before, and the sound of rain is nearly muted at this point. You feel as if you’re buried deep within a tomb, with a flashy and loud bag of snacks for a man that killed your boyfriend’s brother. 

It feels silly, but you still think you could at least try to communicate with him. However stupid this decision is, you pay no mind.

When you get to the door, the room is so dark and quiet that you wonder if you either picked the wrong room or he’s dead already. Still, you flip on the flashlight you grabbed and place it on the chair in the corner, shining it directly at the man lying on the floor. 

You take a moment to look around and smile slightly when you notice the food he kicked from him before has been eaten. Surely that pack of crackers and bottled water wasn’t enough, but it’s all Jungkook would let slide without fearing for his life again. 

“Hi.” You say in a peppy voice, seemingly in a much better spot than he is and accidentally making it more obvious. 

Yoongi groans, rolling over to look at you briefly before letting his head fall back to the floor. 

“I brought food again. There’s more this time.” You smile when you say it, shaking the bag as if Yoongi truly were a dog that would jump and do tricks for the food. “It’s against the rules, and I’m not supposed to be here so I suggest you fucking appreciate it this time.”

He rolls his eyes as he lies there, weak and hardly able to move. He does try though, more willing now to grovel, more willing to do just about anything for food so he can at least get his thoughts straight. 

You watch him struggle to sit up, and only now realize that he really is dying. He’s actually starving and probably can’t simply appreciate the food if he doesn’t have the energy to even hold his head up. 

“Do you need some help?” You ask, walking around and shining the light at his face.

You’re taken aback by his eyes. They’re dull and lifeless as he gives a small nod. You can see that he’s silently pleading. 

“Ah, right. Starvation and all that.” You say with a pained laugh, grabbing the bag and scooting it next to him before crouching down and trying to lift him up.

His body is horrendously lightweight, and something inside of you twists at the feeling of him slumped in your arms. You hold him there, listening to his pained groans as you glance around the room and start to drag him. 

“Here, sit up,” You say, propping him against the wall and going back for the bag. “I’ve got two sandwiches, two bottles of water, and an ibuprofen.”

You see his pained and choked chuckle at the mention of an ibuprofen, as if that’s a bandaid for the immense amount of anguish he’s been feeling. Still, he relishes in the feeling of another person being near him. The energy alone helps him keep his eyes open. 

“Can you chew?” You ask, looking at him as you unwrap a sandwich and try to place it against his lips. “Um,” 

You feel defeated seeing someone in this state so closely. Regardless of what he’s done, you feel pity and slight disgust of his treatment. No wonder Namjoon forbids you most of the time from meeting hostages or looking at crime scenes as if it were a zoo for your entertainment. 

“You must feel awful,” You whisper, trying again to push the sandwich past his lips. “Can you eat this for me?” 

He tries. Opening his mouth and feeling the sensation of taste. His mouth waters and burns at the sudden feeling, drool running out of the sides of his lips as he tries to work up the energy to chew. His throat is too dry to swallow though, and he chokes on the barely chewed piece of sandwich.

You’re quick to grab a bottle of water and tilt his head back. You grab his cheeks and hold his head steady and his mouth open, pouring a bit of the water into his mouth and watching how long it takes for him to swallow both the food and the water. 

“God, I know I should be hating you but this really is pitiful.” You comment, feeling as if you’re already talking to a corpse.

In a way you are, and you hate it. So maybe, knowing that Namjoon intends to leave this man here unbothered and unfed until he’s dead, surely you can…you know…help the situation.

~

On one end, you’re betraying an entire gang of men and women who have protected you for years. You’re betraying your boyfriend, the leader of that gang, but…humanity still exists within you. Since that night, feeding a viscous killer, you couldn’t stop thinking of the state he was in.

You knew Namjoon was a killer but he never let you see that side of him. You saw Yoongi once three days after his capture and he still looked alive and well despite being heavily beaten. And just those three days later, you saw how much the world seemed to have forgotten him.

You have heard whispers of the rival gang searching for him, but they have been met with no luck. You appear to be his only saving grace, which is a terrifying place to have put yourself in. Still, if they’re going to kill him, you’d rather they just shoot him in the head and leave it at that. 

You’re meddling where you shouldn’t be, and you still have no idea why you feel compelled to do it. 

On the other end, you find yourself in deep shit when you continue to visit Yoongi late at night to essentially undo what your boyfriend has ordered. You notice how far you’ve gone when Yoongi can start talking, when he can start moving, when his eyes brighten up a little more, when his cheeks become fuller. 

The moment you see him, with faded bruises and still swollen fingers, you wonder what he looked like without being so fucked up. His face is still pretty, even when he was on the verge of death, and here you are watching him appreciate that you, an enemy, continue to keep him alive.

“He’s going to kill you for this, you know.” Yoongi comments, eating away at the meal you’ve brought him this time. “Feeding me so often. I’m pretty sure they were leaving me here to die.”

“They were.” You huff, sitting on the wooden chair and watching the way his energy grows. “I figure if I get caught, I’ll just kill you first and then myself.”

“Bold,” He ticks his tongue, still not looking away from the food in front of him. “I can imagine they think I’m already dead.” 

A wave of cold fear hits you. That’s right. Surely by now, he would be dead, and surely they’d come check and hide the body or something. But no one has shown up, no one but you. You can imagine that by now, they’re probably planning to come see him, and seeing him alive and well would pose questions. Lots of questions.

Thankfully, no one notices when you leave at night. You never leave when Namjoon stays with you, and you never make yourself suspicious either. If they have any questions, they certainly wouldn’t expect you to be the one to answer them.

“So, why’d you kill him?” You ask, wondering if you can at least learn some information about him before all of this comes crashing down around him.

“Kill who? I’ve killed a lot of people, most of them I don’t even know their names.” He laughs, narrowing his eyes at you. “Who are you, anyway?”

You pause. He’s still a dead man despite that beating heart so telling him wouldn’t change a thing, you assume. You give him your name and follow up with your title.

“You’re dating that pompous asshole? You know what he did to my family, right?” Yoongi looks at you with a face you hadn't seen before. There’s a lot of hate behind it as he sneers at you. 

“I don’t, no. But I can imagine he probably killed them, right?”

Yoongi nods with a grimace, for the first time losing his appetite. It’s laughable, really. 

“If you’re referring to his friend, I shot him. It was a quick death. But do you know what he did to my friends?” He continues with an evil smirk, as if telling you will hurt you as much as he’s been hurt. 

You shake your head, breathing in deeply at the images in your head.

“Well, you saw what he was doing to me. I’m shocked he was being so kind with my demise.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, both curious and afraid to actually learn what he means.

“Have you ever seen what happens to a body after they’ve been floating in murky water for a week?” 

You shake your head.

“Have you ever heard the snap of a neck?” 

You again, shake your head.

“Well, isn’t that nice?” He laughs, now gaining his appetite back. “Both of those things, I'd love to do to your boyfriend.” 

His eyes flick up to meet yours, and for some reason, you don’t shiver.

“Are you saying those are things he’s done?” You ask, genuinely curious. 

“Well, yeah. Most of us have. But him. He’s particularly brutal, likes to send us videos, y’know? I bet you’ve never watched the only person you’ve ever loved get doused in gasoline and set on fire either, have you?”

You freeze, another chill running down your body. Namjoon did that? Like, you knew killing was part of it but you really expected a typical gunshot or stabbing. This, this is something else. Given, you watched him starve the man in front of you so, should it be as shocking as it is? 

But it is, because he did this to someone’s girlfriend? You’re his girlfriend, and by doing that to Yoongi, surely that put a hit on your head. 

“He’s not so pretty in your head now, huh?” Another laugh. 

“Is that why you killed him?” You ask, trying to avert the attention to someone other than Namjoon. 

“No. Unfortunately, I was the one who did the first hit. But to be fair,” Yoongi twists his wrists bound behind him and tilts his head in a playful way. “He did some unsavory things to that same person I loved.” 

Unsavory things. You can’t imagine what that could be outside of, well, rape. Namjoon’s best friend, his brother, raped Yoongi’s girlfriend. And then Namjoon set her on fire in retaliation? 

“Why are you so quiet now?” Yoongi asks, finishing off his food with little to no hesitation and staring at the water. “Not too happy to learn that I’m not the only piece of shit you seem to cling to?”

You take offense to that, eyes trailing to that same bottle of water he’s looking at. 

“Fuck you.” You say, standing from your place and grabbing that bottle of water, opening it, and pouring it out on the floor in front of him. “If you're thirsty, there, have at it.” 

You don’t even look at him when you turn and walk away, locking the door and promising yourself that you won’t come back. There’s no way Namjoon did those things, and you’re not fucking clinging. 

~

Fortunately for Yoongi, no one unsavory shows up two days later. It’s you again, reluctantly stepping in with his delivery of food and energy. 

“Here I was thinking you wouldn’t come back.” He laughs, scooting from the wall and toward you. By now his legs are feeling better, and he can even move some of his fingers, which is very lucky because he really thought they had been twisted. 

“You’re lucky I did.” You deadpan, walking up to him and looking down. “I learned that maybe you’re not much of a liar, are you?” 

He tilts his head at you with a smirk, nodding his head in a genuine way. 

“I’m either going to die, or you are. What’s the point in keeping secrets?”

You nod brokenly, breathing in a deep sigh and still trying to process the things you confirmed on your own. Jungkook may be in, but he sure does have a loud mouth when you start asking him questions. The good news is that, if Namjoon found out Jungkook shared those secrets, he’d be on the chopping block again. So, he’s kind of stuck with you in this limbo of wondering who to trust and who not to trust. 

You, now fearing your own boyfriend who not only holds you on the nights he’s home, but tells you he loves you, feel at a loss when you look at Yoongi. 

Both men have committed atrocities and it’s funny how you expected them to have not been that way. At least the man before you told you the truth though. He protected a person he loved, and Namjoon killed people for it. 

“Yoongi.” You say his name for the first time and he grimaces immediately at it. 

“What makes you think we are on a first name basis?” He asks, snidely. 

“I had to feed you like a fucking baby, I can call you whatever I damn well please.” You argue, stepping back and reaching for the chair to sit in front of him. 

“You think you can just call me whatever you want because you chose to fuck your life up and keep me alive?” He laughs again, clearly very aware of the position he’s in but still unafraid. “So fucking clingy. I don’t see how he stands it.”

You scoff, poking your tongue in your cheek at the audacity of this man. 

“Have you ever heard of saying “Thank you”?” You ask, rolling your eyes and kicking him over. 

He falls with a huff, but lays there chuckling about it. 

“Either way, Jungkook said he was ordered to come here in two days to get rid of your body. So, I suggest you either roll over and die or we figure something out.”

“We?” He questions, sitting himself back up and looking at you with a raised brow. “So, you’re working for me now?”

You look around the room, wanting to cry because it damn well seems that way considering what you’ve learned. Namjoon would probably kill you without blinking . Unfortunately, yeah, maybe you are.

“It seems so.” You look at him, noticing how his once dull and lifeless eyes are full of energy and rage. Noticing even more how he looks up and down your body.

You can imagine the man is touch starved, and for some reason, that is…kind of attractive. Such a wanted man checking you out as if you both aren’t on the verge of being shoved into a morgue freezer. 

“Oh yeah?” His eyes stay roaming, and then he flicks them back up at you. “I’ve gotta hand it to you, it’s pretty hot to know you’re turning your back on that piece of shit.” 

In his head, he’s very clearly barely back to reality. After all, he’s been in this room entirely alone save for you. Nearly dying and then coming back from the brink of death because of you. Is it so wrong for him to kind of, you know, be a man in such a dire situation? 

“I haven’t turned my back on him! I’m just,” You pause, going quiet for a moment to think. “I’m just trying to figure out if I can accept what he’s done.”

“And so, you’re asking me what to do so we both don’t get killed? Hate to tell you babe, but even if you chose to stay, I'd tell them the second they find me alive that you’re the one who fed me.” 

You glare at him, knowing that you’re both facing a brick wall with guns pointed to your head. 

“I bet you would.” 

“He and I are pretty similar, watching you die wouldn’t sting even a tiny bit.” He continues, poking and pushing the buttons he realizes you have. “Thank you though.”

You look down at him, tilting your head and, for some reason, smiling.

“You’re welcome.” You say, standing to your feet and walking around him. 

He protests the second he feels your arms snake around him and try to lift him. His body now having a bit more weight to it, you feel pleased that you kept him alive, for some reason.

“Sit on the chair.” You say, still tugging him up and noticing how he wobbles on his legs. 

Yoongi says nothing, for some reason no longer fighting and instead focusing on seeing if his legs still work. Somehow, they’re not broken, and he’s able to stand on them for a brief moment before leaning the entirety of his weight on you. 

“Clingy.” He laughs in an out of breath whisper, fumbling to the chair and finally falling into it. 

“Did you love your girlfriend?” You ask, stepping back and looking at him propped in his chair. 

“I did.” He admits, looking straight past you and at the wall. “Can’t now though.”

You look to the ground. 

“Would you have killed her if she kept Namjoon alive behind your back?” You ask.

“No.” He admits again, laughing at himself. “Would have killed myself before I ever laid a hand on her.” 

You think hard about the similarities between Yoongi and Namjoon, but you struggle to find many of them. Which is terrifying.

“So, you really think Namjoon would kill me for the same reasons?”

“Babe,” He lets out a pained laugh for you, shaking his head in pity. “I don’t think it. I know it.”

You nod your head, because you honestly think he would too. 

“So, what now?” You ask, knowing there is no answer to the question. 

“I’d suggest you run home to him.” He says, nodding his head to the door as if to encourage you. “I don’t suppose I can expect you to accidentally let one of my family members know where I am though, can I?”

“No,” you say sadly, trying to force the tears threatening to shed to stay behind your eyelids. “I suppose you can’t.”

It’s silent for a long while, but you can’t bring yourself to leave. Realizing how much safer you feel in this prison compared to in bed next to Namjoon. It’s frightening, truly, that you could be killed simply for having humanity. Yoongi’s girlfriend was killed because his humanity drove him to revenge. Maybe you’re the one more similar to Yoongi. 

“I’m not really going to tell them, you know.” Yoongi calls out, dropping his head and looking at you from under his messy hair. “I might kill, but rarely without reason. I’m satisfied enough with the idea that you might leave him.”

You stare at him.

“You’re too naive to be involved with all of this. He seems to do a pretty shit job at protecting you, considering you’re here with me.”

You continue to look at him, questioning every word he’s saying. 

“You’re pretty similar to her, you know? I mean, minus the whole going behind his back thing.” Yoongi smiles when he looks at you, and arguably that expression hits you right in the gut. 

“If I untie you, would you come after me?” You ask, studying him. 

“Maybe, who knows?” He watches you go behind him anyway. “You like playing with fire, don’t you?” 

His eyes light up at the feeling of you behind him, hoping to god you’re truly weak hearted enough to untie him. He could run, he could fulfill this rage growing in his heart, but those hopes are shattered when you come back into view. 

You lean down, inches from his face and look directly into his eyes. Searching for a reason to think he would kill you the instant you untie those hands. What you see instead, is his eyes flicking to your lips. 

You, in turn, flick your eyes to his and you don’t even know why you do it. Perhaps it’s the overwhelming feeling of death looming over the two of you. You hold Yoongi’s life in your hands, and he technically holds your life in his if he were to tell on you. The feeling is driven solely by fear, disgust, hate, pity.

You kiss him. His breath not offering much outside of the citrus fruit he had eaten when you offered it to him just an hour earlier. 

It’s silent, and you can imagine he truly could have gone insane in this room all by himself. You feel yourself going insane too, despite feeling safer. 

And when you pull back reluctantly, Yoongi’s eyes shine a little differently. His smirk is still scary but his eyes are soft and pleading. That dull look in his eyes from the first night you fed him? That tiny little glint of need shining through to you? That is showing in full force and you wonder if he notices it. 

“He’d definitely kill you.” Yoongi laughs, still looking at you. 

It’s silent again, save for a few quick breaths leaving your chest. You give him a short nod, because you know he’s right and there’s no point in denying it at this point.

“But I wouldn’t.”

All you can do is fall farther into the insanity that fills this room at that. Leaning in and kissing him again, this time a bit more desperate, releasing all of the tension inside of you on him as you bring your body closer, and straddle his sore and weak legs. 

“Are you asking to die?” He comments at your closeness, confirming that you may actually be as clingy as he joked that you were. It appears that death doesn’t seem to scare you at this moment, nor does it scare him. 

If anything, having Namjoon’s girl straddling his lap without so much as asking for it is a new kind of desire in his mind. Namjoon may have killed his ex girlfriend, but he didn’t fuck her. Which, arguably, isn’t worse than losing her but still makes his heart race with anger at the thought. The idea of taking you from that man even for a moment is blissful. An ultimate insult, one that would piss Namjoon off beyond belief. Surely he’d be left in a different room to be eaten by rats next time he makes an attempt on his life. 

“Hm?” Yoongi continues, letting you kiss him, feeling your weight on his sore body, kind of loving the feeling because he hasn’t touched a woman since his girlfriend died. But if he’s going to end up dead, he might as well fuck Namjoon’s girlfriend beforehand, right? 

“Maybe I am,” you answer, breathlessly. “Are you?” You ask, leaning back and looking at him.

“You do realize I’m one of the most wanted men in this country, right?” He laughs, smirking and feeling quite cocky with the turn of events. 

“That,” You eye him, feeling his length twitch beneath you. “you are.” 

He chuckles, noting that you’re suddenly complimenting him now.

“Wanted by you wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but alright.” He shrugs, pressing his hips up and against you. “Can you at least untie my hands if you’re going to throw yourself at me like this?”

You shake your head, lifting off of him a bit and checking that his hands are still bound. 

“No,” You laugh, sitting back down and noticing his harsh reaction to your weight on his legs again. “Does your dick still work?”

Yoongi glares, unsure of how he feels about fucking someone while bound and in pain like this, but who is he to say no? Again, Namjoon’s girlfriend. Rage and revenge. If he can live through a heavy beating and starvation, surely he can handle a girl bouncing on his cock. 

“It appears so,” He says, feeling the twitch in his pants fight against the pain of his legs. “Why, you gonna fuck me?”

“Maybe, who knows?” You respond, leaning back down and biting hard against his neck. 

He glares at the wall, seemingly enthralled with the idea but still not entirely happy with the situation at hand. He’s not typically the person to be fucked, and yet, here you are moving your hips against his battered body, bumping against his cock each time. 

Shaking himself out of it, he has to remember that again, this is Namjoon’s girlfriend and he wants to fuck her for no other reason than pissing him off. So, whatever. 

“Are you this eager with him too?” He asks, trying to crane his neck from your biting mouth to get you to look at him. “or am I just lucky?”

Lucky, hah. You scoff against his neck before pulling back to look at him. 

“You really do talk a lot of shit, you know that?” You say, deliberately pressing more weight against his legs to elicit a pained groan out of him. 

“I’ve been told, yes.” He groans in a half laugh, not wanting to appear as broken as you know he has been. “You’re still the one trying to fuck enemy number one though.” 

Internally, your heart is racing. 

“Maybe I’m the lucky one then?” You offer, moaning a bit at the feeling of how hard he’s gotten despite the state of his body. “Most wanted man in the country right? Sitting right here, tied up, at my mercy.”

“Damn, I didn’t know Namjoon liked to be slapped around.” Yoongi laughs, wincing again at both the pain and pleasure you’re offering to him. 

“He doesn’t.” You respond, tilting your head before leaning in close to his ear. “I’m the one who likes that.” 

His arms shake within their bounds, broken fingers be damned he still has another hand to use. 

“Then fucking untie me,” He grouches, huffing out through his nose and attempting to push you away by shifting his legs. “If you like it so much, let me do it.” 

You shake your head again, this time with your own pitied laugh. 

“You’d kill me. I know you said you wouldn’t but you were just trying to get on my good side.” You coo out at him after your comment, ghosting your lips over his. “It must hurt pretty bad to know how pathetic you look right now.” 

He very nearly spits at you for looking down on him with intent. Sure, before you probably looked down on him because he was literally dying. But now? This is a blatant insult, and he can’t help but feel some of that rage build up within him. 

“Pathetic?” He laughs, staring down at the way your hips continue to move. “You’re the one getting yourself off on a man who would kill your boyfriend in an instant.” 

“Do it then.” you say, unsure of why you’re suddenly so okay with the idea of murder. Maybe because if Yoongi did it, you know he’d probably be quick with it. He didn’t seem to take pleasure in describing such gory scenes to you, so clearly he must not like to savor them either. Not like Namjoon, who appears to favor giving others a long and painful death. 

“Fuck,” Yoongi calls out, being entirely aroused by your willingness to tell him to kill your boyfriend. The thought of hurting him alone could get Yoongi off within seconds. The relief of killing the man who caused so much pain would be better than any orgasm or twelve hundred dollar bottle of wine. 

“Say that again,” Yoongi groans, replaying those words you just said in his head. His own hips moving against you now. “Say it and I swear I’ll kill him when I get out of here.” 

You don’t comment at first. “when I get out of here.” he said, as if he knows for a fact you’ll untie him. As if he trusts that you’re with him one hundred percent. Hell, at this point, maybe you are. Feeling so unsafe and so very aware of how dead you actually may become, fighting to keep yourself alive is easier to swallow than letting your own boyfriend kill you for betraying him. Fight or flight, the brain works so strangely when it needs to survive. 

“Do it,” You repeat, hearing his breath hitch in an embarrassing way. “I bet you would, wouldn’t you?”

He nods proudly, still writhing his arms and wanting so badly to be free, not even to escape at this point, but to hold onto your waist and feel more of that pain you offer to him. 

“Fucking untie me.” He demands, legs shaking as he continues to try and chase the rhythm of your harsh grinding hips. “You think I’d kill you when you’re talking to me like this?” 

“I think you would.” You laugh, now pulling back off of his lap and standing to your feet in front of him. 

You look down at him, his cock towering in his dirty jeans. For some reason, you’re not disgusted by the fact that he’s filthy. You’re more disgusted with the idea of going home and smelling the shampoo Namjoon uses to wash the blood out of his hair. 

“I wouldn't.” He repeats himself, now moving back and forth in his chair to try and unbind his hands much like he did the first night he was here. “If i planned on killing you, i’d fuck you first anyway.”

You narrow your eyes, watching him try to break free before you lunge forward and lean over him again. Much like before, you grab his face and force him to look into your eyes. 

“I’m not untying you.” You say sternly, as if to warn him that it’s the final time you’ll say it. “You have two days left, and I’m not coming back after this.”

“I know.” He admits, bucking his hips up at nothing. “So, if you could just pull my dick out and get to it, I'd really appreciate it.”

You poke your tongue to your cheek again, wondering how the fuck this man manages to stay so confident in such a position. You wonder even harder why you listen to him. 

Just as he asked, you lower yourself to your knees and lay your head on his knee. For a moment, he watches you and understands why Namjoon must like you so much. You’re pretty down there, with playful eyes even in the face of death. You’re definitely something else. One, for ending up with Namjoon, and two, for ending up in this room with him like this. 

“I think you could probably drive anyone insane,” Yoongi says in a voice that seems too soft for him. “If he’s really stupid enough to kill you for giving him the chance to kill me again, he’s a lot more dumb than I expected.”

You smile, blinking up at his compliment. 

“Thank you.” You say, feeling so lost in this situation that at this point, you feel like you’d rather just stay here and let Jungkook find you both two days from now. It’s a fucked up situation on all ends, but at least you feel okay right now, with your chin resting on a killer’s knee, glancing at his cock, wondering how you want to pleasure it. 

He stops talking by this point, bucking his hips to encourage you to stop staring and pull it out. The sound of his clothing rubbing against that old wooden chair suddenly feels loud, and your ears begin to ring as your heart picks up. 

There is a specific realization in this moment regarding all of that humanity that drove you to this point. Helping this man is one thing, but wanting him is something completely different. In your head, you question everything you feel at this moment. Are you chasing comfort from none other than, and he was right to say it, the most wanted man in the country? More wanted than Namjoon? Perhaps that’s because Namjoon has other’s do his dirty work though. Yoongi appears to kill personally, and quickly. It’s no wonder he got caught by the gang you call family. 

You remember being told that they got him, and that he was to be killed. You remember mocking Namjoon, complaining that you wouldn’t believe it until you saw him. You remember Jungkook sitting in the driver’s side of the car and driving you here for the first time, and you remember that one of your first thoughts about Yoongi was that he didn’t look much like a gang leader lying on the floor like that. You thought he was cute, almost puppy like in his defiance. 

When he spilled all of those truths about Namjoon and the men and women you are surrounded with, you did lean more into Yoongi than the people who claim to love you. You didn’t know why you kept him alive, you didn’t know why you betrayed those you love. If anything, you know now that is was simply humanity. 

Something that you cling to, and something that the majority of people around you have thrown away. When you look at Yoongi though, alive because of you, you see his humanity too. There is a fire in his eye that doesn't sing out for rage and blood, no. It’s a look you couldn’t find in Namjoon’s eye just a day before. Humanity brought you to save this man, and it also brought you to find him attractive despite his state, and it also brought you to this. Wanting him.

Wanting to comfort him from those atrocities your boyfriend committed toward him, because you can defend why Yoongi killed the man who once brought you a cake for your birthday. You wanted to keep him alive because somehow, in your gut, you knew he didn’t deserve to die this way. 

And now, so terrified of what this situation might bring, you’re turned on by fear. The arousal of him talking so much shit, complimenting you through insults, looking at you in a way Namjoon never did drives a distinct type of butterfly within your belly. You fear every single person outside of this room, but Yoongi. You want him to yourself. 

Yoongi watches you against his knee, seemingly in deep thought as your face falls and lightens up with realization. He finds himself smiling at the situation. He was really quite lucky for Namjoon to be dating such a woman. If he hadn't been, surely he would be dead and limp in the corner, rotting until his body is hidden elsewhere two days from now. But he’s not, his heart is beating and his cock is raging much like the hate in his heart for the men who seemed to have claimed you.

Don’t get him wrong though, it’s not that he likes you in the way Namjoon seems to. He gets why he does though. The fact of the matter is that you put yourself in a terrifying situation to keep him alive for no reason that has truly been given. It’s natural for him to owe you now, and what he owes you is nothing short of his own life for putting yourself in the line of fire like this. 

Yoongi does like you though. Likes the way you look at death the same way he does, being reckless and making mistakes despite clearly having some sort of intelligence. His attraction to you comes in the form that you’re a woman, you’re Namjoon’s woman, you’re attractive, and you really did give him his life back. Even still restrained, he’s turned on beyond belief. Never having been put in a situation where he fucks the inevitable out of his mind, but it’s exactly what he intends to do. 

Not just to spite Kim Namjoon, but also to somehow repay you. You got on top of him, you kissed him, and if you want to fuck the life of out him, he owes you that much too. At least when you leave him here, if you leave him here, he knows that he made you feel good too. 

“Well?” He finally says, pulling you out of your drifting thoughts and making your eyes shoot back up to him. “You just gonna look at it or?”

You blink twice before glancing back down at his cock and feel the resolve within you strengthen. Your mind is suddenly so clear when you reach forward and unbutton his pants, sliding them down his legs and completely off of him.

You gasp when you see how bruised his legs are, realizing that you were just sitting directly on them. Thankfully, again, they’re not broken but you can imagine the weakness he feels. 

“Oh.” You breathe out, letting your fingers ghost over one of the deepest and darkest bruises. Shaped like a boot and showing a pattern that looks very similar to the pair of boots your boyfriend wears. You watch him wince at the energy of your fingers, not even touching the spot but simply close enough to still somehow manage to hurt him. 

“I’ve had worse,” he urges you, leaning forward a bit and looking at you. “What, you think I can’t handle a couple of bruises?”

You look up at him, trying to push the range of colors against his skin out of your mind as your eyes land and focus back between his legs. Not surprising that it can distract you almost instantly as it stands against the last remaining restraining fabric. 

His hips buck up when he sees your hands go for the waistband of his underwear, licking his lower lip with a silent chant in his head of yes, yes, yes! Perhaps it’s because he lost his mind, but it’s really not such a bad deal to be able to get so turned on in a situation like this. After all, he owes you, so he might as well get into it, right? 

When you pull off his underwear, instantly you’re just staring. In awe that he can manage to be turned on at all right now, ultimately quite happy that it still works too.

“I bet all the girls love getting fucked by you.” You comment, staring at his cock and the way it stands more lively than the rest of his body. 

“On the contrary babe. I don’t fuck just anyone.” He chuckles snidely, looking down at the way your eyes swallow him up. “If I’m fucking someone, only I’m fucking her.”

“Lucky her, bet you go for the pretty ones too.” 

“You misunderstand me,” he chuckles softly, his cock twitching at the way your energy changed once you got a good look at it. “If I fuck her, she’s only fucking me.” 

You pause, noting another lack of similarity between Yoongi and your boyfriend. Namjoon fucks other women, sometimes in just a room over from you. Part of you wishes he was as possessive as the man before you on all fronts. Enough to kill a man for you like Yoongi did, enough to starve and suffer in a room for protecting you. 

“What happens when Namjoon gets his hands on me again, then?”

“He won’t be able to once I’m done with you.” 

You pause, unsure if that’s a threat on your life or a threat for a good time. The gamble is the same either way, so you offer him a sarcastic laugh. 

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” You ask, leaning forward and tip toeing your fingers up his length. 

“You wouldn’t want him to fuck you.” He says snidely, shivering at your touch. “Let me show you what it’s like to actually get fucked.” 

You breathe in deeply, pupils blowing out at the sound of those words. It only takes a moment to stand up and place yourself back on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and looking directly into his eyes. 

“Is that a promise?” You say, eyes burning in delight and ignoring the wince of pain that trembles through his body. “You think you can fuck me better?” 

He smirks and nods his head, pushing his cock forward as his legs start to go numb under your weight. He’s no longer uncomfortable, thinking with only one part of his body. 

“Let me,” He says, trying to show his dominance despite being restrained. “Sit on it and see, babe.”

You chuckle silently, lifting up on his lap and internally apologizing for the way your legs squeeze his thighs, he doesn’t react though. You snake your hands under your skirt to push your panties to the side and have no qualms with grabbing his cock and positioning it right where it needs to be. 

Yoongi shivers at the feeling of your hand grasping him, and the image of your eyes not leaving his when you do it. For once in his life, he is feeling so out of control, owing someone else, all while being pleasured? Honestly, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his time in captivity. 

“Sit.” He says in a demanding way, feeling the way you hover over him and make attempts to tease the pleasure. 

“You’re in no position to tell me what to do.” You laugh, still somehow following his order and sliding down just an inch and releasing a breath. 

He hums at it, holding his own pleasure in and watching you attempt to control yourself just through the small amount of cock he’s got in you. 

“Untie me, I’ll take care of you.” He tries to reason with you again, bucking his hips up and plunging another few inches against your aching walls. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nod, dropping your head to his shoulder as you brace yourself against the chair behind him. Slowly sinking down and adjusting to a size that isn’t what you’re accustomed to. And when you finally sit flush against his thighs, you spread your legs to offer him some relief and clench your pussy around him. 

“Untie me,” he says again, thrusting his hips up beneath your weight and trying to force in more of him despite having no more to offer. “Fuck.” 

You ignore his words and his chasing hips as your pussy hugs his length. You feel so full, so satisfied by his size inside of you. When he tries to fuck up, he doesn’t go far but the tight fit burns in a way that feels more arousing than you could have ever expected.

“You must hate being tied up,” You chuckle, finally moving your hips just a bit to relieve yourself of a bit of his length. “How does it feel to be at a woman’s mercy?” 

Yoongi glares at you when you say those words, pressing up and struggling with his strength as he tries to force those few inches back into you. 

“How does it feel?” He repeats the question to you. “I could be fucking the light out of your eyes right now if you’d just let me.”

You almost consider it, wondering what his working hand would feel like pressing against your skin. The other, too swollen and likely too painful to touch you. You’d still play with those fingers though, because the only way you can get a decent moan out of him is if he’s hurting. 

“The light already left my eyes, Yoongi.” You say.

He doesn’t hear a word of it outside of you using his first name again. He rolls his eyes at you, dropping his head back in a frustrated groan at how he’s both getting what he wants, but also not.

“No, your eyes are still shining.” He says when he lifts his head back up to face you, and you pull back a bit, rolling your hips before finally lifting again to actually start riding him. 

“So are yours.” You say, looking straight into them and smiling.

He doesn’t believe you, but the sensation of how wet you seem to be definitely would have any man’s eyes shining. 

“How does it feel?” You comment, noticing the shiver that runs down his body and his heaving chest. 

“Fucking tight.” He grimaces, “I’d keep you all to myself. Namjoon is a stupid, stupid man for letting you come here.”

“He’s a specific type of man,” You correct him, hovering over his lips. “Doesn’t even eat my pussy.”

“Goddamn, untie me.” Yoongi very nearly pleads, feeling the intensity of how your walls cling to him. 

He’s aching so much. He’s so fucking angry, and yet, he really is about to beg for you to release him. Not to run, not to kill you, but to pleasure you.

You still ignore him, ghosting your lips over his and watching his eyes droop into a drowsy stare at you. You were right when you said his eyes were shining, even like this, they are. You could argue that he feels good, you could argue that if you untied him, maybe he really would fuck you better than Namjoon does. 

“I bet you’d kill to have your hands on me right now, wouldn’t you?”

Yoongi nods brokenly, still trying to buck his hips up to make good on his promise, and still being met with frustration bubbling inside of him. He’s too restrained for this, his heart has grown soft at this ego blow, and yet, his cock still yearns inside of you. 

“I would.” He admits, his voice so broken sounding that you almost feel as if you’ve pushed him to his limit. 

“You’d eat me out too, wouldn’t you?” 

“Fuck yeah I would.” He admits again, this time seeming more determined as he starts to move his hands again in an attempt to free himself. “Let me.” He seethes out through a clenched jaw. 

You ignore him.

“Let me.” He says again, this time in a half moan when you move your hips with more intent. 

“If you make it out of here alive, I’ll let you.” You moan yourself, sliding back and forth against him, swirling your hips and feeling his weeping cock stretch you out even more. 

“You’re fucking insane.” Yoongi groans, tensing his muscles to offer more support for your languid grinding. “Fucking me so slow, making promises you know you can’t keep.”

“I’ll keep them,” You say, lowering your face to his neck and reaching your hands behind him, rubbing against his arms. “You’re giving me so much power right now, it’s hard not to savor it.”

He chuckles at your boldness, once again leaning his head back against the chair and allowing himself to relish in the feeling of the way you ride him. 

“If I make it out of here alive, I’m going to look him in the eye and tell him how wet and needy this pussy is for me.” 

“You’re so honest,” you laugh, picking up pace and fiddling with the binds on his hands. “That’s why I’m not going to untie you.”

“Faster,” he groans, imagining that he has healthy and free hands, guiding your hips on him. If he’s going to have to be like this though, the least he can do is try and guide you to the pace he should be fucking you at in this moment. “I want to hear how wet you are.”

You smirk, pulling your hands back and grabbing his face. His cheeks are fuller now compared to that night you came to bring him his life back, and they look plush when you squeeze them and force his eyes to stay on you. 

“Faster?” You ask, already pistoning your hips against him, the chair creaking and threatening to break under the weight the two of you offer. “Harder?” You ask, his eyes burning straight through you as if you’d be daring him to kill you if you don’t. 

He’s pleased by your pace, falling into a world of arousal in his head as you ride him exactly how he wants it. He can hear the wetness seeping out of you, and the best part is that it’s for him and not that pompous asshole who nearly killed him.

You bounce, fast and hard, drilling his cock so deeply into you that he finally releases a moan of pleasure right against your lips before rolling his eyes back and giving in. 

“Fuck, you do this for him, too?” He asks, eyes rolling back to look at you and the way the determination in your eyes only grows. 

“No,” You say out of breath, keeping that same pace and hiccupping with small moans each time. “He never lets me ride him” 

“Won’t eat you out, won’t let you ride him.” Yoongi mocks him, freely moaning now as you take him for all he’s worth. Which isn’t much at this point. “I’d worship you.”

You pause your movements, out of breath as you look at him. You glance down to his smiling lips, and then back up at his eyes. 

“I’d let you.” You say shortly, kissing him once again and returning back to your slow movements, pumping his cock inside of you so tightly that he fears this will end too quickly. 

And it does, when you feel his tongue tense up in your mouth and he starts kissing you harder. His harsh voice releases whimpers and breaths into your throat. The sounds coming from him are unintentional and entirely too arousing to ignore.  You can feel his length twitching aggressively inside of you, and you feel more full than you ever thought you could. You ride it out for him, giving him quick jerks of your hips to drag that sensitivity on as he finishes what you started. 

And then it’s silent, but he’s still kissing you. 

“Then let me.” He says once you part your lips, still holding him inside of you, and not daring to move a muscle.

~

You stay with him for a long while, torturing him in a way he finds himself loving by the time the sun rises and he now only has one day on this earth to live. You had spread yourself out on him, gotten him off twice, and then promptly moved him from the chair to get him on his knees. 

It was the first time since you’d been with Namjoon that you felt a tongue against your clit, breaking your own promise of letting if happen if he gets out of this situation. Arguably, you felt like you fell into this hole with Yoongi far too deep to even consider crawling out of it. He ate you like he was still starving, smirking as you swirled your needy clit against his tongue. He was eager to take the parts of you that Namjoon never wanted, it seems. 

And when the daylight rose and you were still here, panic sat in. You were filled with a man’s cum that isn’t your boyfriend’s. Your legs were arguably as weak as Yoongi’s, and you knew for a fact that your family was already wondering where you were. One of the cars would be missing, you’d be missing. 

“What?” Yoongi asks, watching you in horror at the sudden shift of mood. Your face twisting in panic as you start to breathe heavily.

“I can’t.” You say shortly, scooting back further from him. “I don’t know why I’m doing this.”

Yoongi picks up quickly on what you’re referring to. He knew this night had to come to an end though, and he knows for a fact that at least you got to experience him for who he truly is, and not the rabid criminal Namjoon seems to believe he is. 

“Probably because you know Namjoon is going to mail your head to the police?” He laughs, sighing in defeat.

That is, until you stand up and walk behind him. 

Instantly he feels the tight bind against his wrists loosen and now, he can look at the damage. His broken fingers aren’t twisted, and his wrists actually hurt more than they do. He turns to look at you as you stand there, struggling not to cry. 

Honestly, he’s a bit frozen in place before he tries to stand. His legs buckle from the lack of use and from your weight on them, but he manages to balance himself and slowly take a step toward you with a look of appreciation.

“Why did you do that?” He asks, trying to balance himself but feeling his legs give in instantly. He crumbles to the ground with a pained groan. Embarrassed by his nudity and lack of strength.

You didn’t run, nor did you hide after you untied him. What you did do though, is set him free from this situation. He can leave now, and if he needs to, he can take you with him. 

“Are you stupid?” He asks through his pain, standing again and internally forcing himself to walk. “Go on, run back to him.” He raises his voice. 

You shake your head.

“I’m dead either way.” You say with a shaking voice, feeling a pit in your stomach still bubble with arousal but the reality hit you far too late. 

“You saved my life and you’ve now given me a chance to fucking run. You think I’m going to let you die?” He says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

Technically, it should be normal for a person to react this way, but Yoongi is a killer too. It’s not like you expect anything more from him, nor from Namjoon at this point when he ultimately learns that you’re the one who did this.

“If you want me to kill you so bad, I’d be happy to do it so you don’t have to fucking suffer but–” Yoongi goes silent for a moment, contemplating the position that he’s about to put himself in. 

As if the situation wasn’t already bad enough, it couldn’t hurt much more than it already will. 

“You could come with me. My men will protect you for keeping me alive. You’d be untouchable.” 

You look at him, seemingly unsure at first. 

“He’s probably already out looking for me.” You say in a smaller voice than before. “He’d know it was you.” 

“No shit. Either you’re coming with me or not.” Yoongi deadpans, standing as still as he can so he doesn’t tumble over to the ground again. 

You shrug in defeat, nothing left to say. 

And then you’re getting into your car after the struggle and helping your enemy escape. He’s in the back seat, smiling up as he focuses his eyes outside. 

“If you drive me straight to him, you know he’d probably forgive you, right?”

You ignore him, finding more comfort in the fact that he’d kill you for this. 

“Just tell me where to go.”

~ 

#bts smut #yoongi smut #suga smut #min yoongi smut