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ddaenggtan · 4 years

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black irises in the sunshine | kth

anger is everything. other gods tease you for the short fuse, but it comes with the territory. people have called you stupid, have called you dumb, oafish, useless, incompetent, insolent, rude, arrogant. all of it. insults and mockery flung at you, but even your skin isn’t thick enough to deal with constant abuse. it’s the exact reason you keep going to the underground, knuckles bloody and bruised, fighting anyone that dared enter the cage. it’s the reason you go to the clubs, surround yourself with mortals and their writhing bodies. it’s there that you see him the first time, voice husky as it rolls through the room. it’s there you find someone who treats you differently than the rest. you just never expected him to be one of the muses. | monsters and gods pt 3 (masterlist)

pairing | taehyung x reader

genre/warnings | greek god au, calliope!taehyung, ares!reader, theres a lot of violence and it does get descriptive so be aware of that, none of the main characters other than ares get hurt and its not uncalled for or anything in a narrative sense, so just be aware of that; there are mentions of other idols, but if you can guess them you get a cookie because they are Vague; suuuuper bisexual Ares, Ares Can Step On Me, like I am SO gay for her it isn’t funny; explicit smut ft: cunnilingus, taeHUNG bc hes got MASSIVE SCHLONG, some body worship kind of and then just....regular worship? like? idk how to explain that? lots of praise and lots or orgasms

word count | 14k | cross posted to ao3

a/n | HOOOOOOO this has been sitting in my google docs for literal months waiting for an ending and i decided to try to get it out for tae's birthday bUT that didn't work because i have a Job and shit so YEET I GUESS HAPPY FUCKIN NEW YEAR??? LIKE??? YEEEEEEEEEEEEE this fic is very near to me because Ares is my sweet sad angry babie and i love her, and i love tae and i love suho and i love the muses and i just........lOVE this fic like i think this is currently my favorite of the mag series so!! i hope yall also enjoy it!!!! yall are welcome to send me messages about this even tho I'm terrible at replying to them in a timely manner!! thanks to everyone who helped me with this, and everyone who has expressed interest in it, and everyone who has ever read anything of mine, because you're genuinely the best people ever, and this is literally a gift to y'all because you deserve it.

Fuck, that was too hard .

The guy across from you goes flying, hitting the chain link wall of the cage harder than you intended. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, and even holding back, you've got a better buzz than even the best nectar can give. Your blood sings as the guy gets back up, and you almost wish you could remember his name, because he's put up a hell of a fight. For a mortal, anyway.

He charges at you again, and time slows as your vision tunnels. You can see the feint as he decides on it, how he hesitates in bringing his left up. You wait, watching him get closer and closer. You start to dart to your left, letting him think he's got you, before you side-step and dart to your right instead. His punch goes wide as you steady your balance and move. The top of your foot connects with his ribcage and the resulting crack of bone is lost amid the cheers and yells of the audience.

Your opponent steps back and you're proud of the way he doesn't show the pain. He doesn't wince, doesn't move to touch the spot you hit, just tightens his stance and clenches his jaw. It's only you that notices the hitch in his breath, the way he flinches with every inhale. Your eyes narrow at that, zeroing in on the rib. You'd meant to just crack it, had been holding back most of your strength to keep from hurting him too seriously, but as he steps forward, you can see the way he grits his teeth against the pain.

The fight leaves you immediately, like a bucket of cold water straight to the chest, and you drop your hands.

"Yield." He just stares at you, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Yield to me, and then go to the doctor."

"I'm not gonna yield," He says. He spits a mouthful of blood out onto the floor. "I'm not weak."

"Seriously, dude," You insist. "You're not gonna win this, and I don't want to hurt you more."

His scoff has you seeing red. "As if a princess like you could hurt me."

Your fist connects with his face before either of you registers that you've moved. There's a voice in the back of your head reminding you that he's just mortal, he can't take the same kind of beating you can, but it's lost in the haze of fury. The next thing you know, the ref is dragging you away and slamming you into the cage wall. Your opponent is being dragged out - you still don't know his name - and he looks beaten senseless. Victory rolls through you accompanied by a sick satisfaction at the way his blood looks decorating the canvas beneath your feet.

It lasts for less than an hour. It's always like this; the thrill of the fight, the burn of success, it's gone faster than you can blink. It's what drives you to keep fighting, to keep going to match after match, just to seek out the under-the-table stuff afterwards. It's never enough, not anymore. Back in the old days, they'd let you fight anything. Bears, bulls, lions, giants, anything they could get a noose around long enough to point it at a colosseum. That was a long time ago, though, before all the rights movements happened. You won't lie: you miss fighting beasts like that. The sheer power and strength they have, the survival instinct that makes them such fierce competitors, it's so much better than the rules and regulations of the mortal world now. Fights have gotten dull, rehearsed, more like a performance or a show than an actual fight. People make more money losing than they do winning and it's made the world boring.

You flex your hand as you open the door to your favorite bar. Something caught it at some point in the last fight, a cheekbone or a tooth, and it stings a little. Doesn't hurt, not exactly, not for a goddess, but it did enough that you feel it at all, which means it couldn't have been anything but torture for the guy on the other end. The bartender waves at you and gets your usual ready as you sit, and you idly wonder if Busted Rib Guy will be okay. It looked painful, for a human, and you'd tried to hold back, but…

Well, you weren't really responsible for what happened to condescending little fucks, were you?

You sip the bourbon, enjoying the burn as it goes down. The lights are dim, tonight. You're glad. You don't want to deal with people looking at you, men coming over to talk to you, trying to advise you on how to properly bandage your knuckles or how to avoid the bruise on your cheek next time. If you had wanted to avoid it, you would have. You'd intended it to hurt worse, honestly, but that first guy'd had a weaker right hook than you expected.

You look around, wondering if anyone here would provide a decent distraction for the night. There's a pretty brunette in the corner with carefully crafted braids, and as your eyes travel, you imagine what's hiding beneath the silk and leather. You're pulled from the thought by the sound of music, and you curse under your breath. You forgot that it's an open mic night and you'd meant to go to the bar across town instead. Irritation colors your vision; every open mic night is awful, full of lofty poets talking about their trauma and wannabe Taylor Swifts thinking they're on the same level as Sappho. Ah, now that was a girl with a set of pipes. You miss her, wonder what she would say to the butchering of whatever song you're about to hear.

The voice that comes isn't what you expect. It's smooth and deep. The world turns to velvet around you as the voice wanders from one speaker to another, creating a mesmerizing multi-dimensional effect despite the way the singer doesn't ever leave the stage. You turn, knuckles white around your bourbon glass; he's utterly magnetic, every eye in the room trained on him as he purrs into the vintage mic. Long fingers are wrapped around the scuffed metal, decorated with jewels that glitter in the dim light of the bar. You can smell the lingering cigarette smoke from the guy beside you and the Jäger from the girl two stools down and for once, you don't even care. He's captivating, voice travelling between speakers in the bar and coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.

Your eyes don't leave him, and you wonder if you can memorize the way the blond waves fall against his forehead if you stare long enough.

The red seeps away from you, slinking back into the corners of your mind, settling once more into a low thrum under your skin. It fades into the background of this man's voice, the charisma that rolls off him in waves as he pulls the mic in close just to push it to the side with a teasing smirk. It settles something in your chest that hasn't been calm since the fight in Athens so long ago.

The music fades out sooner than you'd like, and he gives a slight bow before wandering into the crowd. You do your best to follow him, but the gold of his hair disappears almost immediately, lost in the throng of people around the stage waiting to speak to him. You turn back around, downing the next bit of bourbon that Suho pours you.

"I know," He says with a grin. You cock a brow at him, not having said anything he could agree with. "He's good. That's what you were thinking, right? He's why we're so packed on open mics. Got the audio and lighting guy whipped, so he's got all these special effects, too. Drives people crazy.”

"He's alright," You mutter. You toss a few bills down on the bartop and step back. Suho gives you a courteous nod as you leave. The bouncer gives you a dirty look when he spots the lit cigarette between your lips, but he knows better than to try to tell you otherwise. You've taught him better.

You lean back against the brick wall of the alley and take a drag. The warm smoke fills your lungs and you close your eyes. It's a different kind of burn than you're used to, a distraction from the crawling sensation that drives you to fight. It's calmer, more controlled. Feels like the smoke from Hestia's fires. Feels like home.

"Never expected to see you here," A voice calls out. It's deep and startling in the darkness, but you don't jump. You just open your eyes, exhale, and look to where it came from.

The singer stands before you in the same undone white button up and black tee he performed in. He doesn't have a cig, doesn't seem to have much of any reason to be outside. He moves almost lazily, as if he doesn't even need to, just wants to, and when his gaze flicks up to meet yours, your vision fills just for a breath with every opponent you've ever faced lying at your feet.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" The words slip from your tongue before you can stop them. It's not his fault, the voice in your head says, he didn't mean it that way, but still, your blood is thrumming now that he's here and you want to know what he's talking about. Want to know why he thinks you wouldn't be here when there's attractive people and good bourbon and you've never seen this man before in your life. Want to know why he already seems to think you aren't civilized enough to be at a bar, why he spoke but all you heard was Zeus' voice in your memories.

"Exactly what I said. Should I be clearer?"

"Yeah, probably," you spit. Yet another person that assumes you're stupid, that you don't understand basic languages, as if you haven't been speaking them since the ancient times. As if you couldn't speak circles around him if you wanted. "Unless you want your teeth on the fucking ground."

"Good to know the stories are true." He tsks and you're filled with a strange sense of disappointment and fury, both at him and yourself. Your vision turns red at the edges and the cigarette between your fingers is crushed in your grip. He pays no mind to it, just saunters past with a lazy, swaying gait that draws your eyes to his hips and then down the long leather-clad legs. "See you around, Ares."

"That's not my fucking name," You yell after him. He doesn't respond when you shout your actual name, the one you chose, on your own, as a middle finger to the Olympians. "Get it right next time, dickwad."

He turns the corner of the alley and the streetlight catches his face just enough for you to see the smirk he wears. For once in your life, you're torn; you want to smash his face in, yes, because how dare this random guy speak to you like that when you could kill him with one finger to the right pressure point. You also find your skin's hotter than usual, stretched too thin over your bones, and you want him to run his hands over you until it feels right again.

Until it feels like it did when he was singing.

How did he know my title?

The thought comes unbidden, days later, with the desperate hit of a palm against your shoulder. You've got the woman in a headlock, patiently waiting for her to pass out completely so the fight can be called, and your mind is wandering.

How did the singer know who you are? You hadn't thought anything of it at the time, distracted by fury and frustration, but with time comes a special kind of clarity. You've never seen him before, not that you know anyway, yet he didn't hesitate to call you Ares. The only ones who know of your kind are your kind, but you haven't seen any of your siblings among mortals in a long time. You thought you knew the other gods and goddesses, but maybe not. It has been a while since you stepped foot in the golden city.

The woman in your grip goes slack and you release her. You're still lost in thought as the ref calls the match and leads you out of the makeshift ring. The cheers of the audience are background noise at this point, akin to static or the buzz of electricity, and you pay them no mind as you head to collect your winnings. You didn't even get any kind of buzz from success this time, too immersed in the way the singer walked and talked and looked. The image of his smirk is burned into your retinas.

"Yeah, you didn't hear? He just got out of the hospital. They had to keep him overnight because they thought he might puncture a lung. I heard that if it had been a little worse, they would've had to wire his jaw shut." You stop, fingers brushing over the stack of bills you don't even remember being handed. You look up, making eye contact with the guy whispering nearby. Your suspicions are confirmed when his friend smacks his arm and juts his chin in your direction before they both disappear into the crowd.

You shove your way outside, frustration creeping through you and coloring your vision. You manage to keep it contained long enough for you to make it to the alley behind the warehouse, but it explodes from you in a rush of thrown dumpsters and sheet metal.

Fuck , you never meant to hurt him like that. You told him, you fucking told him to yield, it isn't your fault he didn't listen. It's not your fault that he went and insulted you, acted like he was better than you just by virtue of being a dude, as if you weren't worshipped in the old days for the power you had and the blessings you could give. You'd held back, through all of it, you'd told him to yield, and he insulted you. It wasn't your fault.

You slide to the ground, running a shaking hand through your hair. It isn't your fault , you repeat. You close your eyes and take deep breaths, the way Hestia taught you, willing the fury to dissipate. It's like a fire in your veins, burning and bubbling your skin until you can't resist anymore. You take another breath. It isn't your fault. You tried. You offered an out. It isn't your fault. Fuck, what was his name?

With a growl that quickly morphs into a scream, you kick the dumpster once more before stalking off into the darkness. You need a fucking drink and you're gonna find a distraction in someone else if it's the last thing you do.

The club is packed when you get there; you're not usually a fan of clubs like this, too full of people who are too friendly, but they're perfect for nights like tonight. You don't even need to wait in line, just slip the bouncer a 50 as you pass, and the bartenders are quick to spot you. You're pretty notorious in the city for over-paying, which means you're knocking back bourbon before you have a chance to ask for it. There are people everywhere, pressed up against both sides of you while the bass thrums in your throat, and it takes you longer than you're proud of to realize why.

There's a band playing, apparently. They're not bad; the vocalist isn't anything like the singer from Suho's, but it doesn't make you want to tear your ears off, so you consider it a success.

You're dancing before you remember deciding to. Everything's a blur when you get the itch in your bones, the need to make someone bleed. To feel something that isn't rage or condescension. People are even closer here on the dance floor, suffocating in their proximity, but there's a woman grinding her ass into you, and it sparks the dying fire in your gut. The beat of the music drowns your own heart, and it's all flashing lights and heat and a body pressed against yours that is all too willing.

She follows when you go back to the bar for another drink, and giggles when you lick salt from her wrist before downing tequila. Her hands are wrapped in the leather of your jacket as she kisses you, your own resting lightly on her hips. She laughs against your lips and says something you don't hear before ordering another drink. Something makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

You take the brief reprieve to look around the club, searching for whatever it is that has you on alert. You find him on the upper level of the club, leaned over the balcony with a drink in hand. You can't make out his expression, exactly; it's too far away and too guarded. But you'd know him anywhere now. The singer knocks back whatever's in his glass, eyes never leaving yours. You don't know why he's here, if he comes here often or if the Fates are having a laugh at your expense, but you do know you want to make the most of it.

The girl is back, pressing a heated kiss to your lips and drawing your attention from him. You return it, nipping at her lips and getting a small gasp in return. You smirk and bite your way down her neck. She's breathy in your ear, hitched moans lost in the beat of the music, but you barely hear her as you suck bruises into the skin of her neck. He's still watching you. His drink is gone and he's gripping the bannister of the balcony, rings glinting in the light. You wonder if the cool metal could soothe the burn in your bones. You want to know if he can bring that calmness from before back, if he can soothe the frenzy in your mind with his hands the way he can with his voice. Just imagining it has you soaking through to your jeans.

The girl makes a particularly loud noise in your ear and you're brought out of your thoughts. As if he can sense it, the singer straightens. He gives you one last look before disappearing back into the crowd, and you wonder if you're imagining the disdain in it. You draw back from the girl's neck, about to tell her to find her friends when she slides her hands in your hair and tugs.

The burn in your blood is back, now, and you hope this girl is prepared for what awaits her.

"You're here early," Suho says when he spots you in the nearly empty bar the next night. He's not wrong, either; you skipped the fights tonight completely. There was no buzz last time, no relief, and you have no reason to believe there would be tonight. Not with the way the singer captivates your thoughts.

Besides, you have enough money leftover from the previous few to last a couple days.

"What, did you decide not to kick someone's ass before getting wasted?" Suho doesn't wither at the look you give him, just pours you a couple fingers of bourbon and slides the glass over. "Or did they just stop letting you in completely?"

"I might change my mind if you don't shut up," You tell him. There's no real heat behind it. You've known Suho for years now, been coming to his bar for so long it almost feels like home. You're almost friends at this point.

It helps that he knows when to bite his tongue so he doesn't get his teeth knocked out.

"Seriously though, I don't think I've ever seen you here this early. Especially not on mic nights." You're very careful in your lack of a reaction to his words. You'd seen the workers setting up for it when you came in, and even if you hadn't, you know when mic night is. You've spent enough time avoiding it.

"Does he sing every time?" You ask in lieu of an explanation. You don't look away from the amber liquid in your glass, letting the silence hang as the bartender does his best to follow your thought process.

"Taehyung? Most weeks, yeah. It's been a nice change from the usual drunken karaoke. He goes around to some of the other places in town, too. Apparently he just likes to sing."

"Taehyung," You repeat. The name rolls from your tongue a bit awkwardly. It's more than you expected, somehow, but you can't place exactly how . Just...more. "Is he always that good?"

"Oh, yeah. We have regulars now for mic night because of him. He's got a whole fan club and everything."

"Hm." You drain the rest of your bourbon and Suho refills it. He leaves you in peace then, serving some others that appear at the bar.

The place fills faster than you can blink. That's what it feels like, anyway. It's like one moment there's you and a handful of other people scattered around, and now you're being jostled between some dude a million feet tall that definitely doesn't look old enough to be here and a girl with her tits up to her throat and surrounded by a cloud of perfume so thick that it starts a migraine behind your eyes almost instantly. She flirts with Suho a little, likely trying to score free drinks, and you roll your eyes. She pouts at him when he gives her the total, batting eyelashes that go on for miles, and for once, you wish Suho would just give in and comp the drinks.

"I'll pay for them," You say. She was definitely saying something, maybe you should have been paying attention to it, but fuck , this migraine is only getting worse the longer she stands there. "I'll pay for your drinks."

"Oh, thanks," She says. Her smile is hesitant, and quickly turns apologetic as she takes in the boots and the ripped jeans and the leather jacket. "Um, I'm not...I don't, uh…"

"Do I look like I want to fuck you, sweetie?" She looks a little affronted and a laugh escapes you. You lean closer, letting your breath ghost over her cheek as you speak in her ear to be heard better. "If I wanted to fuck you senseless, you'd know it. And I can guarantee you it would be a hell of a lot better than the watered down rat piss this guy's giving you."

When you lean back, her face is flushed and she's stammering. You smirk and hand her the drinks she'd ordered.

"Too bad you’re not, you don’t, huh?" You tell her. The patronizing tone isn't lost on her, nor is your mockery of her earlier words, and she shuts her mouth with an audible click before strutting off. Suho glares at you as he pours more bourbon.

"Can you please try not to run off my patrons?" He mutters. "Some of us actually need money to live."

"Some of us would like decently timed refills and to not choke on perfume," You quip. "And better bourbon, for that matter." He hisses something about what he's giving you being top quality but you tune him out, throwing one leg over the stool Perfume Girl vacated. You'd like to keep just a little bit of personal space.

Across the bar, you catch a brief glimpse of the girl from the night before and you wince. Her neck is thoroughly bruised, and you catch a peek of bruises and scratches on her back as she shrugs her jacket on. You didn’t mean to be so rough with her, even if she had been into it; you’re usually pretty good about remembering that the mortals are just that - mortal - and as such have to be handled delicately. They’re so fragile, it feels like they could break with a strong wind. Guilt settles in your gut and turns the bourbon in your glass to cough syrup. You’ve half a mind to just leave before she sees you, are about to turn and do exactly that, but the speakers screech to life and the deafening feedback from the mic keeps you glued to your seat.

The crowd quiets even as the excitement ramps up, all talk silencing but for the occasional hushed whispers here and there. The first few notes of the song echo through the speakers, and a spotlight appears on him.

He looks different this time, his hair dyed a vibrant blue that matches the glinting jewels in his ears and on his hands. He's an absolute vision and you wonder how Aphrodite has allowed him to live so long when he's so beautiful. His voice hangs in the air and calms you, the same settling in your chest as last time, the same freedom from the burn in your veins. It's addictive.

The song doesn't last nearly as long as you want it to but the stillness inside you lingers long after he's done caressing the microphone. You place a few bills down for Suho and light up a cigarette as you head outside, ignoring the dirty looks from other patrons as you do. You're on a mission, the thrum of bloodlust returning with every second that passes, and you can't even be sure if he's still around or if he's wandered off already.

You stand in the alley for what feels like hours, turning at every sound and smoking cig after cig just so you have something to do. You've almost decided to say fuck it when footsteps sound from the back of the bar, coming closer to you.

His blue hair is visible even from the other end of the small alley, a giveaway similar to the light at the end of your cigarette and the smoke you blow into the air. There's no way he hasn't seen you, you think, you're making no effort to hide or be sneaky, and yet he's continuing forward as if he doesn't see you at all, eyes focused on a phone in his hand. You wait until he's just a few steps away before speaking.

"How do you know my title?" You ask him. He stops as if he'd always meant to and doesn't even bother to glance up at you or respond. The edges of your vision turn scarlet at the blatant disregard and you're speaking before you can even process the words. "I asked you a fucking question, pretty boy, you're gonna answer me. Unless you want that precious mouth bloodied up."

"And you wonder how I know who you are," He drawls, still not bothering to spare a glance at you. A scowl grows over your face at his sarcastic tone. "If you're going to hit me just get it over with. Otherwise, I have places to be."

He stands, waiting and expectant, but you don't move. He's humming, quiet and to himself like he doesn't even realize he's doing it, and the red seeps away from your mind until you're left clear-headed once more. You sigh, long and heavy, and crush your cigarette into your denim-covered thigh to put it out. It tickles.

"I'm not going to hit you," You tell him eventually. "I just wanna know how you know me. And how you do it."

He cocks a brow at that, finally looking up from the phone in his hand to level dark eyes on yours. "Do what? Sing?"

"No." You swallow around the sudden lump in your throat. The words are harder to find than you thought they'd be, lost in the depths of his gaze, in the clarity you're so unaccustomed to, in the way you feel like you can breathe for the first time in days. "I don't care how you sing, that's not important, it's the...fuck, you know what, never mind, it doesn't fucking matter." You push off the wall and step past him to head towards where the streetlight gleams off the bar windows.

"Tell me." The command has you stopping in your tracks, and you're again flooded with just wanting to know how. How he clears the haze, how he stops you, how he makes you feel real. You turn, hands stuffed into the back pockets of your jeans. "How I do what?"

It takes you several long breaths before you can answer, and you aren't even sure he can hear you over the sounds of people leaving the bar, and you find yourself disappearing into the crowd without waiting for a response. Your own words are reverberating in your skull, getting louder with each step you take, and you wish you could just turn it off .

"How you make me feel like a person again."

You avoid the bar for a few weeks, going hours away from your usual area to an unfamiliar hole in the wall just to make sure you don’t see him. You’re more deadly than usual in your fights, victories coming quicker, injuries piling up along with the guilt, but you can’t bring yourself to return. It’s unnerving, the way everything goes quiet around him, the way you can think, but the worst is the way you can feel. Everything’s calm and steady and blue, and it only makes it easier for the regret and the guilt and the anxiety to curl around your throat and squeeze until you can’t breathe, to clog in your throat while the laughter of your siblings echoes in your ears, and you...can’t. You can’t do that, you can’t let it win, you can’t let them win, they can’t know that you’re everything they think you are and worse.

You can’t let yourself drown in that, and yet you find yourself back at Suho’s, lost among the crowd while Taehyung’s voice surrounds you. The ache in your bones fades away, chased by the thrum of the fight that still lingers despite the hours that have passed since you felt your opponent’s femur break under your palm and their screams echoed in your ears. Everything is calm again, and the guilt nearly drowns you.

He hasn’t even finished singing before you’re outside, chest heaving as you gasp against the weight on your chest. You broke someone’s femur , and did you even really need to? The fight itself is a blur even now, snapshots playing through your mind like a montage. The way they’d darted at you first, how their foot felt connecting with the backs of your knees, the determination in their eyes when you went down, the jolt of shock as your hands wrapped around their leg, the dull throb of a barrage of hits against your waist as you pulled them down as well and bloodied their face, the blood-curdling scream as you snapped the bone like a pretzel stick.

Your breath comes faster in your lungs, forced out by the growing guilt that lodges there in its place. Images swirl in your mind, chased by a never-ending stream of thought and regret that you should be used to by now. Fuck, you didn’t need to, and you still did it; you lost control, you fucking hurt them, and for what? A couple hundred? Was it even worth it? Who knew when they’d be back into shape to fight, what if they needed the money? They weren’t even half-bad. They got you down, at least, shouldn’t you have gone easy on them? You don’t even remember their face, can’t remember what the announcer said their name was, words drowned out by the buzz under your skin.

Metal crumples under your grip and you spare a half-second to mourn Suho’s dumpster before you slam your knuckles against it. It tingles, not even real pain, and you don’t hesitate to repeat it. By the time the metal is disfigured completely, a distorted mess of paint and steel and garbage, you still aren’t in pain, but there’s a sheen of gold across your knuckles and you feel less like you’re drowning and more like you’re suffocating. The usual. You can handle that. You think.

You don’t even realize that you’ve slid down to the ground beside the dumpster until the back door of the bar opens and footsteps echo through the alley. You wish you knew how long you’ve been here, how long you’ve sat among empty bottles and stale beer and broken glass, but you can’t be sure. The brief reprieve brought by Taehyung’s voice is long gone, chased away by the guilt and rage that still sits heavy in your chest. You hope you’re not noticeable here, that whoever’s left will just pass by and leave you to piece yourself back together on your own.

Voices tell you that it isn’t likely, the deep baritone of one too familiar to ignore. The other is new, but you’re familiar with the tone, the inflection, the intent behind it. You've heard it before, in crowded clubs as a guy pushes too close to some girl who can barely stand, in a coffeeshop when a random customer can't take a fucking hint, at the local campus when some professor insists that there could be maybe one thing her student could do to pass. It makes everything in you curdle, the bourbon from earlier threatening to work its way back up; it screams predator , and you absolutely refuse to let anyone fucking talk to someone like that, like they have some right to whatever it is they want.

You refuse to let someone talk to him that way.

"Seriously, Kratos, didn't I tell you to leave me alone? Did Aphrodite not teach you your lesson last time you harassed someone?" Taehyung's voice brings a calm that's an unsettling match to the anger washing over you. You're used to the red at the corners of your vision, the tint to everything you see, but you aren ' t used to the way it all turns purple and focused and clear .

There's no haze this time, there's no abrupt shift of you moving before you know you've done it. You can feel the glass crunching under your boots with every step you take, can feel the way the air has a chill that creeps down into your lungs with every breath, can almost taste the apprehension that's rolling off of Taehyung despite his relaxed stance. The only thing that gives him away is the tense set of his jaw and the mix of relief and fear when his eyes land on you.

"I'm pretty sure he said no, Kratos." The god turns at your voice and you watch the realization wash over him as he realizes what - who - you are.

"Been a while since anyone's seen you, Ares." He scoffs a little, not moving from where he has Taehyung caged against the wall of the bar, one hand pressed firmly into the brick. He's entirely too close, and you have no doubt that the stench of him permeates the very oxygen around them.

"Been busy. Doesn't change the fact that the man said no. Take the loss, walk away." Kratos' eyes narrow at your words and he steps away, but only to move closer to you.

"Why do you care so much? You've never been one to care about any of us before." Kratos inches closer and the hyper-focus that Taehyung's voice causes starts to melt away with every twitch of your fingers. You've never liked Kratos, all brute strength with no respect for the challenge, no appreciation of the fight, too focused on sheer power and exhilaration. He is the worst of the worst of the worst of your kind, of all the war-focused gods. Every bit of yourself you hate is every piece that Kratos loves about himself.

"I care that you don't seem to be able to understand when someone doesn't want to be around you, you absolute piece of filth. Taehyung had a point though, I really thought the whole thing with Aphrodite would've taught you how to back off. Or should I pull the video out, I think I still have it saved for when I need a good laugh." Malice and fury twitch across the other god's face and you absolute revel in it. You can feel his anger prickling across you, like needles in your very pores, and you ache for it. It's been so long since you last had a good fight, a real challenge where you didn't need to hold back at all.

Too long since you fought a god like yourself.

"You're testing my patience, cousin," Kratos spits. It's a little generous to call the two of you cousins - you're several times removed, at best, and potentially closer than that with your family's warped history - but you let him have it. It might make him feel better. "I'm having a conversation, that's all. And if said conversation means that we end up back at my place, then, well, can anyone really blame me for what might happen to this pretty little m-"

Your fist connects with his jaw immediately and the red floods you for the few seconds it takes to register Taehyung calling your name. The calm struggles for a second, warring with the rage, but it wins out eventually. The singer's talking, but you can't make out any actual words. You're too focused on Kratos, the way he's righting and readying himself for a brawl. There's a fire in his eyes that matches the one in yours and everything in you feels alive for the first time in too long.

This fight is different than your usual ones. There's no blur, no warped sense of time that usually comes with the adrenaline. You're focused and controlled in a way you haven't had to be for centuries, careful and precise and deliberate with every swing and every kick. The red seeps back in slowly and every time you think you're about to lose it, you hear Taehyung, still pressed against the wall of the bar.

Kratos lunges at you for what has to be the tenth time, clearly trying his best to knock you to the ground - he succeeded, once; you let yourself get distracted, too caught up in thoughts, but it didn't last long - and you sidestep him just in time for him to ram into the ruined dumpster instead. He looks pissed when he turns back around and something in you sings at the sight. He makes for you again and you dodge again, only to be dragged back towards him by the grip he has on your jacket. Fuck, should've taken that off , whatever, he's too close.

Pain explodes in your side and you're fairly sure he's busted part of your rib, but you just slide your arms out of the sleeves and twist to plant your knee straight into his gut and then slam your heel down onto his much-less-safe toes, and then back up to knee him in the groin. It's nowhere near enough to take him out, but his nose is oozing golden ichor and he groans with every shift of his weight, and you've got him pinned against the wall with your forearm pressing hard into his windpipe.

"Now, you're gonna listen to me you steaming pile of dog shit," You hiss. "When someone tells you no, it's not a fucking negotiation. It means you fucking leave and find someone with loose enough morals or enough internalized self-hatred that they're willing to subject themselves to your absolutely pitiful fucking excuse of an existence for the thirty-two seconds it'll take for you to get off."

Kratos doesn't respond, just sneers and spits blood at you. It's a miracle you don't actually try to rip his head from his body, because the thought crosses your mind for a second too long. Instead, you just press harder against his windpipe and enjoy the choked gasp that it draws.

"You don't stalk people either, the way you did with 'Dite. Don't you know it's better to let them come to you sometimes?" You tsk, ignoring the way he claws uselessly at your arm. Gods may not need to breathe, that's a fact, but they feel pain, and there is no way this isn't absolutely excruciating for him when even you can feel the small bones in his neck cracking and breaking. "And if I hear even a whisper of you pulling shit like this again, then I'm gonna find you, you pigshit. And when I do, I won't hold back even the slightest, and do you know what comes after that?"

His eyes are full of fear now, and only grow wide with terror as you lean in close enough that he can feel your lips against his ear as you whisper.

"You are going to wish that you could die."

When you do release him, he disappears instantly, with a cloud of acrid grey-green smoke curling around your ichor-spattered boots. He's only been gone a second when you slump, the adrenaline fading as quick as Kratos had left. Your side is throbbing now, your knuckles are bruised and broken and gold, there's a pain in your leg that you aren't sure what's causing, your head is screaming even through the high of the fight, your face stings in the crisp-cool air. Every breath makes the pain worse so you stop breathing. The brick wall of the bar is rough against your palms, but it's the only thing around that can keep you upright, so you'll take it.

"Well," a voice drawls from your left. You'd jump if you had anything left in you, but every ounce of energy is gone, spent teaching Kratos what Aretha Franklin meant when she sang about respect - and really, there was another fantastic singer, you really should visit her sometime soon - so instead your head lolls to the side. You aren't sure what it is that jolts through you when your eyes land on Taehyung, fingers curled carefully around the collar of-

Your jacket. That's your leather jacket. You barely remembers shrugging out of it, but you're glad it's not on the ground, trampled and covered in the gold spatters that decorate the rest of your body.

"Well?" You echo, wincing at the pain it causes. You've definitely got a busted lip, that's for sure from the way it feels different and swollen, and you're pretty sure there's a head wound, too, because you don't remember there being a golden halo around Taehyung before the fight.

"Well," He repeats, slinging the jacket - your jacket - over a shoulder. "You should get that looked at." He starts walking, making his way to the entrance of the alleyway. He gets halfway there before he stops and turns and cocks a brow. "Are you coming, or do I get to keep this?" Your jacket waves a little, as if he's wiggling it, and it makes you feel like a stray dog being lured off with treats.

You're never going to tell anyone that it works.

Taehyung's place is as nondescript as the car he parks outside. It's a plain apartment building on the outside - looks like maybe it was a hotel back in the 1930s, based on the outdated carpeting in the lobby and the grate on the elevator he steps into. Even the hallway is plain and unassuming as he leads you to the end and uses an old, tarnished brass key on an older, more tarnished brass knob. You aren't sure what you expected, you can't even begin to guess what Taehyung is like outside of the dirty alley or the stage where he sings, can't fathom what kind of decor he could possibly have.

What you step into isn't anything you could have guessed. It looks like he has the entire rest of the floor to himself based on what you can see, but there's also a spiral staircase tucked into a corner, bookshelves built in under each step that are filled to the brim, and a fireman's pole in another corner, so there's at least one more level above this, but something tells you both the staircase and the pole continue past that. There's artwork everywhere, pieces you recognize and pieces you don't, several van Goghs and a couple from Matisse and you think in the corner you spot an actual fucking da Vinci sketch that's supposed to be somewhere in Europe. There's a gramophone beside a top-of-the-line sound system, an entire wall that's just a record collection, books upon books, framed bits of poetry - including an actual hand-written rupi kaur, a signed Maya Angelou print, and a signed cover of ain't i a woman by bell hooks that you would die to know how Taehyung got his hands on. It's a museum's wet dream and yet it retains a lived in atmosphere. There are mugs left on tables, blankets strewn about as if someone just got up from a nap, an easel propped up by a far window with what looks like an impressionist painting of the cityscape, books tossed down half-read with receipts and coupons and candy wrappers and everything but a bookmark tucked between the pages.

It feels like a home and it makes your heart flutter in your chest at the same time that something in your stomach shrivels up into itself.

Taehyung walks like he’s meant to be followed, so follow you do. You spy another man - older, you think, but it’s hard to tell, really - sprawled across a couch, blanket splayed across his lap as he watches some kind of dance show on a flatscreen hung above a warm and roaring fireplace, a couple of girls in what looks to be the kitchen, one sitting on the counter while the other stands between her legs and pretends not to notice the former stealing strawberries from her bowl as she taps at her tablet, and there are footsteps creaking above you, hidden behind walls even as Taehyung leads you up the staircase. They all look up when you pass, but only the man gives you a second glance; his eyes are a weight on your back that doesn’t leave until you’re upstairs and following Taehyung into a large, rather nice bathroom.

It’s vintage as well, but it’s spacious and well-kept, like the rest of the place. Taehyung pats the marble counter by the sink and you bite your tongue against the urge to tell him you aren’t a dog. You don’t move though, instead watching him as he lays your jacket across a brass bar on the wall and then digs around in a cabinet for a minute or two. When he straightens up, he’s got a somewhat dusty off-white box in his hands, and he frowns.

“Up,” He says. “I need to look at your ankle.”

You don’t move, but you can tell he doesn’t miss the twitch of your nose at the thought of being commanded like an animal. Like someone who can’t understand. Like-

He sighs.

“Please, will you sit on the counter, so I can look at your ankle?” You huff, but you do as he says.

He doesn’t speak as he works, completely silent except for the odd command - “Roll it for me...alright, now flex that...deep breath...stop fidgeting or I’ll only make it worse…” - and the occasional hum under his breath. It seems to be second nature, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and it endears you more than you’d like. His touch is gentle but firm as he lightly squeezes your ankle and wraps it, lifts your pant leg to rub some kind of cream into a somewhat worrisome golden bruise forming on your calf, darts under your shirt to quickly and painlessly set your ribs before wrapping those as well. He doesn’t say anything at all until he’s almost finished with the cuts on your hands, golden ichor long gone and wounds already on their way to healing thanks to some sort of mist he spritzes on them.

It only stings once, as he’s spraying something over some kind of cut on your thigh where Kratos ripped through the denim there without you noticing. You can’t stop the hiss as the pain hits, though you regret it when he glances up at you.

“Sorry,” He mumbles under his breath as he dabs lightly at it with his long fingers.

“It’s fine,” You tell him. “I’m used to it.” Your voice is rough, always, but softer than usual. You don’t know why. You can’t decide if you like it.

The entire time he works, you wait. For him to tell you it wasn’t necessary, that he can fight his own battles, that he’s not surprised a brute like yourself got into a fight, that you’re no more than what the rumours say you are. You’ve got a million different curses and insults ready to spit back at him when he finally speaks.

“Thank you,” is what comes. It shocks the words out of your mouth, and you actually look up from where you’ve been watching him methodically wipe gold away from a scrape on your forearm. His gaze is concentrated on the injury and his lips are pursed and you wish you could figure him out.

He must take your silence for the confusion it is, because he continues.

“I mean it,” He says. “I’m usually not someone that lets other people fight for me, but we both know that I couldn’t have taken Kratos. He’s too strong, and he was counting on that. Until you showed up.” You don’t respond. “Is there a reason you left before my set was done? Or why you were sitting in an alley beside what is possibly the most gnarled dumpster I’ve ever seen?”

You don’t answer him, instead focusing on the way his hands feel as they tilt your chin so he can look at the cuts and bruises and scrapes that decorate your face. You focus your gaze just past his shoulder, content to memorize the pattern of his gaudy vintage bathroom wallpaper, and he doesn't press for more. The distracted humming picks up again every time he stops talking, and eases the storm of guilt shame rage pain hurt grief loneliness in your chest.

"I fight," you eventually say. Your voice is too loud in the quiet of the bathroom, shatters the silence like a sledgehammer, and you hate the way it trembles. Still, Taehyung doesn't look away from where he's carefully wiping gold from your skin, just cocks a brow, and it's as if a dam breaks in your throat. "Like, real fights. Actual competition, with rules and shit, and...sometimes the bad ones, because they tend to fight differently, it's a different kind of fight, y'know, and it's never really fair, because I'm...I'm me, but I hold back, just for fun, y'know, and it's, uh. It's alright usually, I go in, do my thing, I win, I go drink, and it all gets, I dunno, easier, maybe, for a while, like I can think right, but, um.”

You hesitate for a split second and force yourself to focus on the way the alcohol-soaked cotton tickles the cut on your head.

“Sometimes it's not...sometimes I can't control it as well, the anger, and I kind of just lose it on people, and a while ago this guy, he almost needed his jaw wired shut, but he was kind of a prick anyway, I guess, so whatever, but, uh, today, I...there was this girl and she was doing really well, actually, y'know, managed to get me down to the mat, which is rare and pretty impressive, and I'm pretty proud of her for it now, but then, I just. I just kinda lost it, like, I just kept swinging, I couldn't stop, and then I just...I broke her leg, for no real reason, just because I wanted her to hurt, and I don't...I'm not sure why I even did it, because I'd already won, right, like what was the point of doing any more, it wasn't even helping at that point, y'know, it's not like the buzz kept up any longer because I broke this kid's leg, and I love the fights, they help clear my head for a second, but I never wanted to actually-"

You words stop short, like there are too many of them to say in too short a time, and it's then you realize Taehyung's hands are in his lap and he's looking at you fully. His expression isn't neutral anymore, it's not the carefully crafted mask of a performer, it's real and open and genuine and all you see there is pain . For you. Pain and understanding and compassion you never expected to find anywhere but the deepest corners of your soul. Looking at him looking at you like that makes you feel like you can breathe again.

"You never wanted to hurt anyone." His voice is rough, like maybe there's emotion clogging his throat as well, and you aren't sure what that does to you, but something in you jumps at the thought.

Tears mar your vision as you nod and you curse under your breath before wiping them away. He catches your quivering hand in his and just holds it for a second. His eyes don't leave yours and there are a thousand things you expect him to say but what he says is:

"I believe you."

And that...it's more than you can take, and you break, right there on his bathroom counter, sobbing into his chest while he just rubs your back and hums and you remember the face of every person you've ever hurt and the look in their eyes as you left some of them for dead.

You wake up the next morning curled up on the most comfortable chaise lounge in human history, sitting up and shoving the blanket off of you in a rush before you remember where you are, why you're there. A glance around tells you that you aren't alone; there's two guys bent over a table that you think might also be a tablet, conversing quietly and pointing every so often at whatever they're looking at, a girl balanced along the edge of the staircase holding a lyre - which, wow, you haven't seen a lyre in that good condition in a while - and strumming lightly along it before she frowns and shakes her head and restarts whatever melody she's playing, and the same guy sprawled over the couch with a blanket strewn haphazardly over him while he watches a different dance video on the flatscreen. He's the closest and you don't really want to talk to any of these people but you think you might have to because you aren't really sure how Taehyung got you here last night but you know it was quite a drive. You'd just mist over to the bar if you really wanted to, but your ribs hurt like a bitch still thanks to that fucker Kratos. Anything as intense as misting is out of the question for the time being.

The man on the chaise spares you a glance that feels longer than it should, full of a judgement you have no doubt you deserve and yet somehow fires your anger anyway.

He rolls his eyes before you even say anything and waves a hand towards the kitchen. You snap your mouth closed and shoot him an irritated look, but you storm in that direction anyway. Healing is exhausting, and you want nothing more than some meat to tear into and a cold beer.

When you get into the kitchen, however, Taehyung is standing there already, as if he’s been expecting you any minute. There’s a plate in front of him, full of food you barely recognize, and he slides it towards you.

“Eat,” He says. You grit your teeth, unmoving, and he sighs again. “Please sit, and eat. You need the strength to heal properly.”

You resist for a split second, but there’s a softness to him now. Something you can’t exactly put your finger on, but that you know is different , somehow, and it changes things. It makes you want to listen, to do as he asks, because he is asking . He’s not telling, he’s treating you like an animal.

It’s a request, not a demand, and that makes all the difference.

Taehyung is quiet while you eat. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t watch to make sure you’re doing it, but you have no doubt he’s keeping an eye on you. It’s quiet, but not unbearably so; the air is broken by the sounds of the lyre and the television, as well as the soft chattering of the men at the table. It makes it comfortable, makes it soft in a way you’re unaccustomed to being, like the way people talk about lazy Sunday mornings or that voice they get when they see a cute animal.

It feels like home should be, instead of what yours is.

“So why’s Pretty Boy giving me the death glare?” You eventually ask past a mouthful of food. Taehyung barely looks up, just glancing past you to the guy laying on the couch. You can feel his eyes boring into your spine, but it’s nothing new.

“Taemin’s just protective,” Taehyung says softly. “Especially considering the stories.”

“The ones about me, you mean.”

A myriad of emotions passes through his eyes when he nods, and you wish you could more easily decipher them. Maybe in time, you will.

Maybe.

“Those, yes,” He says softly. “But he’ll learn.” He doesn’t say it, but nonetheless, you hear the words as clear as day. Just like I did.

Someone hums behind you and you glance over to see a woman - the strawberry thief - making her way into the kitchen. She gives Taehyung a look you don’t care enough to figure out, and they have an entire conversation in the span of five minutes. Something about it irks you, and it only gets worse when they start moving around each other, Taehyung handing her things without her asking.

It’s ridiculous, and you know it, but the air gets heavy in your lungs and your head starts to swim and suddenly you’re suffocating. It’s too much, there’s too much here, and you can’t take it anymore.

The force with which you shove away the counter would have slammed it into the wall were it not already attached. There are slight cracks in the granite tops, though, and there’s just enough clarity as Taehyung calls your name for you to feel guilty about it. It’s not enough to stop you though; you have to get out, you need to get out, before you do something worse, and the cracks in the granite are proof of that.

You’re out the door in an instant, your form coalescing painfully back into solid matter as you reach the hallway. Your ribs ache, screaming with the effort of trying to mist away from this place, this home , and you lean against the wall in the hope that it will help steady you.

The door opens behind you, the creak of the old hinges deafening in the silence of the hall. There’s a commotion behind it, voices overlapping each other and reverberating in your skull until they’re a twisted mockery of your siblings.

You stumble down the hall, one hand clutching your ribs to keep them as still as possible despite your movement. It’s not lost on you that there are footsteps following you, but you can’t focus on them now. You’re not moving fast, and you need to be, you should be running , but you can’t. Your vision is already clouding slightly at the edges, the sudden spike of adrenaline waning now that you’re out of the apartment.

Someone says your name and you swing.

It’s instinct, the way your fist flies through the air; you can’t control it, not this, not when the red is all you can see even as it seeps away and turns lilac. It doesn’t matter anyway. You don’t make contact with anything but the wall, plaster crumbling around your fist and onto the carpeted floor.

“That was rude,” Taehyung says softly. He doesn’t sound mad, though he should, considering you almost decked him straight in the nose. “I’ll take you back.”

He drapes your jacket over your arm and walks away, toward emergency stairs tucked into the corner instead of the elevator, and you follow. He hums as he goes, and he lets you lead the way down the stairs, keeping pace with your quick steps until both of you step out a side door into an alleyway.

Out of habit, more than anything, you light a cigarette and put it between your lips. You don’t miss the disgusted scrunch of Taehyung’s nose, but you do ignore it. The smoke is familiar in lungs, comforting, and he doesn’t understand it, won’t ever understand it, but he doesn’t have to.

“Sorry, Tae,” You say after a few minutes of silence. Taehyung shrugs one shoulder and moves to lean beside you against the stone of the building.

“Are you okay now?” You nod, taking a deep breath, remembering how Hestia had taught you, so long ago, how her hand felt against your chest, the warmth and love it held. “Then you’re forgiven. And you can call me Calliope, if you want.”

You’re both quiet after that. He doesn’t make fun of you, he doesn’t judge you, he just silently drives you back to Suho’s bar, which is when you remember that he doesn’t know where you live. You’re fine with it; you don’t want to see him in your run down hovel. It’s not much, especially compared to his own apartment, but that makes sense, too.

What could ever live up to the home of a Muse? Not even a muse, really. The Muse. The Head of the Nine Muses, the one called on most often by those in need, the one that everyone knew, the one that Hephaestus just put statues of in the gardens of Olympus, according to the rumors that Apollo sent you.

The calm that he brings lasts until you get back to your apartment, nearly ten full minutes after you disappear into the alley beside Suho’s bar. It’s the longest the calm has ever lasted, and the view of the city tinted lavender is one you think you love.

If you can love.

Things get clearer, somehow. The weight on your shoulders lessens, makes you feel less like Atlas and more like you, how you were all those years ago in the now-ancient days when things made sense. When people fought for honor and glory and justice more than they fought for oil and death and greed.

It could be because open mic nights are frequent around the city, and you’re able to figure out his schedule pretty well. You don’t go every night that he sings, just when it gets to be too much, when the scarlet haze starts to bleed into your irises like a flag in front of a bull. It helps, for a while, lets you settle long enough to pull the pieces of you back into a shape that vaguely resembles yourself.

It could be because the fights happen every night, and Taehyung is no stranger to where to look to find them. He watches every one that he can, when he isn’t singing, and his presence anchors you. Focuses you, so that you can pull your punches just enough, so that there’s less hurting and more fighting. It doesn’t work every time, you still lose yourself in the rage and do more damage than you ever mean to, but it helps enough. And when it doesn’t, he’s there, to slide a hand across your shoulders in that exact same way that Hestia used to, that Apollo might if you let him close enough to know you’re alive, that Artemis would , were she anywhere but where she is.

It’s a strange feeling. You’re not used to companionship, you don’t know how to have friends. You still say the wrong things and do the wrong things and he still speaks to you like he expects to be listened to, but you both are learning. You apologize more often, and he corrects himself quicker. It’s a slow, fragile thing, this friendship, but it’s there.

Until the night when it’s not.

You aren’t sure how it happens. It’s been weeks since you last saw Taehyung; he mentioned some project he was working on, something or another that would have most of his attention along with that of several of the other Muses. You had brushed it off when he said it, some snide remark about how you don’t need him there to win.

You would take it back if you could.

Because you were right, of course, you don’t need him there to win; you can do that on your own. And your control has gotten better, stronger, over the last few months, but complacency is what always leads to disaster.

The guy deserved it, is what you tell yourself as you’re pulled out of the ring. He was a piece of shit anyway, you remind yourself as you call Apollo with shaking hands. He didn’t deserve your mercy, you tell the golden gold after you’ve begged him to help save the man’s life. Artemis would have done the same, you insist to him, long after he’s hung up the phone and left to follow the ambulance to the hospital.

You don’t go to Suho’s. You can’t bear it, not when he might be there, not when he would read it on your face in a heartbeat. You don’t want to watch the disappointment crumble into something more familiar, something worse, you can’t watch him look at you with the knowledge that your siblings are right, that they’ve always been right, that you’re nothing better than a crazed animal.

The club is packed full when you get there. The bartender starts to pour you a drink and you just take the bottle, leaving a too-thick wad of bills in return. The bourbon tickles as it goes down but it warms your stomach and distracts you from the haze in your mind, the repetitive beat of they were right they were right they were right they were-

“Whoops, sorry,” someone says, a second before they knock into your shoulder. You’ve been around long enough to know a fake fall, and you scowl as you glance towards them.

He’s cute. Taller than you, with skin that would hide the marks you so love to create, and hair that looks like it would be soft in your hands. His clothes fit well, and they look like they were chosen for comfort over style despite the way he walks like a model in them, which you always find attractive.

The smile that slips onto your face is familiar, as is the way you bring your hand up to rest on his hip in an effort to steady him.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” You tell him, not being subtle in the way you eye him. He looks soft; you love them soft. “You headed to get a drink?”

“I might be,” He says teasingly, a coy grin forming on his lips.

“I’ve got something better, if you’re interested.”

His eyes roam along your body, his breath drawing somewhat quicker when he notices the scrapes on your knuckles. “I might be.”

It takes five minutes to get him to a corner quiet enough to talk. Less than three to get your lips on his. One and a half to start sucking a mark into his neck that makes him moan so pretty you can’t help but want to hear it again.

One of your hands is up his shirt, playing with the pebbled buds and the metal pierced through them, while the other teasingly massages the skin of his hip when he’s torn away from you roughly.

“What the fuck?” Your voice growls as you look up. The guy is standing there, looking for all the world like he’s ready to run, but he isn’t watching you.

No, his eyes are on a familiar sight; Taehyung, his hair now a pretty lavender that makes you think of a home you don’t have, even as he doesn’t look at you.

“Taken,” He growls, releasing the collar of the guy you had every intent to make cry with pleasure. The guy scurries off before you can stop him, though, and you don’t bother to hide your disdain.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You demand, already lighting a cigarette as you head outside. Taehyung follows, pulling it from between your lips and crushing it in his hands before you have the chance to get your lighter out.

“Me? You looked like you were about to eat him .” He follows you all the way to the street outside and down the sidewalk, pulling each cigarette out of your hands before you can light it. He waits until you’re a decent distance from the crowd outside the club before he stops you, one hand lightly encircling your wrist.

Your boots scuff against the ground as you stop, not turning to look at him. You’re too afraid to, too worried he’ll see it all on your face and just know that you’ve fucked up, maybe beyond repair.

“Apollo called me,” is what he says instead. “Said I might want to find you tonight.”

You should’ve known. That little fuck, of course he would rat you out.

“I didn’t-”

The words choke in your throat. You want to say you don’t need him. You don’t need him to come running like you’re some scared little girl who can’t control her strength, you don’t need him to piece you back together because you aren’t broken, you don’t need him because you don’t need anyone, you never have.

“I know you didn’t,” Taehyung says quietly. “I know he deserved it, I know what he did, and I know you didn’t mean to.”

Something inside of you breaks and you find yourself shaking.

“He hurt her , Tae, I heard it, I heard her telling her friend about it on the phone, I saw her crying, I saw her clothes, okay, he-”

“I know,” Taehyung says, pulling you into a loose hug. “I know you did, it’s okay. He’s going to be okay. He’s not gonna escape his punishment from that, you didn’t send anyone to Hades today. It’s okay.”

The cloud struggles, for what feels like hours. Guilt settles like lead in your stomach, and you wish you weren’t so used to the feeling. The rage returns every time you remember what that girl looked like, what she sounded like on the phone, how you felt when you realized it was your competitor who had done that to her.

There’s no honor in that. There’s no justice, no glory, in beating an opponent who was never aware they were in the ring, and it makes your blood boil all over again. Taehyung’s voice soothes you, slightly, makes the edges of your vision turn indigo, but it isn’t enough.

It’s never enough.

“I have to go,” You say, pulling yourself away from him. “I need- I have to find-”

“A distraction,” He finishes for you, too aware that you can’t find the words you need. “Some mortal that you can bruise and break and bang until you feel less like a monster?”

That’s exactly what you want to do, what you had been about to do with that guy at the club, and it’s only Taehyung’s voice calling your name in that soft, sweet way of his that makes you wonder if that’s not a good plan.

“I’ll be a distraction, if you need one.” You whip your head around, staring at him, but he doesn’t flinch. “I’m sturdier than the mortals, I can take more. Let me be your distraction.”

“I…” You hesitate. You don’t know why. You shouldn’t even be entertaining this idea, it’s not a good one, but then...when have any of your ideas been good? “I can’t fuck in a house with eight other people.”

“You have an apartment,” He says easily. “Let’s go there.”

It’s a bad idea. You don’t do that, you don’t fuck people at your apartment, you don’t have people in your apartment, it’s your space. It’s a bad idea, it can only end in disaster.

“Okay.”

Taehyung’s lips are soft against yours, yielding and pliant just the way you’re used to. His hands are big and warm against your ass, even through your jeans, and the feeling gives you the courage to slide your own under the ridiculously patterned button-down he’s wearing.

He lets you lead the way through the door, kicking it closed behind you with slightly too much force. Your apartment is small, a studio with a bed tucked in the corner for the rare times that you need it.

You push Taehyung onto it and slide yourself onto his lap, already grinding down onto the hard length you can feel there. He's not quite as enthusiastic, but his fingers are like steel against you, pulling you down with every rut of your hips.

This, you can do. This, you're familiar with.

You push on his shoulders, doing your best to get him on his back so you can have better access to the clasp of his jeans, but he resists. You try again, firmer, using a harsh suck against his skin as a distraction, but he still doesn't go.

Frustrated, you pull back.

"Not like this," He says. His voice clears some of the fog, and you frown.

"Do you want to be on top, then? Because I don't mind, I just need it," You tell him. He sighs a little, but he flips the two of you over so he's kneeling between your open legs and your back is cushioned against the mattress.

"How long has it been since you spent the night with someone who knows who you are?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he sits back on his knees.

You shift, uncomfortable. "A while. Why does that matter? Just fuck me."

"No," Taehyung says, voice gentle but firm. You cock a brow at him and move to get out from under him, but he stills you with a hand on your thigh.

"You are a goddess," He tells you, trailing his hands down so he can undo the laces on your steel-toe boots and slide them off. "You have held Victory in your palms and set her free."

His palms burn through the denim on your thighs, but you welcome it as he slides your jacket over your shoulders to the bed beneath.

"You are the winner of wars. You are the one who grants battlefield wishes. You are the dead's escort to Hades." He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek and then down your throat.

He pulls back as he gets to your collarbone, eyes blown wide with unfamiliar desire, and it makes your breath catch in your throat.

"You," Taehyung tells you, with desire in his eyes and belief in his voice, "Deserve to be treated like the goddess that you are, with the respect you have earned, and the care you deserve."

As often as you fuck people, it's been a very long time since anyone wanted to fuck you for any reason beyond your appearance and the personality you show them. But this? This look in the muse's eyes as his hands settle on your knees as he waits?

Taehyung wants to fuck you because you're you. Not despite it, not because he doesn't know . He has seen you at your worst and yet he keeps coming back, keeps showing up as you fall apart. Each time he stays, hands you a basket so you can pick the pieces of yourself up off the ground, holds the tape so you can mash it back together, and is ready to help steady you when you start to crumble again.

He's here for you , to treat you in a way no one has ever treated you before. He's your friend.

He cares.

You nod, however tentatively, and his lips are on yours in an instant. They're firmer now, less pliable and more controlling, but you don't mind. Not this time.

Not with Taehyung.

His hands don't hesitate as he strips you both of your clothes, but you can feel it each time he checks to make sure you're okay. The way that he watches your expression, the tense of your muscles under him, the cadence of your gasps for air between kisses, he reads all of it as clear as if it's a book in front of him. He slows down before you can stop him, his lips drawing back from the kisses he draws across your thighs, and he speeds up as your thoughts start to drift, swiping his tongue and two fingers through your folds to tease and bring your attention back to him.

His fingers bury themselves in your heat, crooking slightly to brush against that soft part of you that makes the world spin, and it's all too intense. His lips are hardly even touching your skin, just pressing gentle kisses against the skin of your thigh, a gentle complement to the way he glides his fingers in and out of you, slow and steady and delicious, but it's absolutely intoxicating.

He's talkative, too; he gives you constant praise. He tells you how well you take his fingers, how good you look with his fingers inside you, how absolutely fantastic you taste on his tongue, how he'd live between your thighs if he could.

It's too much, and you can't be sure why, not when your orgasm is approaching quicker than it ever has, not when your walls clench around him and you soak your sheets, not when he's cleaning your cum off his fingers with his tongue.

"Good," He purrs. "Now you're all warmed up."

His mouth hits your heat without hesitation or warning, before the aftershocks are even finished, and your hips buck upwards. His arms slide underneath your thighs only to grip them and bring them back down. You can't move much in his grip except to grind your pussy against his mouth, which he seems to enjoy, if the muffled grunts that escape him are any indication.

He doesn't stop until his tongue is buried inside you with one finger drawing lazy circles on your clit and you're cumming again, hands gripping the soft strands of his hair so tight that you would be afraid of pulling it out if you could focus on anything besides the feel of him against you.

He lets you ride the aftershock, this time. Waits until your pants die down slightly, until you're back in your mind.

"Good?" He asks you. His voice is deeper, rumbles instead of slides, but it breaks through the post-orgasm haze long enough for you to nod. “More?”

“More,” you agree, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and pulling him into a heated kiss. You haven’t been this clear-headed in a while. Every sensation is clear and crisp, every sound heightened, everything is simultaneously more while also being exactly what it’s always supposed to have been.

Taehyung’s cock is everything you could have expected from a muse; thick, long, beautiful, and it fills you in a way that’s indescribable as he slides inside. He groans at the feeling, deep and throaty and beautiful, and begins his thrusts nearly immediately.

It’s as slow as he was with his fingers; steady and forceful, but unhurried. As if he wants to take his time. As if he wants to savor it. Savor you .

“Do you have any idea how amazing you are?” He mutters, almost as an afterthought. “What you look like right now, what you look like when you’re fighting, when you’ve won and you’re triumphant? It’s fucking addictive, seeing that confidence in you.”

“Shit, Tae, don’t stop-”

“It’s so fucking intoxicating,” He groans, pace quickening. Your arms wrap around him more fully, nails like claws down his back as you arch your back to get him deeper. “You get this look in your eyes, like you can do anything you fucking want to, and it’s so fucking brilliant, because you can , you can do anything and everything you ever fucking want to do, and no one can stop you.”

A whine you’ll never admit to escapes your throat, and Taehyung drives his cock further into you.

“Let go, my sweet,” Taehyung purrs in your ear. “Let yourself relax, just this once. For me.”

His hand touches your clit and it’s so much, too much , you’re feeling everything so intensely that it takes a solid minute to realize you’re coming down from an orgasm. Taehyung has stilled inside you, unmoving but groaning as you flutter around him, and you push weakly at his shoulder.

He slides himself out of you, looking entirely too proud of wet spot underneath you and glistening against his lower stomach. You wobble your way up to rest your elbows underneath you, and it’s like he can sense your words before they come.

“No,” He says simply. “I don’t you to get me off with your mouth.”

“A hand then? I don’t want you to leave unsatisfied.”

A frown pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he leans down just enough that your lips are almost touching, a not-there kiss that you can only wish for.

“In what world is fucking you to the point of Elysium unsatisfying?”

The crowd around you is deafening; some of them are cheering for you, but the majority are rooting for your downfall. Such is the life of a challenging the champion, you suppose.

You don’t know how Taehyung found this place; maybe Artemis had heard rumors, or maybe he searched for it himself. You can’t bring yourself to care, not when you’ve got someone worth fighting on the other side of the arena.

The sand crunches beneath your feet. It’s hot, hotter than it should be since you’re still wearing your signature jeans and boots - without the jacket this time. You learned from that mistake.

Your vision tints pink as you size up your opponent; he’s massive, not one to be easily defeated, and you relish the challenge. It’s been so long since you’ve fought a giant. Excitement thrums under your veins as he turns to you. He scoffs.

If you had a little less control, you might be flying across the arena already. He clearly has no idea who’s standing across from him. Probably thinks you’re some demigod, come to challenge him for the fleece he isn’t supposed to have.

He’ll learn.

Something moves in the distance. It should blend in, considering how dark it is, but instead it draws your eye, and you don’t even question why. You would recognize him anywhere, have recognized him everywhere, and his presence calms you. Makes you remember a few nights ago, falling into bed in a hotel in Rome because the burn was to much and you needed him to help you release it.

“Try not to be too quick, princess,” The giant across from you huffs. You cock a brow and send a look to your muse, who just rolls his eyes, despite the smile playing across his face.

Violet rings your vision as you ready your stance. The announcer yells something that’s lost over the noise of the crowd. Taehyung leans forward, elbows on his knees, excitement and pride in his eyes.

The giant swings.

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topsytervy · 4 years

Text

Little Walks Down Memory Lane

JJ Maybank x reader

Blurb: While going to pick up your sister from a sleepover, you and JJ think back on some of your favorite moments of him and your family.

Warnings: mention of abuse, i really dont know what else. I'm new at this.

Word Count: 3.2k

*quick note in case you dont know:

Y/L/N ~ Your Last Name

Y/M/N ~ Your Moms Name

and I'm putting this one because I truly can't remember if I put it but just in case

Y/D/N ~ Your Dads Name

The only person I assigned a name to was your sister.*

Italics are flashbacks.

First post on this account. This is totally all over the place I'm not going to lie but hey maybe posting stuff like this will help me improve my writing. Also, theres bound to be at least some spelling mistakes, don't mind them.

Okay. I hope you enjoy :)

**********

"Hey JJ," you greeted, opening the door as your boyfriend stumbled in.

You winced as you got a look at his black eye and busted lip before linking your arm around his and leading him to the kitchen.

You grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and handed it to him before wetting a paper towel and lightly dabbing his lip.

"So, Rafe or…" you railed off, not really wanting to mention his father.

"Yeah. Rafe." He confirmed as he held the ice pack to his eye.

Rafe and his minions never gave you trouble, possibly because the one time they did your father overheard and was not a happy camper. The look on their faces when you showed up to midsummers later that night was priceless as your father made a comment to the Cameron boy about how nicely his oldest daughter cleaned up for someone who lived on the cut.

However, they loved to mess with Pope, John B, and JJ. You and Kiara often being told to keep the pogue boys in check or it would get ugly, only for the pair of you to tell Kelce, Rafe and Topper to fuck off.

Despite the good amount of money your parents made, you guys lived on the cut. Your parents wanted you and your younger sister to be humble and compassionate, unlike some kids who lived on figure 8. They made sure you and your sister knew that they would not be there to bail either of you out of trouble, unlike some other kook parents.

Although, Sierra was eleven, so she wasn't really getting into trouble besides eavesdropping on your conversations.

"Hold that there," you told him, placing his other hand on the paper towel.

You pulled down a box of mac and cheese and put on some water to boil.

"You missed out on the kegger at the boneyard," JJ commented.

You turned to face him before leaning against the counter.

"Oh, really?" You raised an eyebrow, a smile softly crossing your lips

JJ nodded.

"Oh yeah. I practically killed Rafe.”

You rolled your eyes at him before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“You missed,” The blonde stated, a smirk settling on his lips.

“Did I now?” You asked, feigning confusion.

JJ put the ice pack and paper towel down before wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Yeah, this is the target.” He informed you, taking one of his arms away from your waist and motioning to his lips.

He started leaning in when the landline began to ring, causing him to groan as you reached around him to grab the handset.

JJ pouted as you held up a finger to the blonde and answered the phone

"Hello." You said into the receiver as JJ pressed light kisses to your shoulder.

You giggled lightly at the action.

"Can you come pick me up? I don’t want to be here anymore." Your sister’s voice came through the phone in a hushed tone.

"Sierra, I can't drive and I don't feel like listening to you complain while walking home." You told her.

You looked at JJ, who had stopped kissing your shoulder and had a questioning look on his face.

"She's at a sleepover and she’s fed up with it," You whispered to him as you pulled the phone away from your mouth.

"Your mom's car is here, right?" He asked.

You nodded.

"And lucky for you a certain dashing blonde who is standing in your kitchen can drive." He grinned.

"Wait, young Leonardo DiCaprio is in my kitchen?" You joked, looking around.

JJ shot you a look before you pecked his lips and sighed.

"Okay. Be outside in 10 minutes." You told Sierra.

"Thanks." She said before hanging up.

You turned off the stove before you grabbed your mom's car keys and tossed them to the boy who caught them with ease.

You went barefoot and led the way to your moms car, climbing into the passenger seat as JJ slid into the driver side.

"You sure you're good to drive?" You asked, remembering that he was at a kegger and it was JJ.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” He stated, putting the key into the ignition.

That was true. JJ never wanted to put you (or your sister) in danger. He couldn't even remember how many times he saw Barry or Rafe approach him and he immediately asked you to go get him a beverage or snack. Hell, he even sent you on a wild goose chase once when an interaction with Rafe was taking longer than usual.

He'd give his life in a heartbeat if it meant you lived even a second longer.

You were the same when it came down to JJ. You wanted what was best for him and that usually meant keeping him out of trouble, which proved to be easier said than done most of the time. JJ was, as your mom liked to say, a firecracker. JJ usually acted on impulse, either not thinking of the consequences/outcome or just not caring. You were always concerned when you saw him, even if you didn't see physical marks or injuries on him. He always joked to hide his emotional pain and played it off like it was nothing.

JJ grabbed your hand before reversing out of the driveway, causing you to smile lightly. You leaned your head back against the headrest, letting the smell of the beach take you down memory lane.

***

You could practically see the smile on his face. Surfing made him feel free. When he came to shore, he flashed you a grin.

"Hey, Y/L/ N." He greeted you when he got close enough, holding up his hand.

"Hey to you too, Maybank," You replied, smacking his hand with your own.

He looked down at Sierra.

"And who's this cutie pie?" He asked, a playfulness in his voice.

She giggled a little.

"JJ, this is my little sister Sierra. Sierra, this is my friend JJ." You introduced them.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet an adorable girls’ more adorable sister." He smiled at Sierra.

Sierra, who was nine at the time, just blushed.

"Have you ever surfed before?" He asked the younger girl.

She shook her head.

"You want to?"

"Like in Lilo and Stitch?" Sierra grinned, excitement on her face.

"Exactly like Lilo and Stitch." JJ said.

Sierra looked at you, hope in her eyes.

"I don't know, Sie," you grimaced as you thought of all the possible outcomes, most of them being bad.

"Please, Y/N." Sierra begged, clasping her hands together.

"Yeah. Come on, Y/N/N. Please." JJ mimicked your sisters’ actions.

That's when they both started pleading, their voices almost blending together if it wasn't because their pitches were different.

"Okay, fine." You gave in.

"Yes!" They both high fived each-other.

You grabbed JJs wrist.

"Please be careful. Watch her. Don't do the usual stupid stuff you and John B usually do," You started rattling on.

JJ grabbed your wrist.

"Don't worry. I'll keep her in one piece, breathing and conscious." He told you before grabbing Sierra's hand.

"Let's go before she changes her mind." He whispered to her before taking off towards the water, Sierra in tow.

****

"Where exactly am I going?" JJs voice pulled you from your thoughts.

"Oh, uh, the Strakams house." You answered.

He glanced over at you with a smile.

"What are you thinking about over there, angel?" He asked you, a sly smirk making his way across his face.

"Nothing unholy unlike you Maybank." You smacked him, knowing that his mind immediately went to the gutter.

"Oh, please. I'm the most holy person here in Outer Banks." He shot back, making an angelic look cross his face.

You rolled your eyes before taking your hand from his and swatting his arm lightly.

JJ just grabbed your hand back, bringing it to his lips so he could press a kiss to it.

"Such a hopeless romantic." You gushed jokingly as he brought your entwined hands down to rest on his thigh.

"I thought that was clear when I brought your mom a plant." He laughed, glancing at you again.

*******

You looked at yourself in the mirror once more before deciding you looked fine.

This was the first time JJ was meeting and hanging out with your family all at once for an extended amount of time. You two were just friends, but it was still important to you for your parents to approve of your friends.

They always seemed to know what a person was actually like.

Your dad met him a couple of months ago when you ran into JJ as he was leaving The Wreck and you two were entering. It was a brief conversation, but your father immediately recognized the name.

"You're the one who took Sierra surfing. She keeps bugging me to take her out now and teach her." Your dad said as he shook JJs hand.

"You surf, sir?" JJ asked as he pulled his hand away.

"Not as much as I used to, but whenever I get the time and motivation to." Your dad answered.

Then your mom met him earlier today.

"So this is the infamous JJ," she commented, shooting you a look.

"I've heard many things about you, Mrs. Y/L/N." JJ smiled politely.

"Like what?" Your mom raised an eyebrow.

"Lets just say, Mr. Y/L/N told me he was worried when he found out you were pregnant after he saw many plants make their way to an early grave." JJ carefully worded.

You put your hand over your mouth, trying not to laugh. You knew your dad often ran into JJ at The Wreck while your dad waited to pick up food, but you didn't know he talked to him.

Your mother looked at you and you shook your head.

"Not funny." You breathed, a serious expression on your face.

"Absolutely not. He's going to be on the couch tonight." Your mother joked.

JJ laughed before your mom spoke again.

"You should come over for dinner." She said, not beating around the bush.

You widened your eyes as JJ nodded.

"I would love to."

Now, you walked out of your room as you swallowed your nervousness.

A knock rang throughout the house, and you walked towards the door to answer it.

"I got it!" Sierra yelled, racing past you in her baby blue sundress.

She threw open the door to reveal the blonde, holding some gifts.

"Hey, Woodstock." He greeted the girl.

He extended his arm towards her, a plastic bag hanging from it.

"The bags for you," he told her.

She pulled it off his arm and looked into it before pulling out a bottle of some sort of alcohol.

"Okay, yeah. That's not for you. That's for your father." He quickly said as he took the bottle from her hand.

She pulled out something else, a stuffed Woodstock with sunglasses on with a surfboard sewed to his wing.

She gasped before giving JJ a hug.

"He's adorable!" She screeched before running to her room.

Your dad walked into the living room as your sister dashed past him.

He shot his youngest daughter a confused look before turning back to JJ.

"Where'd you get that?" He asked, motioning to the bottle.

"Cabinet at home. My dad has yet to drink it." JJ lied.

Well, half lied. Yes, it was from the cabinet at home, but his dad had plans to drink it later tonight.

"Then we shouldn't let it go to waste. " your dad grinned as your mom entered the living room.

"Here," he said as he handed her an aloe plant, "this should be hard to kill."

You grinned at the boy who just shot you a wink as he walked over to greet you.

"You paid for that stuff right?" You whispered in his ear when he gave you a hug.

"Proof of purchase in my pocket." He smirked.

*****

JJ pulled up to the house, seeing Sierra sitting on the porch.

She walked to the backseat and opened the door, climbing in.

"Hey, Woodstock." He greeted her.

"Hey, Snoopy." She smiled at him.

"Ready to go?" He asked.

Both the girls nodded, and he made his way back to their house.

As you were grilling your sister for the reason she wanted to come home, the boy let his mind wander to how your family was more than willing to accept him into theirs.

He, subconsciously, brought your hand up to his lips again and pressed another kiss to ot.

"Gross." Sierra groaned from the backseat.

"Wait until you're older and have a boyfriend." You told her, turning to look at the younger girl.

"Or girlfriend. We don't know her preference yet." JJ chimed in.

You nodded.

"Very true. But just know. I'll be right there teasing you on how mushy gushy you are." You continued.

Sierra rolled her eyes as you pecked JJ on the cheek just to gross her out with more affection.

JJ laughed as he caught Sierra making disgusted faces in the rearview mirror.

The sisters talked as JJ looked out the window as he passed the beach on the way back. Smiling at the memory that popped into his brain.

*****

Your dad decided to take JJ out surfing. He needed to discuss something with him and decided it would be best to do it where JJ felt most safe.

It was a few months after you two started dating and it confused your parents when they'd hear, not only your voice, but JJs voice too late at night.

They liked JJ a lot, but closed doors and whispering voices along with the occasional whimper raised some suspicions.

They were teenagers once too, and they were familiar with the mind of teenagers

JJ didn't want anyone to know about what his dad did to him, and you were always the first person he turned to afterwards. He'd sneak into your bedroom through your window after asking if you were decent.

He'd always head over to John B’s after you had soothed him, though. He didn't want your family to get the wrong impression. He just needed you to hold and comfort him after getting a brutal beating from his father.

After an hour of surfing, the two guys sat on their boards, letting the waves take them wherever.

Your father looked at JJ where a prominent bruise was displayed on his jaw.

"You know you can talk to me and Y/M/N about anything, right?" He asked the boy.

"Yes, sir." JJ nodded.

"Then let's discuss the pop of color on your face." Your dad said bluntly.

Your dad never was one for beating around the bush. Hence why you were not too shocked when he asked at breakfast if you and JJ were... doing things… in your bedroom after him and your mother went to sleep.

You were still shocked though because you didn’t think your parents heard him in your room

You quickly told him no, which only made him more suspicious, demanding an answer to the question of why he was hearing JJs voice and some noises coming from your room late at night.

You didn’t want your parents to get the wrong idea about JJ so you told them it wasn't your place to tell them what was going on exactly, but JJ only went home when it was necessary, often sleeping on John B's sofa.

You felt bad for even giving them that much, but your father just nodded and the next time JJ came over, he asked the boy if he wanted to go surfing this upcoming weekend.

"You know how some kooks get." JJ shrugged.

That was the truth. The bruise he was sporting on his face was from Rafe, no shock there, because Rafe always felt the need to talk about his friends.

And when it came down to it, he allowed no one to talk about his friends like that.

"Fair enough. Did one of those brats give you the one on your rib too?" Your father asked.

This one wasn't as recent as the one on his face, he could tell.

JJ nodded, biting the inside of his cheek.

"You don't have to play it off like it was one of them. Y/N gave us a hint that your home life isn't that good," Your dad squinted at the boy as the sun shone at his face.

JJ sighed, slightly upset at you for telling her parents his business.

"Don't be mad at her. I confronted her and asked if there was anything sexual going on behind closed doors. I thought she was lying because of how fast she said no." He told the blonde.

JJ looked at the man before nodding, deciding to tell him what was happening so he knew nothing was going on.

"My dad likes to get physical sometimes." JJ shrugged as if it was nothing, "I go to Y/N/N afterwards cause she's… a safe space, I guess you could say. She listens to me and holds me for an hour or so and just lets me cry it out. But I swear, I always head over to John Bs and sleep there."

Your father nodded and a few minutes of silence spread over the two.

"I don't know if you know this, but we have a spare room that's always opened for people who need to stay during a terrible storm. It still hasn't been used." Your dad told him.

This was his indirect way of saying that their house was always open to him and that he had more than one place to go.

"It'd be a shame if it went any longer without use after Y/M/N spent so much time and money into it." He continued.

JJ looked at him.

"The dresser just sits there, empty and dusty…" he trailed off.

"I guess we can't let a dresser just sit there and gather dust for the rest of its life." JJ whispered.

Your dad shook his head.

Another silence settled between the two of them.

"20 bucks says you can't ride that wave." Your dad nodded towards a wave.

"You’re on." JJ grinned.

*****

"JJ," You nudged him.

"Hmm?" He hummed.

"Are you staying here or going to the Chateau?" You asked again.

JJ thought about it for a minute and he looked at your house.

"That poor box of Mac and Cheese has been sitting on the counter for far too long, yearning to be poured into a pot of boiling water." He smiled at you.

"Here it is." You smiled.

"Charlie Brown movie night!" Your sister hollered, opening the door and climbing out.

JJ shook his head, a smile on his face.

You leaned over and pecked his lips, opening the door to get out.

"Mom and Dad are home." He commented.

You looked over to see your dad's car and nodded.

"We should call the whole gang over. Get the whole family together." He suggested.

You grinned at the thought as he opened the drivers side.

"Sounds perfect." You whispered before the both of you got out of the car.

You had some phone calls to make.

#outer banks #jj outer banks #jj x reader #jj maybank #rudy pankow #rudy obx

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stray-tori · 3 years

Text

An Innocent Sin & the good gay flashback ft. my descent into madness

I wasn’t sure if I should post this but I mostly want it archived so here we go. This is from like,, September?

So. “An Innocent Sin” is a dumpster fire unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I don’t remember why I decided to read it. maybe I was crazy. Either way... I read it. It soon started to touch upon (very very outlandish) sexual abuse which I thought was interesting. (the angst, not so much some of the wack circumstances surrounding it)

ANYWAY. at some point... we have a flashback. And not just that. It has a gay character.

And it turns rly gay. which mind you, is still in a het smut manwha (that has a “gay” side couple, but still!)

And it destroyed me.

For those who want to read it because I genuinely think the flashback is a decent bit, it’s all the bonus chapters between chapter 77 and 78 I think. There’s a part before that too, but idk where exactly anymore. (It’s on lezhin! or your platform of choosing)

I don’t THINK you’ll need any other knowledge to get the flashback bit? but it’s been a while.

Below the cut (rip mobile users), you can read all of my amazing reactions (all of these were text messages, for context - but I took most of the replies and convos about other things out). Post is also tagged as long post. :))

(i’m serious, this is fucking long)

__________

Here I am. Liking the gay flashback character. Feck. Main dude is still straight but idk it's cute pff

This is a mess. The girl white hair likes, likes black hair, maybe, but thinks white hair is attractive

What just happened is sth I'd like to know too pff He's so cute tho omg. Watch me melt Can we stay in this flashback before everything got perverted af and before white hair gets assaulted all the time I would send an eyebrow emote if I could Context: he's asking he says it again

Ik it's not mutual but loookkk he's so sweet. He's kinda rude in present time, can't we stay in this flashback forever

I never asked for gay, never expected gay but I got gay

This story is trash why am I still reading it shdhhd

He caught his mom cheating. And now she's forcing him to watch??? What is thissss Well adoptive mom But still sudhdidu what Bitch how dare YOU exist

Save my babyyyy

Yay sister that's not yet a rapist to the rescueee

This flashback is actually just nicer in every way let's just stay here This is a super long flashback btw Idek anymore what triggered it

Okay I think I'm gonna make the sensible decision and let this dumpster fire rest and just go sleep

It was very wild. I kinda wanna see white hair get therapy but it has 90 chapters and I'm at like 30... So I'm very concerned this is gonna be very dragged out. Idek if it's even finished ahahsududi - but I do kinda wanna see where it goes and see more cute Noah (white hair) so. Here we are.

yeahhh like i was down for the sexual abuse angst but then the mother killed the adoptive son's mother bc the dad had a thing for her?? and it was someone a person studying with white hair knew and so he's investigating and I'm like how did this turn into a crime organisation kind of plot

hhhhhhh i... i appreciate these horny things also tackling abuse but it always kind of gives me weird vibes to have both, especially when its very horny. And when people are horny to people who've been abused. Idk but I'd assume... you might try NOT to tie them up if they're frequently bondaged during their assaults. I'm just.... disjdksdj hello?? am i weird?? why are they fine with it???

also this manwha is so wild, theres this murder mystery investigation thing and then theres just a couple doing honry stuff sprinkled in between and i'm like OKAY

they rescued a guy in their basement and he's understandably very traumatized and they're trying to question him cut to our main couple trying bondage which i still dont understand bECAUSE HE'S A RAPE VICITM WHY ARE YOU OKAY WITH THIS the ones questioning arent the main couple of course but idshkjds

like im glad he's somehow okay with all this horny stuff despite his trauma and im glad he can be happy and have a nice relationship but DO WE NEED THIS MUCH OF IT he's very cute tho

i like that even when i try other stuff lezhin recommends me it still has large amount of gay in it

[mei: i mean... that's pretty great, if you ask me]

I mean I agree, I'm enjoying the gay eheheh these tonal whiplashes there's not even that much white space between the panels fhjd nvm it just turned horny goddamn it can there be 1 chapter without fucking? okay, there were the flashbacks

WE ARE BACK IN FLASHBACKS but im not getting the gay relationship, sad

OH WAIT AM I GETTING GAY COMFORT bc thats very good too

OH NNOOO this turned sad very quickly

I'M SORRY IM SPAMMING BUT THIS IS JUST ANGSTY

I'M :((((

different species confirmed

I rly like them :((( I like the current girl too but it's just..... very horny with her. the flashbacks are nice [current tori edit: she’s very unloyal idk why i said I liked her] im weird HHHHH RIPPP

someone help him he looks so saddddd

not sure if thats the most healthy relationship but I'LL TAKE IT

AWWW black hair's mom cooks mild food for them bc Noah can't eat spicy food :((( im soft

PFFF

I LOVE THE FLASHBACKS :(((

awww

i feel like theyve done much more bonding than noah's current relationship. I mean yes I think its cute when she comforts him, too, but they rarely do anything besides be horny together

OH OH THEY'RE KISSING

best buildup, honestly

the position is hornier than I'd like later here goes hope it stays cute

D-did someone just respect the word "stop"??? I am amazed

i think you might uh. have some trauma stuff too so yknow

Dohye is a little dramatic in his reassurance but it's all rly cute so I'm :(( I like them a lot pls stay like this getting invested in flashbacks is always like: ik it wont stay but pls stay like this

hELP

chapters ending in "i wanna touch him" is never good. I'm scared. Oh okay he didnt do anything. PHEW. He's already better than the girl, can't they just end up together lmao

[Noah was jealous]

w-why do you look so evil dohye haukdhjs

oh. oh no. the horny is starting. pls dont... just be cute forever

DOHYE NO YOU WERE SO DECENT WHY ARE YOU LYING ABOUT KOREAN TRADITIONS TO GET HIM TO DO STUFF HORNY STUFF TOO NO PLS STOP I JUST- WHEEE TvT the manwha is actually less visually horny in the flashbacks but im not sure if its bc its BL which isnt rly the genre of the manwha or if its bc they're still kids basically, which... I'd respect the latter, tho I'd prefer it to be like this constantly haha

okay. he's not respecting stop anymore, but it's also more of embarrassed nature more than "no i dont want this stop" so maybe i can forgive it. Still losing points, but he hugged him and it was sweet so HHHHHHHHHHH NOT SURE HOW I SHOULD JUDGE THIS SITUATION

They [Noah’s family] forbid him to visit his friends house I AM DEVASTATED

understandable they're a rapist, a fucked up murderer mother and a father with a thing for younger women so

tho he dont know any of that but yknow he's so pretty just fucking end me on the spot

hooo

they are boyfriends and ik from the future that his sister is gonna ruin it allll she has those drugs that make visual imaginations feel like they rly happened to the person (dont know if thats real but holy fuck its terrifying) and she's used it before to say that Noah assualted her. and im pretty sure shes gonna use it again bc there was a panel of Noah remembering Dohye being uhhhh intimate with her and thats why Noah began to hate him and im so sad im not ready for it. bc he's denied it in the future and i honestly couldnt see it happening even before that or she drugged Dohye, i guess thats a possibility too

[current tori: oh girl, it’s neither and it’s wack]

which if, btich you gonna die even more enough rambling, more reading. this makes me so sad but also spicy

on the manwha note, he thinks Noah doesnt like his family bc he's adopted and doesnt feel comfy which....... fair enough i suppose. and he's so cute im gonna melt just looK AT THIS

SHUt UP, IM GONNA CRY

OH MY GODDDD he ate like ice and gum and all that, and Dohye assumed it was bc of the more spicy food and got rl worried, but he was just trying to get the smell out of his breath bc he wanted to kiss him ukhsdjs HOW CAN YOU BE SO CUTE HELLLOOOOOOOOO

look at them. LOOK AT mY BABIESSSS

how am i ever gonna care about the main couple again aww he-he wanted to go to the same highschool as him :((( im sad bc i know its not gonna happennnnnn

[mei: also at this point, you're literally never gonna care about them. i don't even know the main couple that well and i honestly don't care about them whatsoever.]

WAIT NO they're actually going to the same school awww ik it wont take long until sister fucks it up for them but for now theyre so sweet ohmygodddd

cant he move in with them, fuck his family honestly

dohye he's not a fucking pokemon iukhsdjs

oh. its. turning horny i am displeased with this development but i guess its natural for their relationship however COULD YOU DO IT AT HOME AND NOT IN SOME DUSTY SMALL ROOM how do ppl do this i like that the comments too are just "... is anyone still carng about the other girl?" sakjds

this is the best 3 panels in existence.

h-he just took your hand dohye idk what to tell you

[mei: "you blush at everything i do" god if that isn't me, idk what is]

awww its cute dohye is getting bonus points bc he invited Noah over while his mom wasnt home, they watched some sexual stuff and he DIDNT try to do anything what is this where can i get more of this

"well im not okay"

MY BABIESSSS

they still didnt do much btw they're just kinda exploring and its honestly nice TvT I dont want this to ever endddd

[Dohye sees Noah’s sister and approaches her] N O

N OOOO

this is the starttttt of something.......... TERRIBLEEEE

:((( babyyyy

I AM EMO

Noah was drugged im sure. hes having dreams and waking up in pain and the sister is asking doyhe over I DONT LIKE THISSSSSSS OH HE DECLINED

OKAY OKAY he saw him with her again but it was from behind and im not sure if it rly happened??? oh no this is terrible. Noah :((( poor child

i am so emo about this

[reminder he’s been abused TvT]

[the sister: “Don’t you want to know why?”]

i will. murder someone he called to ask her to delete his number btw what is this manwha but this is just gonna make it that more tragic when whatever happens that breaks them apart :(((

he's such a good bf but Noah just wont TELL him his side I'M SO SAD

I AM SO SAD

It cant end im actually tearing up nooo you were so cuteeee and happpyyy

[*sister is telling dohye to come to the gym hall*]

what else is she gonna do she already teared [current tori: ahem... T O R E] them apart THAT'S NOT DOYhE. THATS NEVER HIM. OH MY GOD. is it a look alike??? damn, she's dedicated to just. ruining it, huh

I’M

I’M SO SAD

now he's switching SCHOOLS NO NOOOOO how will i ever find happiness againnnn NO they're misunderstanding further they're not talking properly i mean i get it but oh my god

I'M :(((

NO NOOOO pls make up in the future at least omg he tried to clear it up tooo ahhh i dont even have hopes for them getting back together but i just i want them to clear it up im crying first manwha to make me cry and it's this dumpster fire ahaha maybe a little too bc it kinda hit a little close to home i guess but goddamnn ittttt they were so cuteee and so happy and AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

OH NO. Noahs getting drugged and assaulted. And he's realizing it happened before, he just forgot. I am. so sad it's not horny drawn either which i appreciate but MY HEART NO

N O DONT YOU DARE MAKE THIS WORSE

Im. gonna cry more

Doyhe kept an eye on him im so emo :(( but he thought he was doing well enough and gave up.... Im im so sad no i want you to make up and get back together its all just a stupid........... MEHHHH will i ever find sth like this flashback again

[mei: p-probably not, no]

i am so devasted i dont even wanna go back to the main couple just fucking. i want this relationship back :(((( but i guess the investigation might end up somewhere so hhh hhhhhhhhhhhhhh the baker manwha had a similar flashback feeling so. i just gotta find more of that haha

BUT THIS WAS SO SAD??? im so emo

[Dohye got kidnapped // the flashback commentary stops here but I think my descend into madness is pretty funny too]

OH YEAH THAT HAPPENED. THE FLASHBACK WAS SO LONG I FORGOT. NOOOO SAVE HIM. JESUS CHRIST PLS JUST ONE GOOD THING

its. actually rly smart to have another, more focused on them flashback, before the arc where he gets kidnapped by the rapist murder household so. good job. from a meta perspective but also NO but also. maybe theres hope for them making up at least after all :(((

[main couple kissing] this is. very weird now. but im glad he has someone, he deserves it but dohyeeeee

and switching to sex, YET AGAIN now i wanna see this EVEN LESS THAN I DID BEFOREEEE it's even.... a threesome now with one of the other characters why are you like this why can't you be. like in the flashback i am so upset HAHHHHH WHEEEZEEEE

I am just stop fucking jesus christ PLEASE I DONT WANNA SEE IT ANYMOREEEEE

im just stop the horny pls just tell me who that new guy is and why doyhe likes him so much

[mei: this manwha is a fucking mess but at least we got your lovely commentary out of it]

dhsuksj thanks i feel honored at least i got cute BL out of it before everything went [back] to shit

[mei: THAT TOO]

[...]

tbh im getting kinda mad about doyhe... i dont... feel like he'd just fall instantly for a guy who looks like Noah... but eh not my character

i just want closure for dohye at this point, fuck everything else ... not literally pls theres already too much of that

pls get it together for like 1 chapter is the investigation even still happening i am so confused save dohye plEASE wait what i have less than 10 episodes left Dont tell me this shit isnt even wrapped up yet

[Dohye is having a breakdown over the Noah double not coming to see him anymore]

yeah i this... doesnt feel like Dohye... at all... Even when Noah was rejecting him he was just kind of... taking it with some humor and maybe he was a little desperate and risky sometimes but... oh well... i do want him to get better but... im having a hard time believeing this development??? he never seemed overly anxious or anything. but who knows what else they did to him. Sister can still go fuck off tho

[...]

i mean. i liked the flashbacks a lot honestly??? it stayed simple and focused on the dynamics and less trying to balance smut with murder plots

[dm partner: NO THAT'S WHAT I MEAN LIKE CLEARLY THE AUTHOR CAN MAKE A GOOD STORY SO I'M JUST... CONFUSED AS TO WHY THEY DIDN'T STICK WITH SOME SOFT, FLUFFY BL ROMANCE MANWHA AND DECIDED TO MAKE WHATEVER THIS IS INSTEAD ]

okay i dont care bc dohye is currently getting assaulted nobody asked for this why i just. this is terrible. he was... so sweet. he doesnt deserve this. nobody does of course but jesus christ pls someone save him at least its not horny visually, one saving grace

ah... the assult is back to being depicted horny-ly thank you for nothing

[... removed some general confusion about the plot]

YES. SOME SHIP FOOD.

i am. suffering i mean i cant stop but GOD

okay so apparantly. the sister. has just an arsenal of people who look like other people Dohye, then Noah... and even Noah's GF??? this is ridiculous??

one good message

why

did you feel the need to add that [actual tired rage]

im gonna die this manwha is gonna kill me im laughing but im suffering oh hes arrested great and thats the end and the last update was in january of this year

why AS IN NOAH IS ARRESTED nobody who actually did anything is arrested What is this why is this AHHH I at least wanted the complete-ness of finishing this but now I'M JUST SUFFERING

[ mei: I MEAN TO BE FAIR I'D BE SUFFERING TOO BC JUST... WHAT THE FUCK I HAVE?? MANY QUESTIONS?? AND MANY CONCERNS BC THIS MANWHA IS JUST... AN EXPERIENCE ]

its an experience allright WELL

_______________

yup that’s it.

in my head, in a twist of events Dohye and Noah make up and are actual endgame. Something like that must exist out there but I won’t ask because it’d destroy the surprise and ruin the point.

That’s it.

Have a nice day.

#an innocent sin #dohye x noah #noah x dohye #long post #tori talks #tori has opinions #reactions #yes I do this often in our dms #poor mei #toriqueue

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blazingpheonixo · 3 years

Text

okay, so were getting personal here,

This March will be coming up to my Dad's 3 year deathaversary. It wasnt expected, he was only 38. He drowned, and his death is acually still under investigation. That's probably the first close death i had. Anyway, it caused a lot of problems in my family. Including my mum moving her and my sister an hour and a half away from me. That and i dont hear from dads side of the family anymore. so thats super shit. When this happened i Also lost my best friend at the time Georgia. She went off at my boyfriend Kenedy because he didnt want to come to the funeral and caused some issues. anyways I forgot to mention when he died i was in rockhampton. which was even more shit. but anyway, when i came back. I didnt hear from my best friend at all, i went to the funeral. still hadnt heard from her. She full went off at my partner cause he didnt wanna come to the funeral but yeah a week had past since coming back and she knew i was back. Sent her a message and said hey whats going on, you went off at him made a big deal but i havent heard from you. and pretty much she responded with telling me that i was a shit friend and It was mean to message her like that and then she blocked me on everything. So yeah I lost my father and my best friend in the same week. I still dont know wtf happened which just comes up in my brain a lot.

And then theres my ex, Kenedy. I think i said already that we were together for nearly 6 years. We broke up over a stupid photo at the end of July so its been 4 months. For starters we were engaged and we were about to start trying for a kid. But it was such a toxic and unhealthy relationship dude. Like fuck.. We used to get into fights and ill just be straight up, it got physical. Id end up covered in bruised and cuts and it was pretty bad tbh. Holes in walls. Broken bits. I never ended up in hospital because of it but like it was still pretty bad. This probably only happened the last two years of the relationship. I grew up watching my mum be abused, i know that it isn't the norm and what ever but i guess i was kind of use to it in a way? so i think thats why i put up with it? idk. That or my mental issues lol. But yeah so, I'm still kind of getting past that bit, I have photos that come up in my memories which trigger me and sometimes I get panic attacks randomly. Its shit. It wasn's always physical.

Then we come to my ex best friend, Rhianne. I literally grew up with her, but we never used to be friends, we just went all through school together. She also used to be my bully in kinder and prep LOL.

Anyway, we started being friends when i first moved into this place so maybe a year and a half? shes toxic to haha. We had a good friendship at the start but the more i hung out with her the more i began to feel like shit about myself. I don't have friends. She was pretty much all i had. So i kind of let a lot of stuff slide and i never really stood up for myself. and i mean a lot of things i let slide. She got really obsessive towards me. I honestly think she is infatuated with me. She would rock up here pretty much daily and use me for my stuff and makeup and clothes and then wed go for drives and stuff. idk we used to do everything together. Not because i wanted to either. Pretty much what she said was the go. She would talk down to me as if i was a child. Im the kind of person as well that i like my alone time, i dont like going out all the time i like to sit in and enjoy my own company, I dont like hanging out EVERYDAY with someone. She use to talk shit about me behind my back as well. just cause so much drama and eh. But she was so fkn obsessive. Then when kenedy and i broke up, her friend was having there birthday at the clubhouse, so thats house i was introduced to the club. She took me a long and told me to take someone home to help myself feel better about the breakup. SO anyway, Shaun was there and we were getting to know each other.

She caused a big scene and didnt want me to take him home. I think it was jealousy. Got to the point were she had me in tears.

I then for some weird reason logged into my exes account, I found messages telling people how much he hates me and wants me to kill myself and wants to fuck Rhianne. Then i showed her all of this. She was grossed out and deleted him. We then had a small fight because i stood up for myself one night. Why we wernt talking she went out clubbing and Kenedy was out. So she party'd with my ex as well as invited him and had him come back to her dads place. Nothing happened to my knowledge but I mean, Im sure they fucked.

Anyway, (I have depression and anxiety. When kenedy and i broke up, i didnt handle it well, I started self harming and it was getting pretty bad) I took shaun home from the clubhouse that night and pretty much his been here ever since, so 3 months we've been together now. I’m not sure if I love him or not. I don’t know because my brain is scattered at the moment. Because of everything hoing on. His a lovely guy, but his not for me. But the way my brain works and how im coping with all these things, i just can't be alone dude. I literally get so depressed and its scary because i don't want to give myself the chance because when im alone like i am tonight. All of this just goes through my brain and i get so fucked up, i don't even know if you wanna hear about self harm and abuse. but it happens. TBH im probably going to end up hurting myself tonight. I wasnt joking to you when i said i wanted to drive my car into a truck. i literally feel like that.

So what actually made Rhianne and i stop being friends. Her, Shaun and myself were drinking at her friends. Shaun has epilepsy and actually had a seizure in front of me the previous day, Rhianne got into him and told him it was his fault and that i should never have had to of seen that. I didnt go off at her, HER friend kicked her out and told her sleep in her car. Since then she has tried to constantly break us up.

On top of that, im in a lot of debt. and it got to the point were i actually made a Onlyfans account and it actually helped. I feel gross about it but it was private no one i knew in real life had access. OR SO I THOUGHT. i used tumblr to get my subscribers, didnt realise my ex Kenedy had access. He sent screenshots to Rhianne and she sent them to pretty much everyone i know. Ive lost a few friends becuase of it. and well yeah it was degrading. She then apologised and i forgave her for like a whole 6 hours. Until i really thought about it. Just cause we were in a small argument i wouldnt do that to her you know or anyone. so i told her that. and shes been super nasty since.

She is also still talking with my ex.

So yeah, I also might have breast cancer 😣

These are most the reasons I want to die.

#depression #depressed #life #anxiety #anxious #help #suicidal #abuse #ex #friends #heartbreak #broken #lost #help me

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so-not-starks-kid-37 · 5 years

Text

Spider Heat!

A/N: Sorry it took so long! I had too many memos and my phone kept deleting it! But here it is and I hope you like it!

@pretty--parker @yuihoshi

- -

Peter groans as he pulled his large comforter closer to his body. Ever since he was allowed to move in with the Avengers he had been feeling strange. His temperature kept fluctuating, he was constantly aroused, Loki ran everytime he saw him and it seemed like Thor had started copying Loki since that one night he lost almost two hours.

Whimpering he palms his small cocklet through his Hulk boxers Sam had bought him....god Sam...he was kind of hot wasn't he? Whining he felt his cock twitch under his hand. Slowly getting out of bed he slowly stumbles out of his room in search for ice...cream. Yeah. Ice cream will help.

Making it to the fridge he yanks it open and pulls open the freezer drawer. Where the hell was the ice cream? Ah there it i- "What do you think your doing?" A voice asks, startling Peter so bad he fell to his side like a bomb just went off. "If I can't have ice cream before dinner then you can't either."

Peter whimpered from his spot on the floor. "Hot...." He whines, looking up at the person who spoke.

Peter let out a low moan when he saw what his mentor was wearing. He's seen pictures and seen him in the lab but for some reason he was really attracted to the man in front of him. Tony Stark wearing sweatpants and a tank top must've been the down fall for his body because as soon as he sat up he was crawling over.

Panting Peter wraps his arms around Tonys leg he moans when he rolled his hips against his leg. The poor boy didn't even realise he was making a distinctive sound from his throat that startled the man whose leg he was currently humping.

Tony stared at the boy on his leg, gulping softly. Licking his lips he keeps a keen eye on the boy...until he made that weird sound. Tony jumped slightly when he suddenly felt vibration coming from the boys throat that sounds suspiciously like a purr. "H-Hey kiddo. You having fun down there?" He asks softly when he saw the blissed out face Peter had.

Peter nods quickly. It felt good to have something other than his hand on his cock. Panting he noses at the growing bulge in the mans pants. "Daddy...daddy...." He whimpers.

Oh this might be fun....but not now. Carefully pulling Peter up he carries the horny spider boy to his bedroom. Laying him down he watches as Peter quickly and clumsily undresses. Tony chuckles and moves down to kiss the boys cheek.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Peter whimpers as he moved his head to kiss Tony's lips.

"No, no baby boy. I'm sleepy." Tony says as he stands to leave.

Peter immediately sat up and tried to go after him but he couldn't stop himself from grinding against a pillow his cocklet barely grazed. Panting he curls up and hugs the pillow, rolling his hips with lewd little noises getting past his lips.

*A few minutes later....*

Tony hums as he goes past Loki and Thor's room...only to be pulled through. Yelping he grunts when he was thrown against the wall. "Whoa, whoa! What's going on?!" He quickly asks as the person who grabbed him backed off.

Loki groans and rubs his face. "Do something about the spider-child! He is driving us insane!" Loki yells.

"What? He's a sweetheart, what is he doing?" Tony asks in confusion.

"He's been releasing a pheromone to be mated! We can all smell it and you can't for some reason!" Thor quickly explains as Steve, Bucky, Wolverine and the rest of Team Cap nods from the corner.

"Pheromone?" Tony asks in confusion.

"He's part Spider and-" Natasha starts but stops when Tony held up his hand.

"Not talking to you bitch. Loki, explain." Tony states firmly.

"Tony!" Steve scolds.

"What you cheating, abusive, scumbag?" Tony asks in a cold voice.

"N-Nothing...."

"Good. Now Loki explain please."

"The spider-child is part spider now and spiders have heat cycles. The boy is experiencing his first one it seems. He has been suffering since he moved in." Loki quickly states. "He sees any one of us as good mates from our natures or strength and must be seeing us as different types of spiders to have eggs with and has been trying to come to us but he snaps out of it. That's why I've been hiding from him. I don't believe I would be able to control myself from mating with him."

"But that's where you come in! You have to mate with Son of Parker! Please! We are all going crazy!" Thor says quickly.

Tony looks at everyone and shrugs. "Ok. I'll fuck Peter. But only for the sake of you, reindeer games and Logan. Do I have to get him pregnant or...?"

"No just keep mating him until he is satisfied." Loki reassures before pushing tony out.

Yelping a manly yelp he stumbles before standing up straight. Fixing his clothes he walks to his bedroom he doesn't hear the loud purring and moaning, to focused on everything else. Stepping into his room he felt his little iron man rise to attention.

On his bed was sweet, innocent Peter Parker playing with one of Tony's old dildos and going absolutely wild on it. Tony watches and listens to the boy panting and moaning as he was fucked by the toy fast and hard. "D-Daddy! Daddy!" Peter whined when he saw Tony standing there, palming himself through his sweats.

"Hey baby~" Tony purred as he walked closer. "Looks like your enjoying Daddy's favorite toy."

"Daddy wasn't in here! Needed daddy! Need daddy!" Peter whines.

Getting onto his hands and knees Peter crawled over to Tony and nuzzles Tonys face with his own, the dildo slipping out from all the lube used. Licking his neck he moved further and further down until he got to the pants. Quickly pulling them down he immediately takes the heavy, thick, unit into his mouth.

Tony groans and holds the back of his head, rocking into the warm, wet mouth. "Fuck baby~" He moans out softly. "So eager~"

Peter whimpers around him, reaching between his legs to finger his little hole. Tony groans and pushes him off, getting impatient. Picking up his hip he immediately slams home making Peter scream in pleasure and relief.

Tony groans softly in his ear when he felt the tight squeeze around himself. Pulling out all the way he slams deep into the boy once more, making him squeal and whimper. Chuckling Tony removes the rest of his clothes while licking his lips.

"Fuck baby you look so good when you have daddy's cock in you." He chuckles soft.

Peter gasps when Tony started up a rough and hard pace. His eyes roll into the back of his head when the mans cock hit his prostate on every inward thrust. Biting his lip he tries to keep his moans inside but his mentor fucking him like a fleshlight made it hard to think at all.

Panting Peter climbed onto all fours, crying out and gripping the sheets tight. Screaming out he suddenly cums hard and untouched. Tony chuckles as he slams hard and harder into Peter. "Such a good boy, such a good boy~" He purrs in his ear. "Now daddy wants you to ride him like a race horse baby."

Peter whimpers and nods. When Tony pulled out and laid back his lap was instantly filled with horny spider teen. Peter reaches back to feel for his cock. When he found it he instantly sunk down and starts to ride Tony for all he was worth and considering he was on top of Tony Stark...well I think you get the picture.

Tonys groans and moans of pleasure just strived him on more. Panting he grips Tony's shoulders when he begun aiming for his prostate. The young spider cries out suddenly when it was struck head on. Panting he pulls Stark closer to him and rides him as hard as his body could handle.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Peter cries out, drool rolling down his chin.

Tony groans at all the lewd sounds his boy was making. All of the whimpers, mewls and tiny moans. God he couldn't take it anymore! Picking Peter up he tries for a different way that he is so not stealing from Steve.

Hanging Peter upside down he wraps his legs around his waist and holds the boys hips tight. Thrusting downwards he pulls Peter up into each thrust. Peters mouth opened in a silent scream as his blood didn't know which way to go, causing him to get dizzy.

Panting Tony continued his move and chuckled when he saw Peter clawing at the ground. "Feel good baby? Huh? Feel good~?" Tony laughs.

Tony watches the boy claw at the ground with a blissed out expression on his face. Peters head bobs quickly as a yes. Stark chuckles and watches the boy writhe on his cock. Groaning Tony pulls him into each thrust even harder than before when he felt the familiar knot starting to loosen.

"Fuck! Gonna cum!" He groans out.

"In! In! In!" Peter whimpers out.

Tony growls loudly when he felt the knot completely come loose. Both men cry out as they came together. Panting Tony picks the boy up and lays him on his chest.

"Fuck that was amazing~" Tony purrs.

Peter pants softly as he slowly pulled off of Tony's cock. Smiling he nuzzles Tonys cheek...right before he started their little session all over again.

*Six months later...*

"Pete you need any help over there?" Tony calls out from the kitchen.

"No!"

"Yes he does!"

Tony laughs softly when he saw Peter, Bucky and Rhodey backing Peter up into the kitchen with a bunch of gift boxes and bags in his arms. "Soooo how was the shower?" He asks smiling.

"Awesome! Did you know theres a baby swing for new borns?" Peter asks smiling.

"Really?" Tony asks in confusion, walking around the island.

"Yep. And the little stinker in my tummy wouldn't stop kicking all day! Maybe we should sign them up for soccer." Peter giggles as he puts the presents down to reveal his big round belly.

Tony smiles and kisses the tummy then Peter. "Tones? Next time wear protection." Rhodey says with a sigh.

"Uhhhhh...no." Tony smirks as Peter threw a rattle at Rhodey.

#avengers #peter parker #tony stark #short story #starker #mpreg (mentioned)#spider heat

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tumblunni · 5 years

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MAN OKAY IM MAKING A SELF INDULGENT KINGDOM HEARTS SONA

Probably the only main reason i havent made another one since i was a kid is cos i never really wanted to be a keyblade master. Even as a kid i always hated "they are just all magically born evil because darkness energy" as a trope. Whenever an evil guy had minions who were all "mindless and evill" and you were supposed to mow them down in droves because of it, i always felt like they seemed LESS evil, yknow? Like youre canonically stating that theyre NOT evil! Theyre dangerous, yeah, but you just said that they dont have complex cognitive thought or ability to choose their own actions. Theyrr just being USED for evil, by the guy whos the real evil! Theyre like guard dogs who were abused into dangerness and if they cant be rehibilitated then its sad, yknow? Poor heartless!! And seriously how can they make them have such cute designs and not expect us to see them that way!!

So yeah i hate that canonically the heartless are all evil and canonically everyone good has to destroy the heartless, like its the entire damn point of a keyblade so i couldnt even touch one without being forced to slay the cutebabs! And KHDDD was great with the long awaited addition of CUTE BABS GOOD GUY MONSTERS YOU CAN HUG, although they were a whole new species of monster and its still canon that heartless are all evil and the equally as annoying canon that all good/remotely sentient Nobodies look like regular humans instead of the cute patoots they once was. THE CUTE PATOOT THAT NEVER WAS!!!! Srsly the low level Dusk is my fave design in the whole series its such a good squiggle boye

OKAY OKAY SO MY POINT IS

If i was gonna make a normal khsona itd have to be either specifically a Dream Eater trainer keyblade weilder whose entire story is about pet raising and none of the fightng evil, or an Organization member because theyre the only sympathetic monsters even if they dont look monstery anymore. Even though obviously rationally my self insert in anything would always be a good guy cos i am a very soft boyo who is too much of a wimp to do the slightest evil. But alas all the best characters are evil and the monsters look so cute aaaa!!

SO OKAY my ULTIMATE self indulgent khsona would be ME AM ANSEM NOW

Me as a heartless researcher who hugs all the heartless and becomes a heartless and then we heartlessly heartfully hug! Cos seriously it is a true fact that i would be a good guy but also if someone came up to me and was like "hey its totally possible to BECOME one of the cute monsters" id be like "oh noooo dammit i guess im evil now" *shrugs in heartless* But i wouldnt really do anything evil i'd just run like.. Old friends senior heartless sanctuary. Just make a big nice house for all my monsters and bake them cakes everyday. I WOULD LEARN TO COOK FOR THEM!!!! So if that makes me evil then i guess i am evil, dammit!! "Oh nooo we dont wanna get our souls stolen and turn into really fabulous cute designs with amazing supernatural powers" well you are WRONG okay. Just my most self indulgent everything idea is just *points at the evilest beastie* im gonna lovv and cherish that! *takes a running leap into a ballpit of Darkballs* SERIOUSLY DARKBALLS ARE SOME OF THE CUTEST AND ALL THEIR ANIMATIONS ARE SO CUTE WHY IS EVERY HEARTLESS SO CUTE AND SO ANIMATED WHY ARE THEY THE MOST DIDNEY THING IN DIDNEY WHY DID THE NEW GAME ADD A HEARTLESS WHOSE JUST A BIG PUDDING WITH A FACE HOW AM I MEANT TO NOT LOVE THAT hhhh

So yeah khsona bunni is some librarian mothafucker who does Deep Darkness Research but is also the nice goofy good guy sort of mad scientist, like the nutty professor or something. I'd probably be the comic relief on some team of actual villains, thats the only way id really be any threat to anyone. But i'd also totally be The Mom Friend and itd be like u guys are having some serious battle and then i call up Mr Big Villain mid battle like HEY YO COME JOIN KARAOKE WITH ME AND THE HEARTLESS and then hes like "damn man can we have a rain check on the whole end of the world thing?"

Like lol another self indulgent oc thing would be "power to be friends with all the fave villains and they are my friend and we hug". Like an all star teamup of just specifically all bunni's fave KH and didney villains and then also they never fight anyone and we just enjoy slice of life friendship antics. Like Kuja and Ursula would be so cool!! Cos theyre both similar personality yet Kuja had experience manipulating a more loser-y lady who looked a lot like ursula so i can expect he'd underestimate her and try his queen brahne plan again and maybe get outsmarted? And maybe theyd be locked in an eternal battle of two masterminds trying to manipulate each other and along the way they somehow end up accidentally forming a mentor student or mom and son relationship? Like ursula is the better version of garland and she helps kuja heal from his childhood trauma and also in the process maybe he helps her heal from whatever ambiguous backstory event led to her being ostracized from her royal family and such. THEY WOULDNT BE BAD IF THEY HAD HUGS OK let me believe this!! And also of course theyre both the big gay/trans coded dramatic fashion person from their respective stories, so srsly there could be so much awesomeness from the combination of The Two Most Stylish Of Two Worlds! Also i wonder how Kuja would even work in a khified version? Like maybe terra still exists as a separate world in kh world rules and it has a plan to destroy and take over gaia in the same way as the original ff9. Or maybe take some of kuja's other plot points and go from there? Like with how he disguised himself as a treno noble and how he eas created by garland to be an "angel of death", maybe in this world he's a shapeshifter Nobody assassin who infiltrates different worlds and corrupts important people to help garland destroy them? But since he's a very complex experiment and complex = humanoid in this universe, it could be an excuse for him becoming sentient over time and having a plot similar to repliku wanting to be a real human. And i dunno maybe zidane is his "brother" because he's the heartless made from the same original dead guy, who was discarded as a failed experiment? Like it could be interesting to see both of them as villains on the same side, and actually have a close relationship as loving brothers. And theres even already a monkey type heartless! And i dunno maybe the plot of garland creating the genomes infiltrator heartless and then kuja going on to create black mages still black mages? Like he still makes Vivi cos seriously its SO WEIRD that the heartless are based on black mages and then of all things they decided that Vivi would be the ONLY ff9 character allowed to appear in the whole kh series and itd just be in the role of "normal human kid". But they didnt even change his design!! He still looks like a heartless!! Why does nobody question why fredbob mcnormalson doesnt have a face!! So itd make much more sense if he was still a heartless and he's just a good one who wants to be a real boy BUT COS THE WORLD SAYS ALL HEARTLESS ARE EVIL I CANT HAVE THAT. Theyre all evil and only extra evil people get to be humanoid types! Boooo! So kuja doing Special Experiment Science could explain there being at least one special heartless thats not evil. And i dunno, kuja sends vivi out on his first test mission to infiltrate and destroy twilight town but whoops instead he becomes everyone's favourite baby brother! Like he's about to devour some dude's soul and then seifer and co come in and yell at the victim like DUDE ARE U BULLYING THIS POOR TINY CHILD and they drag off this poor very confused heartless in a hug and now he's Lost Forever I Guess. Kuja: damn he tasted icecream i'll never get him back!

Look ok i really like Villains Who Are Not Bad and i will constantly make Villains Who Are Not Bad and nothing will ever be better than Villains Who Are Not Bad

My khsona is Good Heartless who hugs Good Heartless in a team of Good Heartless and also brings in other cameo characters to become Good Heartless ok yes the end hell yea hugs n such

TYHE BEST OCS IS HUGS OCS OK

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langstexmachina · 6 years

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yoyoyo

so im planning on writing a chaptered fic and i went to go make an account on ao3 bc what self respecting vld fic writer doesnt publish on ao3? but guess what i learned

Y O U C A N T J U S T M A K E A N A O 3 A C C O U N T

so now im going to have to wait until the twenty-seventh so i can receive an invite to join kms but im not mad im actually super psyched.

im doing that orchestra headcannon that i had the other day so theres that

also this is going to be my first long fic that hopefully doesnt crash and burn like my other ones have mostly because im excited to write this one. i think thats the difference. like yeah when i was writing mcr i was excited bc who doesnt love gerard way? but this is the first fic that ive tried to write that im able to relate to completely. with my other long ones i only tried to write something that i thought i would enjoy reading which could have been divided into a few very distinct categories back in the day:

suicidal teen fem boy in distress

mental illness (mostly but not limited to depression and schizophrenia)

abuse (parental or relationship)

questioning gender identity/ gay in an intolerant household etc

or that shit where two people just couldnt communicate and they ended up going round and round through the same tedious problems and its the same plot told over and over and it literally never ended (looking at you amanda todd. After literally was my middle school everything but rereading it is literal torture. i hope your editor straightened that out when you published it oops)

SO thats what i had been working with and like dont get me wrong- it literally was what i was hella into when i was a kid. i loved reading about the fem boy who wanted to kill himself but met the boy of his dreams and flushed all of his blades. those fics about schizophrenia and stuff got me into psychology- something that i am now genuinely interested in majoring in. i still live for that gay shit. and number five was actual shit that i cant stand anymore but thats fine because we all grow up and change and are less problematic pieces of shit who no longer romanticize depression and suicide

(((side bar)))

there is a difference between romanticizing depression, suicide etc. and using it in character development. i am a firm believer in the idea that we can and most definitely should talk about mental disorders in our writing. you dont need to be a medical professional to make a statement on depression, bpd, did, or any other disorder out there. you dont have to be experiencing a disorder to talk about it. hell i dont want anyone to go through that kind of pain man. but its totally important to integrate it into our media. especially today when everyone with a mental disorder suddenly has a thirst for blood and should be detained in mental asylums so they never hurt anyone in our perfect society!!!1!

i believe that society, today especially, has this innate need to separate themselves from anything that isnt conventionally “normal”. they do this by dehumanizing anyone that they dont understand. then pinning them as the scapegoat in many situations

ie recently with mass shootings. instead of focusing on the obvious, literal weapon that is the genuine issue- the news turns focus and immediately- before anything was even verified- states that the shooter was a teen with a mental illness which sparked talk of opening homes to detain and keep “troubled teens” instead of focusing on the problem of the actual weapon that is actually killing actual people.

(((side-er bar)))

no i dont think we should take guns away completely. that would be stupid. in america? that shit would never get passed. but i do think other countries have it right. give people guns and regulate ammunition. anytime somebody wants to buy more ammo, they have to return the old magazine. this keeps people from stockpiling- drastically cutting down on mass shootings like the tragedy in florida

(which by the way i am totally urging everyone in school to participate in the walk out on the fourteenth. im not allowed to because my school will suspend me and i cant do that (mom’s words not mine) but if your school is in support of it or you dont mind taking the risk please please participate in the walk for our lives)

BUT ANYWAY BACK TO THE POINT AFTER A LONG ASS TANGENT THAT REALLY I PROBABLY SHOULDNT TALK ABOUT ON HERE

like i was saying- yeah that stuff was fun to read but it was hard for me to write because i was either dealing with that shit and it hurt to talk about, or i totally couldnt relate to it enough to write about it.

but with this? oh babe orchestra is my everything. ive been playing in orchestras for nine years and the violin for sixteen. if theres anything that i know, its orchestra. and i love it. i want to write my own musical- including writing out all of the music. i fucking adore everything about string instruments (band we have to TALK)

so this is something i enjoy with characters that i love so its going to be good and im super excited and i really hope you guys will enjoy it.

- day

#not langst #literally im just rambling #drabble #ramblings #but im writing so theres that #there might be langst #there will totally be fluff #ive been super fluffy lately #gotta love that soft shit #i hope you guys will enjoy it #i just read shut up and dance with me #its great check it out #but i also want to low key do a huge project like that #like i want to work with an illustrator #to like draw a few scenes every chapter #i thought that was the coolest thing ever #like no joke #so if anyone knows a talented artist looking for some exposure #send them my way #we can start talking #honestly im so excited for this project #i needed something big to occupy my time #also looking for an editor #hit me up if youre interested #i totally should make another post addressing all of this #ill do it later tho #this post is too much as is #especially with the fucking tabs #literally one day #i swear to god

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benjaminhunter · 7 years

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wow dont read this if youre gonna unfollow for me speaking a bit abt my life situation btw even if the whole thing sounds so much like a 15year old narcissistic cunt’s post venting about their emo problems and their ‘i hate my fucking life’ stick like i used to vague about on scattered fanfic french blogs; look ill get over myself ! sooner than you think ! but i havent made a really personal post on this blog in a while cos it felt.. useless and self pitying in the wake of the really upsetting suffering i see on my dash, from the mutuals i consider friends and the political situation that i kinda want to escape from? but even then. that feels self pitying. and also its almost 8 am so no one will see the bs im posting. so anyway an update on my thrilling life ! my moods have been flickering between extreme anger and complete exhaustion ! obssessively checking social medias of artists i really looked up has transformed the feeling of admiration i felt into complete beatdowns of myself, always comparing myself to them and rejecting everything decent i made.. getting angry over ship content for absolutely no reason when ive always been the type to be ‘oh fuck it live and learn’; now my anger is making me feel like im expecting ppl to draw content for a f/f rarepair and when this rarepair is overshadowed by huge het or m/m popular pairs i get pissed off, storm and brood about it, feeling like im a child throwing a tantrum ! so thats fun !!!!!!!!!!! lol !!!!!!!!! all my insecurities flooding back because the dam is damn broke when ive been taping it the best i could over the past years. so im feeling intense jealousy at talented artists finishing their projects and starting new ones, and w/ mikus 10th bday coming up and everything- it feels like when youre following your multiplayer guild’s quest in a mmorpg but with bad internet. theyre accomplishing so much and im. here? what? what achievement do i have for myself? oh yeah. i played dr:ae at least ten times. and yet i still couldnt find the energy to make decent dr:ae fanart. its awful. its terrible ! and my asshole dad feels like he can strut all he want because i chickened out on calling the cops on him that one time and hes been even more verbally abusive, although the good side is hes not hitting me or my sis anymore. i guess pulling a knife on him once when hes done so on me so many times impressed him a bit, yknow, the snake that comes back to bite you in the ass? you reap what you sow bs? yeah. so no more slaps or punches, which is good. i guess he yells more and lashes out at the dog, which is terrible, but he hasnt been a complete ass to the rabbit, mostly because hes too lazy to come upstairs and kick chaussette’s cage or smash stuff off the shelves i guess. still the wifi is Very bad cos obvs my parents are hogging the bandwidth, the weather is bad, my sis and i dont have money to fish out of our purses to go to the pool, the library is closed & friends are either working or on holiday away with their families, also our teacher just confirmed that there will be an entrance exam at the start of year2 and i need to get stellar grades to get into the teacher course,so im wasting my eyes frantically speedrunning japanese grammar basics from year1; while my moms accusing me of being selfish for not wanting to go on a stupid 2week trip when i want nothing to do with her and my dad. my ex’s situation is still hanging over my shoulders, that bitch is still cursing me beyond the grave shes been digging and the shit morons that are her friends are still trash talking me, make ‘triggerd memes ;)))’ about me which is fine i guess :)) at least im not lurking their every tweet & post they do so my head is mostly clear on that, the trick is not to think about it or else it WILL fuck me up.. u got other worries like im worried about getting a job even and im worried about celeste’s job and while i know she definitely can handle herself im afraid of drunks coming into her store, have been ever since i started living with one, so theres that lel.

im glad i got to spend some time with suke and yura and manon before we parted ways two weeks ago, and celeste i ever so sweet.. its been 1 (one) whole year since weve been together although it feels like ive loved her for .. way longer than this so. like if i could get one wish rn, it’d be to get to leap across the ocean so i could be physically close to her and enjoy some time w/ her. get you a girl who gives you butterflies like that, man. shit. wow wow chica bow wow this is long winded and whiny and ill probably regret ever writing that

#shut up paru #text heavy/#grades/

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freerebelmentality · 7 years

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My sisters keeper

AN: Yes, I am still up at 3:02 am and watching Supernatural while Im about to post this SOA Fic. Plus I did some online shopping and feeling pretty good about that. Anyways hope you enjoy this piece I wrote and Take me to church pt3 will be posted sometime this week. I have a few personal things to take care of and other things that need to be taken care of as well.

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Word Count: 2,812

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You and your sister are out doing errands together. At first you were going to pick up the medications that she has ran out of. The pharmacist always gave you hard time because she thought you would abuse them and leaving Carry to suffer.

“Y/n are we almost done here?” She asks coming behind you.

“Yeah, here take these right away” You tell her and open the bottle to take two tablets out

She takes them from you while she takes a sip from her water bottle.

“Im hungry now” Carry says once we step outside

“Lets go to the diner and get something to eat” You tell her while looking on both sides of the street to cross.

Carry looks down the street and notices a group of motor bikes parked down the street. She lets go of your hand while you are on the phone with your boyfriend. Arguing again. She never liked hearing you argue with him.

“You: Travis I am not doing this over the phone with you right now

Travis: If you two are not back here in 5 min”

You hung up the phone, knowing it would be bad when you got home. Just as long as he wouldnt touch your sister then thats all that mattered.

Your sister has a case of down syndrome and a not so great case of fetal alcohol syndrome. When your mom couldnt care for Carry anymore is when you had her move with you to Charming. You never had a problem caring for her since the both of you are more closer.

“Carry, Im sorry” You said while looking to your side but she wasnt there.

You looked into the shop but she wasnt there, ran across to the diner but she was there either and you ran next door but wasnt there. You came out into the street again, hope you would spot her but no where in sight.

“Hey doll face, sorry we arent open yet. Come back tomorrow” A pudgy man with long curly hair and a long beard says.

“You’re in a biker gang right?” Carry asks looking to the bikes

“Its a motor cycle club. You alright sweet heart?” He replies and asks in hopes she will answer.

“Im great. Im just worried about my sister” Carry replies while her expression changes.

“Is your sister in big trouble, the kind of trouble the cops cant handle” He says while the other guys come rolling in.

“Shes afraid to go to the cops” She replies in a hushed tone

“Hey Bobby, and who is this doll face” The cute blonde haired man says

“Im Carry, whats yours handsome?” She replies very cheerfully

“Im Jackson Teller but you can call me Jax doll face” He says as he introduces himself with a wide smile.

“These are my brothers. The man you were talking to his name is Bobby, that one with the tattoos on his head his name is Juice. Theres Quinn, Happy, Chibs, Tig” Jax finishes off introducing everyone to her

“Why is your nickname Juice? Is it because you always have lots of juice boxes?” She asks as her face lights up at the thought of a juice box

Juice tells her it wasnt that reason and asked if she wanted anything to drink. He takes her inside for a cherry coke.

“Whats going on with the girl?” Jax asks while Chibs and Happy stay outside

“She says her sister is in trouble and is afraid to go to the cops” Bobby replies while looking to Carry

“Did she say why?” He asks in hopes he got a little more info from Carry

“Nope, she stopped once you guys came pulling in” Bobby says while looking to him, Chibs, and Happy

“Sounds like spousal abuse to me” Happy says while looking to Carry and her catching him.

Happy plays along motioning what he did and she smiles at him while gesturing him that shes watching him. He gives her a thumbs up.

“Excuse me, have either of you seen this girl? She goes by the name Carry and shes my sister” You come running towards the group of men standing in front of an ice cream shop while trying to catch your breath.

“She’s right inside lass. She is talking with Juicey over there” The man says with a Scottish accent

“Oh my god. Thank you” You let out a sigh of relief knowing your sister is ok

“Im Bobby, Jax, Chibs and Happy” Bobby introduces everyone to you.

“Hi, sorry Im Y/n” You reply while still feeling less intimated

“Really thank you guys so much for keeping her company. If she kept wandering around by herself then she would be taken away from my care. She has down syndrome and fetal alcohol syndrome” You tell the guys.

“She came here and told us you needed help because you’re afraid of something” Bobby says while looking to you.

You had to tell someone and finally get rid of Travis for good. You had to let someone know or else Carry will be taken away for good.

“Shall we head inside?” You ask looking between the men.

“After ye love” Chibs says while holding the door for you.

His accent is what you can get used of and him calling you love. A man like him is what you needed, someone who knew how to respect a woman and knew how to treat a woman.

“Y/N!!!!!!!!” Carry yells your name in pure happiness and gets up from her chair to run into your arms.

“Ouch. Baby girl you scared me, I was getting worried someone took you from me” You tell her while still feeling tender from the other nights beating.

“Sorry, I just want to help. Are you still feeling sore?” She asks in a hushed tone feeling really bad for taking off on you like that but she had every right to.

“I know. Look you sit with your new friends and I will be sitting over here talking with these guys ok?” You tell her as you look to Juice who gives you a thumbs up and a smile.

“Ok. One more thing, see if any of them are single” She says in a hushed tone give you a wink.

“I think you are to young to be dating any of these guys care bare” You tell her while everyone chuckles.

“I know that, not me. You” She says and sits with Juice

“Playing matchmaker already. Well Im married” Jax says as you sit at the booth with him, Chibs and Bobby.

“Whats the problem lass?” Chibs asks looking to you with a sympathetic expression.

You look to him as if his eyes are looking deep into your soul, pleading for you to tell him what is going on at home and thats what made you break. No one has ever asked you what was going on and it felt good to be asked that. Carry hears you break down, she goes to sit with you and she gives you a hug.

“I know but you have to tell them” Carry says in a hushed tone while everyone in the shop goes completely quiet.

You try to contain your sobs but you couldnt control them because of holding in so much for so long.

“Can I tell them?” Carry asks in hope you will allow her. You nod while Chibs reaches across to give you a napkin.

“For as long as I can remember her boyfriend Travis has been beating her. It wasnt bad at first, they would just argue” Carry says while remembering all those nights ago when she first came to live with you.

“Now?” Jax asks as he tries to contain his anger

“As the years went by, it got worse. He would beat her until she wasnt conscious anymore. She scared me a few times when I saw she wasnt breathing” Carry says while you remember those nights.

“She couldnt go to the cops because they would send me back to our mom and she doesnt care for me properly” Carry continues while they understand.

“Why ye are afraid of going to the cops” Chibs finally understands the situation.

“I like your accent, I could get used of that” Carry says while looking to Chibs, he breaks a smile

“Thank you, I could get used of ye as well love” Chibs says while looking to Carry.

“We will definitely do somethin about that arsehole” Chibs adds while everyone in the shop rolls out

“Ye address lass?” Chibs asks looking to you and you had no problem giving him the address.

“Juicey boy, keep the girls while we head out” Chibs says while walking out.

“Got it” Juice says while giving Carry a small smile.

They stop in the drive way, Chibs bangs on the door and kicks the door open.

“Oh Im sorry, where are my manners” Chibs says with a sarcastic tone

Travis gets up from the couch quickly to see which asshole kicked down his door. When he saw the guys is when he plays it cool.

“Its alright, my girlfriends place anyway” He says trying to maintain his fear

Chibs gives him a good punch to the face and sees him go flying.

“Thats how she feels when you hit her like that” He says while towering over him.

Chibs kicks him repeatedly, pulls him up to give him a few punches to the face while Happy and Quinn hold him up. Bobby goes to pack up his stuff and amazingly he doesnt have much around the house. He comes down the stairs and tosses his stuff down the floor.

“If I ever hear ye come around here again, I will be happy to do this again and who knows maybe no one wont find ye. Arsehole” Chibs growls to Travis as he crawls out the door and gets into his car and drives away as quickly as he could.

“Lets get this place cleaned up for the girls” Jax says while looking at the mess they made coming into the house.

Chibs goes into the kitchen and sees pictures of you and Carry. He smiles at how happy you look and how unhappy you look with Travis.

“Where is Carry?” You ask looking to Juice

“I placed her in one of the rooms upstairs where she could rest” He says as he comes back into the shop.

“How did you manage to get custody over your sister?” He asks looking to you.

“I dont have custody over her, my mom does. I havent gotten around to doing that yet. I had her move out here with me a few years ago. My mom doesnt even notice, she was too doped up at the time when I went and got her” You tell him

“Carry’s sister keeper” Juice says with a meaningful smile

“Its more like shes her sisters keeper” You correct him after taking the last sip from your whiskey

“I think it goes both ways. The way she talks about you is like as if you swooped in and saved her. And same with her for you” He says while getting more candy from the counter.

The bikes roll in and Juice looks out making sure everyone came back whole.

“Jerk is gone and some of my guys made sure he stayed away” Jax says once he enters the shop.

“Where is Carry?” Chibs asks looking around

“Shes upstairs a sleep” Juice says while going up to wake her up and take her home.

“Ye are going to ride with me and I’ll have Juicey boy take Carry home” Chibs says while standing in front of you.

“Nice angel wings” Happy says once he notices your tattoo sprawled across your shoulder blades and coming down your arm.

“Thanks comes all the way down my back to and some feathers are fallen” You say while lifting your tank top to show him the fall feathers tattoo.

“Sick, thats how you do angel wings tattoo” He says proudly as he lifts his arm to give you a high five. You return the gesture and smile.

“Y/n Im going to ride on my first motor cycle” Carry says as she comes down the stairs with Juice with a happy expression.

“Me to” You place your arm around her neck and wink at her.

“Is she going to be alright on the bike?” Chibs asks looking to Carry while Juice helps her with the helmet.

“She will be fine, shes going to love the ride” You tell him and put on the helmet

The long ride to your house was a great one, you got to ride with your knight and shining armour. While Carry enjoyed with her new found best friend, you loved how Carry looked. Happy and care free without the thought of anything bad going to happen.

Once Chibs and Juice pulls into the drive way is when Carry hurried off into the house.

“Juicey, mind giving me a minute with Y/n” He asks while patting his back and pointing at you.

“Sure thing brother, take your time. Im gonna say good night to Carry and head back but you can stay behind, Ill tell the others” Juice says while heading inside

“Mind if I say goodnight to Carry?” Juice asks patting you on the shoulder.

“Sure, she went running up stars. Her room is the second door on the left” You tell him with a wide smile. Happy your sister has finally made a friend.

“Thanks” He says with a wide smile and went up the stairs.

“Juicey boy got attached quickly” Chibs says from the door.

“Im happy though, she hasnt had a real friend since she moved here. Travis never let her out of his sight” You tell him while you motion towards the kitchen and he follows.

“I hope ye dont mind me staying, just in case the bastard tries to come back” He asks in hopes you will have him stay.

“Please. I can make us coffee” You tell him and begin making the pot.

“Night y/n and it was nice meeting the both of you. Wish it was a different circumstance but happy Carry came by. I hope to see you and Carry more often” He says with a smile and walks out the door.

“Aye, thanks brother” Chibs says watching as he walks out the door.

You and Chibs talk all night, getting to know each other and surprisingly had the same common interest in music, movies, and had the same interest in classic cars.

When the sun rose is when neither of you noticed until the conversation continued on the couch and just loving each others company. Until the both of you fell a sleep in each others arms laying on the couch. Carry woke up feeling refreshed and when she came down to make herself some breakfast is when she noticed you both sleeping.

She got the spread and covered the both of you.

“I can definitely get used of this” She says in a hushed tone and continued to the kitchen.

Soon after the both of you woke up to a fresh pot of coffee waffering through the kitchen and into the living room. You got up with a happy expression while Chibs had the same. You walked into the kitchen while he followed and you gave him a cup and he poured himself coffee.

“I hate to cut this short but I got to get going. I forgot I have a job to handle” He says finishing the last contents of his coffee.

“Well I hope to see you again soon” You tell him

“Really?” He asks in hopes you would say that. You nod with a smile

“How about we get some dinner tonight? I can ask Juice to watch Carry for ye” He asks knowing he would love to hang out with your sister.

“YES!! Say yes y/n” Carry yells from the top of the stairs while you both chuckle.

“Sounds like a date” You tell him and give him a kiss to the lips. He accepts the kiss and pulls away shortly after.

You watch him leave from the living room window, you see him drive way and just before he makes the turn is when he gave a wave. You felt happy and completely free of the burden and it was a great feeling. You knew that you can be happy with Chibs and he can make you feel safe. You are happy Carry had ran to that ice cream shop, if she hadnt you wouldnt have met Chibs and the rest of the guys. You were thankful towards Carry and happy she is with you. Your pride. Your joy. Your everything. Along with an added benefit in Chibs.

#chibs #chibs x reader #soa fic #sons of anarchy fic #soa #sons of anarchy #chibs filip telford #filip telford #jax teller #bobby munson #bobby elvis #happy lowman #quinn #juice #juan carlos juice ortiz #juan carlos ortiz #tig #alex trager #tig trager

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