#we had a guy who was like full on goth and who would fight like if he were a vampire lord from the 17th century. Ha! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

not okay, m | jjk, myg

full title: I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, ft. jungkook

summary: Jeon Jungkook fucked up. He talked shit about emo girls. Min Yoongi decides he's going to make him take back what he said, make him beg and plead and cry to be touched by the sexiest woman he knows. Never mind that you were a goth in high school and not an emo.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship (Yoongi/you); definitely a scheme to seduce a clueless JK; threesome smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics, m-masturbation + daydreaming, edging / orgasm denial, inappropriate (but wanted) touching in public, a lot of begging, hair-pulling, scratching / marking, thigh-riding, handjob, choking, ball squeezing, restraints, cowgirl, nipple play, handcuff and anal vibrator usage, doggy, little bit of m-receiving oral, finger sucking); tbh Jungkook is a mess, is forced to make messes, and likes it; fluff; shifts from all three POVs; black-haired, sub!JK x noona, dom!reader x blue-haired, dom!Yoongi

yes, there are My Chemical Romance references, I'm aware MCR don't like being considered emo, we know labels =/= how someone truly is; yes, it's PTD (emo for a hot second) JK and Yoongi

"Is that what you think?"

Jeon Jungkook flicked the long black bangs over his left eye, laughing. "Yeah, these are just extensions. I thought it would be funny. I don't actually think this kind of style looks good on me."

A sharp click of the tongue. "No, the other part. About women."

Jungkook blinked, bewildered. Then he slowly remembered, recalling his words. "Oh... I just meant I wouldn't be attracted to a girl with a more emo, edgy style."

The deep voice was sharp and accusatory. "You said it was cringey."

"Ah... well... a little?"

Those pointed, cat-like eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Uh... hyung?"

Min Yoongi frowned and stood up.

"We will see about that, Jungkook."

Jungkook watched him go, even more confused than before.

"Why did that sound like a threat...?"

Because it was.

The next time they went out to eat together, Min Yoongi brought his girlfriend with him. She didn't often tag along. When his friends asked Yoongi about it, he just laughed.

"It's because you guys are too fucking loud."

The few times she did come with him, she was relatively quiet. She had an unapproachable air about her, intimidating in the way that a single eye shift and locked-on attention could cause heart palpitations. Everything about her image seemed far too sleek and refined for everyday life. Her gestures, her walk, her style. Minimalist outfits, mostly white and black. It was obvious that she had a nice body, but none of her clothes implied that she was advertising it, at least when she was hanging out with her boyfriend's friends.

There was one exception.

She always smelled delicious.

Noticeable, addictive, gourmand, always making you turn your head just to smell it again. A hint of ginger to startle, followed by the warmth of marshmallow and the earthly scent of green tea. It blended with her skin, turning warmer and muskier as the evening went on, making you wish that you could smell the bedsheets that laid against that sweet-smelling body later that night.

Very troubling for Yoongi's friends for his girlfriend to smell like pure sex and then gaze at them with such intensity when spoken to, startlingly similar to Yoongi himself.

"Hello, Jungkook. Surprising that you're the only one here."

Jeon Jungkook was so stunned that his brain seemed to cease all functions. He was completely frozen, eyes and mouth wide open, not believing the sight in front of him.

Yoongi?

His hyung was dressed normally. Black cardigan, white shirt, black jeans. His hair was light blue now, a cool-toned, steel azure. The color made his fair skin glow and his dark brown eyes stand out.

His girlfriend?

Her hair was loose and wild, partially covering the left side of her face. Dark eye makeup and dark crimson lips. Large, loose black shirt hanging off one shoulder, with a black leather choker and silver chain that clipped to the button placket of her shirt with a clasp. Her bra strap was obvious, meant to be seen, the delicate lace pattern molding around the top of the cup that was barely visible. The shirt was long enough to cover her ass, belted at the waist with a black leather belt adorned by a silver moon-shaped buckle. Sheer black stockings with seemingly intentional rips and sleek black velvet heels.

"Yoongi said you think emo girls are cringey," she chuckled, looking down at him, smirk on her plump, defined lips.

Jungkook sputtered, feeling his face burn. "N-No, noona, that's not what I meant, I–" He was attempting to restore brain function, but he was rapidly losing blood up top and it was gushing down below.

This had to be the hardest part of living.

"I had to remind him that I was a goth in high school, not an emo. They're slightly different."

She bent at the waist and adjusted the chair before sitting down next to him, giving Jungkook half a second to view her perky tits encased in black lace, her chest smelling so fucking good that he nearly passed out. He jerked his head away, glancing at Yoongi in sheer panic.

The older man gave him a completely blank expression.

Their previous conversation echoed in Jungkook’s head. We will see about that.

"The rest of them aren't coming today. I'm treating Jungkook," Yoongi was explaining.

His girlfriend tilted her head. "I thought you said Hoseok was coming."

"He was, but then something came up."

"Hmm..." She raised an eyebrow at Yoongi. He straightened his cardigan, noticing her discerning gaze, and raised one back.

It was only then that Jungkook realized they weren't sitting next to each other, but on either side of him, boxing him against the wall. Now Jungkook could smell Yoongi too, wearing a spicy, woodsy cologne that mixed with his skin to become warmer and more comforting, except right now it was scaring the shit out of him because he didn't understand why they weren't sitting next to each other.

"Ah..."

He simply pointed to the empty chair in front of him, unable to finish his sentence.

Yoongi looked over to see what he was pointing at. "Hm?"

"You're right, I should move it so the server has easier access to our table."

And she dragged the chair to the side.

"Very considerate of you, Jungkook."

She smiled at him and he swore the proximity was causing his sanity to crumble to dust. He saw her tuck her black purse behind her perky, round ass. It had a small pin on it of a devil reading a book titled, Guide to Eternal Torture.

A cutesy yet ominous image.

At this point, Jungkook realized he was staring at her ass and the raised hem of the shirtdress, revealing the fact that the stockings were thigh-highs. The black garter straps were straining against her juicy thighs as she adjusted her long legs under the table.

Fuck.

He bolted out of his seat, mumbling and stumbling past her, the alluring scent of her perfume enticing him as he squeezed past.

"B-Bathroom, be right back!"

You watched Jungkook run off, clamping his hands below his stomach, raising your eyebrows as he and his tight black jeans sprinted to the bathroom.

"Hm."

You turned back to your boyfriend who was looking at the menu like it was the most intriguing piece of art he had ever laid his eyes on. You stuck your tongue in your cheek and breathed out, waiting for him to continue. Yoongi didn't look up. You didn’t really expect him to. You waited out of politeness.

"How long am I torturing him for?" you finally asked.

"Until he takes back what he said about you," your boyfriend responded dryly.

You laughed, shaking your head. "I don't think it was directed at me specifically. Does he even know that this is what I usually dress like? Or why you always tell me to dress simpler when I come with you to eat with all of them?"

Those dark brown eyes flickered up.

Yoongi's perfect lips curved into a small smirk.

You rolled your eyes. "Of course, he doesn't."

He lowered the menu, raising his chin defiantly as he spoke. "My reason is still valid. You saw how Jungkook acted. He a mess around you."

"I don't ooze sex, Yoongi. You're exaggerating."

He cocked a brow. "I beg to differ. I would wager he's jacking off in the bathroom right now."

He drummed the table with his fingertips, challenging you to bet on it. You waved a hand, dismissing the challenge. Wasn't like you could miss that tent. You circumvented back to the matter at hand.

"Did Jungkook actually say that? About emo girls being cringey?"

Yoongi shrugged. "Something like that."

You frowned. "Really? With his eyebrow piercing and tattoos? And his black hoodie and jeans?"

Your boyfriend went back to the menu. "Projecting, I think you called it?"

Yes, Jungkook washed his hands before throwing himself into a stall and touching his dick.

He wasn't gross.

Would be really great if his dick had calmed down on his own, but her perfume lingered on Jungkook's hoodie sleeve, just the faintest trace on his left arm, and he pressed it against his nose, inhaling.

Fuck, why does she smell so good?

His right hand was undoing his pants, his eyes and fingers closing in, focusing on his throbbing erection fighting his underwear. Maybe if he just touched it on the outside, it would be fine...

Her face popped into his head, complete with the little quirk of her eyebrow.

Nope.

Jungkook shoved his hand into his boxer briefs and pushed them down, teeth biting his hoodie sleeve so he could smell her perfume as he stroked his cock, feeling somewhat dirty about it, but mostly violently horny. It wasn't like he could stop his brain. He couldn't go out there with a massive boner either, so he had to do what he had to do. It was only a few thoughts anyway, thinking about her thighs under the table and wondering how they would feel wrapped around him, wondering if she would let him rip those stockings off and bite those delicious legs, wondering if he could undo that belt and unwrap that body and press his nose against that sweet-smelling skin and taste it with his tongue, planting kisses over those beautiful breasts with her hand around his cock instead of his own, pumping him to her unforgiving pace, forcing him to moan into her skin, abusing his stiff length with her tight grip and expansive strokes, his hands gripping her soft thighs and his whines saturating the air, pleading, begging her to let him cum.

Would she edge me?

His hand abruptly stopped.

Jungkook used every ounce of willpower to avoid whimpering into his own sleeve.

His whole body was achingly tense, screaming at him to finish, but he refused, shoving his whole face into the thick fabric and breathing hard, clenching his jaw and his twitching cock, imagining her pretty face with a smug, sadistic smirk, those dark lips teasingly telling him he could finish inside her.

"What are you doing?"

The pale hand dance in the air, beckoning the waitress over.

"Ordering."

You tilted your head. "Jungkook isn't back yet. You should wait for him."

Yoongi shrugged. "I know what he likes." His gaze flickered to you. "Meat."

You narrowed your eyes. Yoongi gazed back, unfazed. You knew that look. You knew how to read between the lines. To everyone else, Yoongi was a 3D puzzle with a million pieces, but to you, he might as well have been a children's picture book.

The side of his lips quirked upward, so faint you would have missed it if you weren’t looking for it.

He did have very nice pictures in his book. You'll give him that.

You ticked your right eyebrow so subtly that no one caught it but him. He, too, knew that to look for. His smirk grew, pleased at your wordless communication.

You were dating a real troublemaker.

You smirked back as the waitress arrived at your table, apologizing for keeping you waiting. One look from both Yoongi and you, and she nearly dropped her notepad, fumbling with the pen, cheeks flushing pink.

Trouble did tend to find trouble.

Jungkook had determined he hadn't done anything wrong. He didn't actually orgasm in the bathroom stall thinking about Yoongi's girlfriend while smelling her remaining perfume on his clothes as the said couple sat in the restaurant, awaiting his return.

Well.

Now that he mentally described it like that, it did sound kind of fucked.

Crap.

He saw a blob of black in his peripheral vision and looked up to see Yoongi's girlfriend stride past him, fragrant-smelling hair drifting behind her, his head turning automatically to follow the sight, entranced by the movement of her hips and hair, only to find her glancing back at him, foxy smile dancing on those dark lips.

He swore she mouthed his name.

Maybe even said it?

Jungkook blinked and she was no longer looking in his direction, heading to the women’s bathroom and rolling up her sleeves, clearly going to wash her hands.

He was seeing things.

Yes.

Just horny and delusional.

"I ordered the beef plate for you. If you don't like it, we can order something else."

Jungkook looked down at the streaming, sizzling platter of seared beef and vegetables, feeling his stomach growl as he sat down.

"No, hyung, this is great. Thank you."

"Hm, that's good. You can start eating, I'm going to wash my hands."

Yoongi began to stand up, brushing off his pants. Jungkook jerked his head up, seeing the older male push his chair back, light blue hair falling over his forehead.

"Um, h-hyung?"

"Mmm?"

Those dark brown orbs flickered to him.

"Er..."

Yoongi tilted his head.

"Erm... why is noona here? I thought you said… you were just treating me to a meal...?"

Yoongi tilted his head the other way, slowly, unreadable expression in those cat-like eyes.

"I am. I'm paying today."

He raised his head and smiled. Jungkook tore his eyes away from Yoongi to see her weaving through the crowd to make her way back to the table, silver chain hanging from her black choker glittering in the overhead restaurant lights, exposed shoulder and collarbone a stark contrast to her all-black outfit, body shape so exquisite that it wasn't only Yoongi and Jungkook watching her walk. Many pairs of eyes followed her wake, some shy, some unabashed and brazen.

"Besides, she is a treat, isn't she?" Yoongi purred.

She had made eye contact with Jungkook and her lips curved into a small, amused smile.

Any response he had to Yoongi’s words died in his throat.

"Too bad you think that style is cringey, otherwise you might have had a shot, Jungkook."

You sat back down as Yoongi waltzed off, gesturing to his hands, leaving you with the Korean equivalent of Steve Rogers from 1943 to 2011, complete with what you presumed to be a very nice ass if the rest of Jeon Jungkook was anything to go by. Ah, well, you trusted genetics. Surely nature would have blessed Jungkook with a good booty. You looked over to him. He wasn’t moving.

Wasn’t even blinking.

You snapped your fingers in front of his face and Jungkook started, jumping in his seat, his wide brown orbs shakily shifting to you. You made eye contact and he quickly looked away, swallowing hard.

Come on, surely, it's not that serious.

Jungkook ran a hand through his short black hair and snuck a glance at you. Or, more specifically, your chest. Ah. Was that it?

"Something wrong?" you asked, picking up your chopsticks.

"N... No...?"

You had to smile. Jungkook didn't even sound like he believed himself. You pointed to your collarbone.

"Too much?"

His brown orbs shot up. Silence. You locked eyes with him, keeping him in place. You witnessed his inner struggle now, trying to decide between what he thought was the right answer and what his instincts were telling him.

"Aren't you... uncomfortable, noona?"

You chuckled, picking up a piece from your pork belly dish and blowing off the steam. "Me? Of course not. People stare at me all the time. Might as well dress how I want." You dabbed the extra oil off on the side of the plate and brought it to your lips. Your eyes flickered to the younger man. He was still watching you, his own lips parted, wispy black strands over his forehead, accenting his dark brows and the silver bar piercing on the right side. Poor guy. Jungkook really picked the wrong man to project to, the one whose girlfriend never grew out of her goth phase.

You brought the meat close to your mouth.

Let your tongue snake out for a millisecond between your open lips.

His eyeballs nearly fell out of his head.

This is too easy.

You placed the hot meat into your tongue and closed your lips around it, chewing slowly, maintaining eye contact.

Not speaking.

Yoongi was surely overreacting to something Jungkook probably didn't think too much about before saying it, but that was fine with you because Yoongi told you to cause some trouble. You liked causing trouble. That's how you got Yoongi. Trouble attracted trouble. Still, he had something planned. You could tell. Maybe even guess.

You smiled at Jungkook and he gulped so loudly you could hear it over the sizzling meat.

Otherwise you might have had a shot, Jungkook.

What did that mean?

Jungkook was having a mild panic attack throughout the entire meal, even when Yoongi suggested they get beers. His girlfriend was driving, so only he and his hyung drank as they ate. They barely talked. Jungkook’s brain was too busy trying to break down the meaning of the mysterious phrase, replaying Yoongi’s words over and over.

You might have had a shot.

A shot at what?

What, exactly?!

Jungkook snuck a glance at Yoongi’s girlfriend and she was looking back, cocking an eyebrow when they made eye contact. He flinched and peeked at Yoongi's expression. His hyung was chewing his beef slowly, staring into space.

Have had a shot.

Maybe Jungkook needed to do shots to be a normal human being at this point.

"You're pretty quiet today, Jungkook."

His dick twitched in his pants.

Jungkook threw one thigh over the other and mashed his dick between them.

"Ah... sorry..." he mumbled, fixated on his beer glass.

Yoongi rapped his forearm with the end of his chopsticks. "Look at people when you talk to them."

Jungkook swallowed and looked up at her. "S-Sorry, noona."

She tipped her head and frowned slightly. "Is there something wrong? Did I say something to make you upset?" She looked apologetic. "I'm sorry if my presence is ruining your time with your hyung."

He jerked his head to said hyung. Yoongi prodded at something in between his teeth with the end of his chopstick and gave Jungkook a confused look, as if to say, what are you looking at me for?

"Um... no," Jungkook finally said, shaking his head and turning back to her. "No, noona. I'm glad you're here. It's really nice to see you."

"You're barely looking at her."

His ears burned at Yoongi's dry remark.

She perked up, pointing to her collarbones. "Is this bothering you? It's too much, isn't it?" she chuckled, jingling the chain on the choker and making his dick jolt between his clasped, jean-covered thighs. "You really don't like this style, huh?"

Jungkook darted his eyes to Yoongi, who pointedly stared back, giving him zero context clues except for reminding him of what he said before the meal.

A shot.

“Uh, that isn’t it, noona. Ah, actually…”

Jungkook chewed on his lip nervously, focusing on her instead of Yoongi. She turned her body, giving her full attention to him. He couldn’t tell if that was better or worse. The guilt ate away at him. Minutes passed by. So many, in fact, that it was getting awkward. His neck was on fire, his ears were red-hot, he was pretty sure his cheeks were flushed, and not from alcohol, yet he still he couldn’t say shit to those dark eyes and crimson lips, trapped by the gaze of the woman in black, feeling like he just booked himself a room in the Hotel Bella Muerte.

“Are you okay, Jungkook?” she asked, shadows of an amused open-mouthed smirk on those lips.

Was he?

“Er, yeah… I’m okay,” he croaked, coughing to clear his throat.

Yoongi snorted.

Jungkook shook his head quickly, letting out a small growl of frustration. “Actually, no, noona, I’m not okay.” He rubbed his forehead and exhaled hard, biting his lip as he faced her questioning expression. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said the style you’re wearing is cringey, because it’s not. It’s really not. You look amazing. You always have, but you look extra cool and sexy today and I feel really bad saying something like that because I should have thought about how other people could look and pull off that style, but I didn’t, I was only thinking about how stupid I looked when I was fifteen and I assumed–”

Her hand shot out and she pressed two fingers to his lips, silencing him.

“Shh,” she hummed, fully smirking now. “You assumed and thus you got yourself in trouble, didn’t you?”

She’s touching me!

Jungkook jerked his eyes to Yoongi, who was nibbling on his last piece of steak and ignoring Jungkook’s panic. He added a bit of the sauce and popped the meat in his mouth, chewing slowly. It was like she and Jungkook weren’t talking at all or, rather, Yoongi wasn’t concerning himself with it.

Her fingers slid down, pressing into Jungkook’s lower lip.

He very nearly made a noise, quickly darting his gaze back to Yoongi’s girlfriend.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

Why was she saying his name like that? Like… like she was sexing it with her tongue or something? Oh, shit, he was going crazy. He had to be. It was all in his head. She must be saying his name normally. Had to be. Yoongi’s girlfriend? Flirting with him? No, no, absolutely not. And certainly not in front of Yoongi. Even if his hyung was pretending to be deaf, he was definitely not deaf. Yoongi was the kind of guy who would smack a stranger looking at his woman funny.

This?

It was all in his head.

Her fingertips slid to the side of his lips, tracing the shape.

R… Right?

“You think I look extra cool and sexy today?” she mused, licking her lips.

Jungkook could smell her perfume off her wrist. Sweet, musky, seductive. His thighs were so tightly clasped together that Jungkook was pretty sure his dick was pointing straight down with how erect it was at the moment.

“Ah… w-well… a b-bit…?”

Clink!

Jungkook yelped as cold water flew into his lap, immediately spreading his legs as the glass tumbled onto the tabletop. Yoongi swiftly stopped it, sighing exaggeratedly.

“Ah, my bad, that was quite clumsy of me…”

“Shit, Jungkook, are you okay?”

Her fingertips left his lip and he could finally breathe, only to squeak sharply as hands planted firmly onto his thighs and crotch, bunched-up napkins dabbing the excess water away, quickly soaking it up with the paper.

“You should be more careful Yoongi, sheesh…”

“Sorry, Jungkook, here, take these.”

Jungkook vaguely registered Yoongi saying her name apologetically as well, but at the moment he was not okay, very not okay, he promised this was the most not okay he had ever been in his entire life as Yoongi’s girlfriend mopped up water from his inner thighs and crotch, molding her hands around his dick, yes, his actual straining hard-on was being touched by her hands and it was getting harder by the fucking second, her hurriedly wiping the water off, acting like this was completely normal and not like his cock was trying to rip out of his pants.

“Ack, noona, w-wait…!”

He tried to sit up and Yoongi’s hand came down on his shoulder, holding him in place.

“Good idea, get under his ass just in case.”

Jungkook nearly blacked out as her napkin-covered hands slid under him and cupped the inside of his legs and bottom half of his ass, patting around. Her palms cupped his balls for a hot second.

He was fucked.

Utterly fucked.

Jungkook whimpered in his throat.

Her hands immediately stopped.

She looked up at him, very serious. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

Jungkook shook his head from side to side so quickly that his vision blurred. “Yes.”

She shared a glance with Yoongi. The older man sighed and stood up, squeezing his shoulder as he leaned down to Jungkook’s ear.

“You want her to keep touching you or not?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened, jerking his head to Yoongi. Those dark brown orbs looked back at him, demanding the truth.

“I didn’t spill that water for nothing.”

It was only then that it dawned onto Jungkook.

This was a set up. He was being set up. His hyung had set him up.

This whole fucking thing was a set up.

We will see about that, Jungkook.

She was cleaning his seat off and gently tapped his thigh. “It’s dry now. I think you’re okay.”

Jungkook decided that he really did not care about being set up. He did not give a single shit that he fell for it wholly and completely like a gullible idiot. He whipped his head back to Yoongi’s girlfriend, who was sighing ruefully, giving Yoongi the side-eye, muttering under her breath so only they could hear.

“What do you think he’s gonna do, Yoongi, ask to fuck me?” she hissed, placing the wad of wet napkins onto the table.

Too bad you think that style is cringey, otherwise you might have had a shot.

Jungkook’s hand shot out and squeezed her thigh.

“Can I fuck you, noona?” he breathed, chest tight.

He dug his nails into the sheer stocking, ripping new holes.

“If hyung lets me?”

"Yoongi, what are you thinking?"

Your boyfriend smiled. Very nonchalant. Nearly innocent. You knew better. This was Min Yoongi after all. His cardigan was off now. His broad shoulders in the white t-shirt were very distracting. Actually, so were his arms, now toned and more defined. Yoongi had recently taken an interest in working out.

His smile turned into a smirk. "What?"

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. You noticed movement under you and smacked Jeon Jungkook's hand down so he was no longer picking at the peach fuzz in his face. He gasped in surprise, but you ignored him, completely focused on your rather troublesome boyfriend.

"You can't be serious."

You felt fingers brushing against the hem of your shirtdress, playing with the edge of the fabric. Yoongi was kneeling behind Jungkook, who was sitting on your bed, and the younger man was now messing with your outfit as you and Yoongi continued your conversation about him.

Your boyfriend leaned down and placed his hands on Jungkook's jaw, laying down his deft fingers one by one, lifting that chiseled chin up, those wide brown eyes now looking at your face, paired with the amused, cat-like ones.

"I am serious," Yoongi murmured. "You should teach him a lesson."

You pursed your lips. "He already apologized. That's enough."

Yoongi tilted his head, clicking his tongue.

"No, it's not."

Your eyes flickered down and you raised an eyebrow at Jungkook's interruption. "What was that?"

He gulped under your stern gaze. "Um..."

Yoongi smiled pleasantly, removing his hands from Jungkook's face. "See? He wants it."

"He's your friend, Yoongi. We're going to have to see him in person later. You want him to be horny every second he's around me?"

Yoongi placed his palm on the crown of Jungkook's head, drumming his fingers slowly. Light blue strands curled around his dark brows and eyes, playful smirk on his shapely pink lips. His deep voice was a low, alluring drawl.

"He already is."

Jungkook nodded very fast to agree. He was trying to hide the keen excitement in his eyes by not speaking, but his eager expression was giving him away as Yoongi slowly chipped away at common sense. You grabbed Jungkook's chin and squeezed, holding him in place. His breathing hitched in your hand, small whimper of your name leaving his lips.

"Don't look at me like that," you scolded.

"Like what?" Jungkook asked with shaking eyes and a small pout.

You kept switching from Jungkook's to Yoongi's eyes because if you looked too long into those pleading brown orbs, you might actually crack. You spoke slowly, emphasizing each word.

"Like you're desperate for it."

A low, dangerous chuckle.

Your gaze fixated on Yoongi. He was about to do something.

His long fingers worked into that short black hair and yanked back, making Jungkook gasp and shiver as he was pulled from your hand, your name falling from his lips in a breathy moan as his eyes continued to watch you, waiting, needing, begging.

"P... Please, noona..."

Yoongi's grip tightened in those black locks, Jungkook whimpering at the roughness, his own hands clutching your shirtdress, tugging at it.

"I'm telling you to do it," Yoongi purred, smokey and dark, staring into your eyes.

Jungkook was pulling your shirt now, pulling you to him, getting you to straddle his lap, you glaring at Yoongi's smirking face the entire time, annoyed that he put you in this position, and yet you knew something of this nature was coming the second he pulled you aside earlier today and asked you to dress the way you normally did because he was going to take you out to eat with Jungkook and Hoseok. Jung Hoseok already knew about your eccentric fashion sense and, while it did spook him a little the first time, he often sent you links of clothes that reminded him of you. You didn't think much of Jungkook being there. He was the youngest and Yoongi often treated him to a nice meal, although usually without you.

"Unbutton the top more."

Yoongi had adjusted the exposed shoulder himself and handed you the leather choker.

"Wear this one."

You had given him a skeptical look. "You suiting me up for some kind of mission?"

Yoongi had smiled mysteriously.

"We're going to make Jungkookie's life a living hell and he's going to like it."

Apparently, Yoongi's mission was to tempt and torture Jungkook until he was mildly insane and then subsequently draw out the younger man’s ravenous desperation so that Jungkook was now clawing at your thighs and whimpering under you, trying to get you to fuck him, shuddering every time he attempted to raise his hands and Yoongi punished him by yanking at his hair in warning.

"She hasn't said yes yet. No higher until she says yes," Yoongi snapped, not taking his eyes off you and your body.

"B-But..."

You slapped a hand down on Jungkook's mouth and squeezed harshly, digging your nails into his cheekbones.

"Shh. I'm thinking."

You closed your eyes.

Breathed out.

"You know the only hope for me is you, right?"

"That's a little dramatic, Yoongi."

Those dark brown, cat-like eyes glittered, full of mischief.

"You always play along with my ideas."

"They're all very good. You are a genius."

You loved the way Yoongi smiled at you, endearing and sweet with a hint of cunning cleverness. He liked to invent new ways to keep your life interesting. Being with Min Yoongi was never boring.

"I doubt you'll be able to shock me though. I've seen it all." You, too, enjoyed challenging him and being challenged. That was part of the fun.

That's why you carried on with his black parade.

Yoongi chuckled. "Mmm, famous last words."

“Don’t let him move.”

His veins were on fire, chest shuddering as his head was pulled back, back, his spine arching to an almost uncomfortable position, but he didn’t care, only feeling pleasure as she leaned down, hovering over his body, her hand on his mouth, gasps trapped on his tongue while her own extended from those dark lips, down, down, her other hand grabbing a fistful of his hoodie and yanking down the neckline.

The tip of her tongue touched the space right between his collarbones.

She removed her hand.

Jeon Jungkook moaned, hot and wanton, sinfully right in front of Min Yoongi’s face as Yoongi’s girlfriend licked up his throat, tracing his Adam’s apple and scraping her teeth against it, before sliding up to his chin, stopping right before his lips.

Exactly where the mole under his lower lip was, tip of the wet muscle unmoving.

Those sharp eyes shrouded in black eyeshadow and dark eyeliner looked down on him.

“Please, n-noona…”

He didn’t care if he was being pathetic, tearing at her stockings with his fingernails, unashamedly imploring for more.

She didn’t speak. Yoongi spoke for her.

“Please what?” his hyung murmured, massaging his scalp slowly.

His cock was so hard that it physically hurt being trapped in his jeans like this. Any sanity he had left was being obliterated into pure, unadulterated lust. Jungkook didn’t care anymore about right or wrong. Whatever they let him have, he would take. He would beg and plead and cry if he had to. Whatever it took.

He whimpered, his thighs tensing with need.

“P-Please fuck me…”

I want it.

I need it.

I crave it.

She raised her tongue and flickered it over his lips. He moaned, shaking, his hands dropping from her thighs, reaching between his own legs and rubbing his painful erection through the zipper of his jeans, nearly sobbing as Yoongi’s fingers tightened, nails raking at his scalp.

“I can’t t-take it anymore… please… whatever you want to do, just do it, please, please touch me, I can’t s-stand it, I’m so h-hard…”

She pressed her knee down onto the back of his hands and Jungkook whimpered, so aroused that even that felt good, simply knowing she was applying the pressure, his balls suffocating a little against the center seam because of how thick and stiff he had become.

“Are you a little bit of a masochist, Jungkook?” she whispered, licking his lower lip gently.

Instead of answering right away, he pulled his hands out from under her knee and pressed it down onto his aching cock, his eyes rolling back and moaning deeply, forcefully raising his hips up, slightly pulling on his own hair in the process.

“Hyung, noona, please…”

The friction was almost painful, but the leaking pre-cum had soaked into his underwear, the slickness rubbing against the head, the added pressure of her knee slightly crushing his erection being his own self-inflicted pain that only added to the pleasure.

Jungkook gazed at her with half-lidded eyes, shuddering.

“Destroy me more.”

Min Yoongi liked to watch his woman work.

She was the best, she knew she was the best, and she only got better the longer she was with him. Of course, he loved her working him most. But Yoongi also enjoyed keeping things interesting. Being an assistant to the master was just as fun. And besides, they had a much more equal power dynamic and that’s what they liked.

But Jeon Jungkook.

He pulled Jungkook’s hoodie off, taking the shirt underneath with it, bare chest exposed to sharp black nails that immediately sent Jungkook into a spiraling mess of moans, falling back as those dark lips attacked the tanned skin, leaving marks all over that muscular body. Yoongi placed a hand under that sharp chin and pressed the younger male’s head to his chest.

He liked this too, this power.

Yoongi pressed his fingertips into Jungkook’s chin and raked his nails over that quivering throat.

He didn’t expect anyone to understand how or why he operated the way he did. He only needed one person to understand and she was currently yanking off Jungkook’s jeans and black boxer briefs with vicious vigor, throwing them aside before climbing off his lap.

Yoongi placed his hand over Jungkook’s eyes and wordlessly took his sight.

He liked the sounds Jungkook made. Needy, desperate, and strikingly beautiful. He had a wonderful quality to his voice, pouring all of his emotion into it. Nice cock too. Very hard, very red, a good length and girth. Yoongi chuckled, amused at the younger man’s eagerness. He lowered his head, whispering into that ear with three quivering silver hoops.

“So cringey, isn’t it?” he taunted.

Jungkook whined in his hands, trembling tone saturated with apology. “I’m sorry, hyung, I’m so sorry, I take it back, I didn’t mean it, p-please believe me...”

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw his woman remove her panties and step out of them. Stockings and garter belt stayed on though. She had style. He smirked, humming softly to mask her movement.

“You don’t have to say sorry to me.”

He removed his hand and she dropped her bare pussy onto Jungkook’s naked thigh.

Wet, hot, and sweet.

“Oooh, fuck…”

He lifted his head, eyes hazy and unfocused, greeted by the sight of Yoongi’s girlfriend straddling his thigh and rubbing her pussy all over him, the scent of her perfume mixing with the scent of her sex, thick and delicious and intoxicating, her soaked opening flexing against his hard muscle, driving him insane, disappointed that she was still mostly dressed.

“Noona…”

Jungkook reached for the belt at her waist, expecting Yoongi to stop him, but he didn’t, letting Jungkook unbuckle it, his hands shaking badly from the pleasure of her pussy touching his naked skin. The gentle slap of her thigh against his balls and cock not enough. He wanted to be touched, but those scrutinizing eyes indicated that she would touch him when she wanted and no sooner. It was making him lose his mind, but he loved it, moaning her name deep from his chest as he struggled to undo the small buttons, flinching and shuddering with her movements.

“I’m sorry, noona…” he gasped, staring into those sultry dark eyes.

She reached up and touched his lips, tracing the shape with her nail, sending shivers all over his body.

“You gonna watch your mouth from now on, Jungkook?” she murmured, trapping him with her gaze, turning the shivers into brimming electricity.

“Y-Yes, noona…”

He undid the last button and she swiftly removed her hand from his mouth and smacked his away, shrugging out of the shirtdress and tossing it to the floor before reaching down to her ass. She opened her mouth and her tongue snaked out, shiny with saliva, using her hands to spread her ass and pussy, squelching down on his hard, tense muscle.

“A-Ah, so good…”

And now he could feel more, the inner lips of her pussy now rubbing on his skin with her clit, slick and slippery, muscles of her opening constricting and relaxing on his thigh, an indescribable feeling, sensual and dirty and raw, the control so precise that her smug expression and upper body remained relaxed, hips still moving at the same rough pace.

Yoongi’s fingers tangled in his hair again, husky voice at his ear.

“Put the fingers of your right hand in her mouth.”

Jungkook obeyed as if spellbound, raising his hand and dipping his fingers into that waiting mouth, her warm tongue wrapping around them and coating them with her saliva, pink muscle gliding between his joints and dancing around his tattoos, spit dribbling down his palm and dropping in fat plops onto his crotch, his body flinching at the contact, unashamedly whimpering his want, Yoongi’s dark chuckle filling his ear.

It must have looked so dirty.

So wrong.

“Take them out.”

Jungkook removed his fingers with a sniffle, the coil in his core so tight he thought he was going to explode.

“Touch yourself.”

His cheeks burned at the thought of his own hand wrapping around his cock in front of two people, adrenaline and thrill burning his veins.

“B… But, hyung…”

“You touched yourself in the bathroom at the restaurant earlier, didn’t you?” that deep purr accused, pulling at his hair, prickling pain shocking his scalp.

“I…” His hand lowered. “I h-had to… noona is just so…” Staring into those heavily shadowed eyes, tongue licking those dark-stained lips, his saliva-coated fingers wrapping around his aching, taut cock, so close to sobbing at the relief of being touched that his voice cracked a little. “So sexy… and she smells s-so goooooood…”

Eyelids fluttering, Yoongi rapping his shoulder, telling him to look at her, telling him to appreciate that hair cascading over her left eye, those breasts cupped perfectly in that black lace bra, that garter and stockings barely encasing those juicy legs and her pussy sliding up and down his thigh, her hands spreading her ass wide so he could feel it as he punishingly and roughly pumped his cock, trembling all over, struggling to get his words out, cheeks burning with embarrassment as he explained but, for some reason, he wanted to explain and became even more aroused by it, relishing in knowing that she was listening intently to his confession.

“You always smell so, so good, noona… I t-touched myself w-while smelling your perfume on my clothes… T-Thinking about you and my hands all over your perfect body and your hands t-touching me…”

Fucking his hand harder, tighter, faster, slipping down, down, knowing what he was going to say next, driving himself to that point, the coil inside causing every muscle to tense, staring right into her eyes, knowing his pupils were blown-out and unfocused.

“T-Touching me like I am right now, abusing my c-cock and… s-stopping right before I c-cum…”

So close, so close, so close, please, please, please…

Her hand shot out and gripped his wrist painfully, forcing him to let go of his cock.

Jungkook cried out in vain, jerking his head forward and bringing tears to his eyes from the pain of Yoongi’s unmoving grip, tugging at his own hair, the sudden denial causing his cock to twitch and slap against her thigh, smearing pre-cum and saliva onto her soft skin, knowing that he wanted it, sinfully satisfied in how perfectly frustrated she made him, reading his signals and torturing him just right.

A merciful, skilled devil in disguise.

The hand left his hair.

Her hips slowed, sitting onto his thigh, an almost unbearable weight that he welcomed.

“Jungkook.”

His head lolled, scalp stinging, staring into her eyes and loving the way she said his name, like her tongue was wrapping around it and caressing it, each syllable drenched with curated possessiveness that was meant just for him.

Yoongi’s fingers snaked around his neck, four fingers fitting under his left ear, thumb pressing onto the pulse just under his right ear.

“You want to finish inside me?” she exhaled, hot and heavy and addictive.

The grip on his neck tightened, pressing on the blood vessels leading to his head.

One of her hands was still on his wrist. The other reached in between his thighs, past his stiff, purple-red cock. Fingers wrapped elegantly around his balls, joints locking, keeping him in a vise-like grip of pure power without adding any unnecessary pressure.

“Y… Yes, please…” he gasped weakly.

The grip of his wrist vanished. He was getting lightheaded, fighting to keep his eyes on her, and her free hand was now finally encircling his cock, finger by finger, making him wait, squeezing his balls a little harder, fuck, her touch, a distinctly different hand and different power, gently stroking his throbbing length as Yoongi choked him and she pulsed her grip around his balls, his breath leaving in shallow gasps and not only from the thinning circulation, but the flashes of pain and the constant pleasure of her hands and her wet pussy flush against his thigh.

“What if I make you cum like this?” she murmured, leaning in, Yoongi pressing in between his shoulder blades and pushing him to her beautiful face, dark and sultry and captivating, her lips now close to his.

“O… Okay…”

It took all of his willpower to hold himself up with his hands.

“You can do whatever you want to me, noona,” Jungkook whispered thinly. “I mean it.”

Yoongi pet his sweaty hair, pushing it away from his forehead, squeezing his neck tighter.

Jungkook choked out her name, desire so potent that he saw something in her eyes flicker. She liked it. She liked him and what she was doing to him and his reaction to it. It gave Jungkook a special kind of high, the kind of arousal that transcended past the sex.

Jungkook couldn’t get out anymore.

He knew he would crave this feeling, the feeling of power in powerlessness.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

Jungkook’s first kiss with Yoongi’s girlfriend was her forcefully jacking him off as she squeezed his balls and Yoongi choked him, his tongue sloppy and lips quivering, her sucking on it and making him moan with his tongue trapped in her dark lips, his hips twitching and shooting thick strings of cum all over her thigh, his thigh, and the sheets, suddenly slingshot into oxygen when Yoongi let go, adding to the high, his eyes rolling back, shivers racking his body, pleasure so intense that he felt nothing else, absolutely nothing but her touch, her hand leaving his balls and wrapping around his waist, pulling him to her body, her kiss stealing his breath, her cum-covered hand sliding up and down his abused cock.

Jungkook inhaled.

Her perfume invaded his nose, marshmallow sweetness, warmth of green tea, spark of ginger, and he was drunk, drunk on submission, sex, and their power over him.

Yoongi loved everything she did.

The way she looked at him.

The way her body moved.

The way she leaned over and kissed him as he pinned Jungkook’s wrists over his head while she was riding the younger man’s cock with a bruising, intense pace, her tongue curling around his, moaning softly into his mouth, lover to lover. With every moment, Yoongi fell more and more in love, addicted to orchestrating the perfect scenarios for his woman to completely ruin someone else.

She broke the kiss.

What a brilliant, satisfied, killer smile.

“O-oh, fuck, so good, fuck, your pussy is s-so good…”

Yoongi sat back and watched her hands slide over Jungkook’s chest, gripping his shoulders and fucking him hard, watching her pretty pussy clench around that cock that was begging for that tightness and that torture, the younger man rolling his hips up with every descent, destroying himself further.

The squelch and slap of skin to skin was audible, loud, and so, so sexy.

Her fingertip flicked the bottom of Jungkook’s chin, smirk on those plush lips now smeared with dark lipstick. There was something erotic about the mess though, her wild hair bouncing with every thrust, faint dark smudges now on his lips and Jungkook’s panting mouth.

“Aren’t you the perfect little fucktoy?” she teased.

There was a tension in her jaw, indicating that she was clenching around the younger man’s cock.

“A-Ah, just f-for you, noona…”

She frowned playfully, cocking a disbelieving eyebrow. “Hmm, I don’t know, sweet boys always have sweet tongues and you’ve already proven yours sometimes says misleading things…”

Jungkook whimpered. “P-Please, I s-said I was sorry… I m-mean it…”

Yoongi liked this begging, this desperate tremble vibrating from that silvery voice.

“I would n-never do something l-like this…”

Jungkook had such a handsome face, even with his cheeks flushed red and his composure falling apart.

“Unless it was y-you… and Yoongi-hyung, oooh, God…”

He raised his eyebrows, making eye contact with her.

She smirked back, dangerous and perfect.

“I-I can’t...”

“Yes, you can, Jungkook,” you murmured, arms around his neck, his arms shaking as he held himself up, moaning as you stroked his back, Yoongi behind you, still fully dressed, kneading your breasts, your nipples poking out between his long fingers and giving Jungkook the visual of your cleavage and the hard nubs poking straight out at him.

He groaned, hazy brown orbs returning to your face.

“Please, wanna make you cum with my cock so b-bad…”

You began to rock your hips again, the brief intermission stalling his orgasm over, and now he was moaning again, squirming at the oversensitivity and strained by the denial, your pulsing pussy keeping him hard until you built the pace up again, pushing him to the edge once more.

“Look at you,” you murmured, caressing his neck and back, fingers splayed over his hot skin. “You dream about this, Jungkook? Dream about hyung letting you be noona’s fuck slave?”

His teeth sunk into his lower lip, whining in his chest.

“I-I’m sorry…”

“Shh…”

Your fingers slid up into his hair, cradling his head, smacking your ass down onto his thighs, tightening around his cock. Jungkook moaned into your face helplessly, shuddering at your sensual gesture contrasted by your fierce thrusts.

“I wanted you too,” you whispered hotly, breathing in his clean scent. “You always looked so innocent. Made me want to mess you up every time I saw that handsome, nervous face of yours.”

Your grip tensed around his head, lower half really giving it to him now, bouncing on his cock, letting his thickness and his hardness fill you up over and over again, Yoongi pinching your nipples and rolling them between his fingers, following your rhythm.

“It’s not going to be enough for him, you know,” Yoongi chuckled darkly behind you. “He’s going to come crawling back, begging for more.”

Jungkook bit his lip again, looking from you to Yoongi, already guilty.

You leaned forehead, placing a light kiss on that mole below his lower lip.

“I love it when you beg for me, Jungkook,” you purred.

You could feel it, arousal flaring at your own words, already close and getting closer, pussy pulsating around that satisfying girth.

“Are you going to be patient?” you teased, tugging at his hair, savoring the strained moans from Jungkook’s throat. “Are you going to wait on your knees and watch Yoongi fuck me until he’s satisfied and then come to take his place and show me that you can be good for me too?”

You felt Jungkook’s cock twitch inside you, already enthralled with the idea.

“Y-Yes, noona, p-please…”

Fuck.

You dug your nails into his scalp and moaned deeply, staring into those glazed-over brown orbs, drugged on his lust for you.

“You’re so obedient, fuck, makes me want to cum on this pretty cock of yours and reward you.”

Yoongi pinched your nipples and tugged on them.

The spark collided through you, gasping as your orgasm seized your senses and took over, your eyes rolling back as the powerful jolts made your walls spasm, tension so high that it felt as if your nerves were vibrating, Jungkook’s name tumbling from your lips with a hiss that turned into a groan in unison with his, his overstimulated cock jerking and twitching from the brutal massage of your orgasm, the condom swelling inside you from spurts of his own.

The scent of sex was so strong that even Yoongi moaned, squeezing your breasts roughly.

“F-Fuck…”

You inhaled sharply, feeling Yoongi’s arms wrap around you, nuzzling your neck.

“Don’t I have such good ideas?”

You grinned, seeing Jungkook’s euphoric expression before he pitched forward and leaned his forehead against your other shoulder, panting for breath. His exhale was warm, drifting over your racing heart and heating your heated skin.

“Yes, Yoongi,” you chuckled, stroking his soft blue hair and Jungkook’s sweaty black hair. “You’re a genius.”

"Jungkook-ah!"

"Sorry, Jimin-ssi, I can't–" He clenched his jaw, stifling the noise threatening to escape from his throat. "I can't hang out today. I have a deadline for work."

"Aw, that's okay Jungkookie. Do you want hyung to bring you some dinner? I can stop by!"

"I already ate, ah, just now. Thanks anyway."

"Okay, okay, I'll leave you alone. Don't forget your hyungs! You work too much."

Jeon Jungkook made an affirmative grumble. "Talk to you later."

An elegant finger reached over and hung up the call. The same hand lifted his phone from his ear and placed it back on the nightstand. Jungkook wasn't able to hold the phone himself.

He was handcuffed to the headboard.

"A-Ah, noona, fuck!"

Now that he was off the phone, she turned the toy back on, making him yelp and squirm. He whimpered, thighs shaking as his prostrate was assaulted with harsh vibrations, the connected silicone ring choking his cock and balls, flush against the base of both.

He moaned her name helplessly, looking down to see her laying between his legs, jerking forward with every smack of Min Yoongi's hips. His hard, dark red cock was sticking straight up right in front of her face. She heated it with her calm exhale, smiling at his shuddering whine.

"P-Please, touch me, o-o-oh, fuuuuuuuck..."

Yoongi smacked her ass with his open palm, making Jungkook moan at the sight of her ass bouncing from his hyung's dick.

"F-Fuck, please, noona, hyung, please, I wanna c-cum so b-bad..."

She increased the vibration setting and patted his thigh, returning to casually fucking Yoongi as he lost his mind from the jarring, rough pleasure, flexing his core and ass to make his cock jerk and swing in the air, unable to touch himself because of the handcuffs.

He loved it.

Jungkook loved every second of the torture crafted just for him.

"What a good boy for his noona."

Jungkook could only moan and whimper in response.

"Mm? Are you a good boy for her? Lying to Jimin so you can spend more time with my lovely woman?"

The younger man whimpered, biting his lip.

“H-Hyung…”

Yoongi smirked as Jungkook’s eyes rolled back, mouth open, gasping wail falling from his mouth as her tongue circled the head of his cock, lapping gently at the sensitive skin. The handcuffs rattled, Jungkook’s hands gripping the chain, tattoos standing out on his arm from his tense muscles. Yoongi watched her hands side up those toned thighs, up shaking hips, up to that slim waist, then drag back down, nails pricking at that skin, creating indents and red lines, visible, wet, glistening tongue toying with the throbbing cock in front of her.

He felt his own twitch inside her. Her muscles clenched around him tightly in response.

She lifted her head, gripping Jungkook’s hips and forcing him down on the bed, him whining and pleading for her to do more, but all three of them knew the way this was going to go and the one in the handcuffs wasn’t calling the shots.

“You keep coming back, Jungkook, and it’s gonna ruin sex for you.”

Her hand slid up his abused cock and balls, playing with them and rubbing the overstimulated skin as Yoongi increased his pace in power and speed, fingers spread out on her hips and sinking in, mirrored by the way she removed her hand from Jungkook’s length and grabbed his hips again, cocking her head, looking down at Jungkook.

“You keep flying high and you’re not going to want to come down.”

Jungkook’s black hair was all over his forehead, messy and sweaty, shudders leaving his swollen lips. The light caught the glint of the silver metal piercing on his trembling eyebrow.

She leaned down, hands crawling up his body, digging her nails in, scratching him up, and Yoongi hissed at the shifted angle, deeper now and more intense, her hair cascading down her shoulders, the sweet scent wafting up, sweet, warm, spicy, his favorite scents in the world melding together.

Sex.

Perfume.

And his woman, a curator of the little, beautiful death.

She chuckled, taunting and playful, placing her forearms on Jungkook’s chest, pushing back against Yoongi and using the other male’s body as leverage, poised in front of Jungkook’s fallen composure, one hand lifting and tracing his lips, enticing that pink tongue to sneak out, begging for a taste.

She shoved her fingers into his mouth, humming approvingly as Jungkook began to suck on them noisily, moaning around her fingers as the rhythm escalated, louder and louder, squeezing his length tighter so Yoongi had to thrust harder, growling in his chest, firmly gripping her ass, faster, rougher, her fingers sliding in further, the wet sounds of tongue and lips adding to the symphony.

Her words the crescendo.

“The jetset life is gonna kill you, Jungkook.”

The fire flared to an unbearable tension and Yoongi hissed her name, clenching his jaw and scratching her back hard, causing her to let out a long, drawn-out moan, clenching around his entire length and he came, cock jerking against her punishing walls, shooting his orgasm into the condom, his fingers sliding down her back, groaning satisfyingly when she matched him, her cum gushing out and sticking to his crotch and thighs, sweet purr of his name drifting out of her lips, her fingers slipping from Jungkook’s mouth, shiny with saliva and wiping it all over his chin.

“O-o-oh, fuuuuuuuck, please…”

And she didn’t forget, not even in her ecstasy, her hand wrapping around Jungkook’s neck, choking him strongly, driving him to the edge.

It took seconds.

Your lips curved into a smirk, Jungkook’s shaking, half-lidded brown orbs saturated with lust, vibrations and visuals and now the loss of blood leaving him breathless, lightheaded, and at your mercy.

Open mouth, gasping out your name.

Then he threw his head back, airlessly screaming, handcuffs rattling, muscles standing out all over his body from the searing tension, tattoos glistening with sweat, eyes rolling back, hips jolting up and shooting cum all over your stomach and his, orgasm so intense that he arched his back and jammed his cock between your bodies, your hand releasing him, Jungkook sobbing at the relief of his aching length still flinching and twitching, the hot head of his cock throbbing against your skin, still dribbling out hot cum in between your bodies, thick and slick.

You slithered on top of him, smearing it everywhere.

“Oh, God, n… noona…”

“Asleep already?”

You petted Jungkook’s head, smoothing his hair. “He had an eventful night.”

Yoongi chuckled. “He asked for it.”

Jungkook scooted closer to your heat, burying his nose in your chest, inhaling deeply.

Yoongi kissed the top of your head affectionately and you reached for his hand, running your fingertips over his knuckles. He placed it on your bare hip, tracing his marks on you.

“So, next time…”

“You’re already planning next time, huh?” You turned your head to look at those mischievous, cat-like eyes shrouded by strands of wispy light blue.

Yoongi ticked a brow. “Do you think he’s going to stop? I made him wait a whole month from the first time to this time and he gave me puppy eyes every chance he got.”

You shook your head with a smile, turning back to run your fingers through Jungkook’s black hair. “I wonder how you survived.”

“I looked away.”

You snickered and lifted Yoongi’s hand, pressing his fingertips to your lips.

“I would make him look away from me,” you murmured, low and dangerous.

“Hmm, then I’ll let you decide when next time will be.”

“Not counting tomorrow morning, right?”

“Of course.”

You felt Jungkook’s lips press onto your skin, a soft kiss inviting you and Yoongi to destroy him more.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #yoonkook x reader #yoonkook smut #bts smut #jungkook smut #yoongi smut #jungkook x you #yoongi x you #yoonkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you

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dreamwritesimagines · 3 years

Text

Twisted 19 - Chasing Silhouettes [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood.

Word Count: 3800

Summary: Truce can be inevitable.

It was safe to say that you were officially off your rocker after the break up. Stress? Check. No sleep? Check. Getting drunk mid-day? Check.

Looking a serial killer in the eye and threatening him?

Also check.

The constant anger was gone though. That blinding fury was gone, the fear was gone, the only thing you felt was numbness. It was as if you were watching everything happening around you from behind a glass, it was there but you couldn’t touch it or feel it.

With one exception; you missed Spencer each and every minute of the day, so you at least knew there was something left inside of you that wasn’t broken. But after what had happened, it wasn’t like you could call him. You had already left him multiple voice messages whenever you got too drunk anyway, and you were sure he had deleted them without even listening.

Not that you could blame him. He had already told you he wished he had never met you, and there was nothing you could do to change that.

“You guys will get back together,” Kenzie assured you like the hopeless romantic she was, “This is just temporary. I just know it, it’s like me and Mina. You can’t stop true love.”

“I doubt Mina ever told you she never loved you,” you stated, exhaling the smoke of your cigarette. “Or that you told her you wish you had never met her.”

She stole a look at Mina who was waiting for your lattes by the counter and turned to you.

“Well alright, maybe you and Spencer are having a more intense fight than we did, but—“

“This is not a fight, Kenz. We broke up.”

“You broke up with him,” she corrected you, “And you’re still in love with him.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you shrugged your shoulders, “I burned that bridge, okay? After this whole case is over, he will want nothing to do with me—hell, he wants nothing to do with me right now and I don’t blame him.”

“Okay,” Mina said as she came to your table and handed you your latte before sitting down, “What are we talking about?”

“Her and Spencer.”

“Yeah no, fuck that guy.”

Kenzie gasped, “Babe!”

“Kenz, he’s in the FBI, okay? He was there when they brought her into that interrogation room.”

“He wasn’t there when they took me to the station.”

“Fine, he came later on but did nothing to stop his beloved team from hounding you.”

“Mina, he was in another room.”

“You can’t possibly believe he didn’t know what was happening in the interrogation room,” she insisted and Kenzie pulled her brows together.

“Wait, didn’t you say he was the one who called you? For the lawyers and everything?”

Mina shrugged, “Yeah, so? That was just because this one,” she pointed at you, “Was too much of an idiot to ask for a lawyer. What, did you never watch a movie? You always ask for a lawyer.”

“But think about it, it means that he was trying to protect her from that whole interrogation process before he even landed,” Kenzie stated, “He knows how that whole thing goes, he made the calls, he gave his professional opinion to the police, he sent his team because they wouldn’t let him in there, it wouldn’t surprise me if he thought they’d go easy on her.”

You held the warm cup in your hands, listening silently.

“Or he just wanted to play the nice guy so that he could manipulate her more.”

You pulled your brows together, “Dude, he’s not manipulating me.”

“Not right now.”

“Not ever,” you said, “That’s not… that wasn’t the reason. Kenzie has a point, he was trying to get me out of there with minimum damage, and he knows how the system works.”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly why you need to talk to him and explain—“

“Enough people got hurt because of me,” you cut Kenzie off, “Died, even. It would destroy me if it was him, okay? Me staying away is better for him, at least he will stay alive.”

Mina scoffed, “Not that your heartbreak is not important, but I need to bitch at you before I forget,” she said, “How could you not tell me Nolan was planning to propose mom?”

Kenzie smiled, “I think it’s sweet.”

“I think it’s a fucking disaster.”

“Oh come on,” you murmured, sipping your coffee, “You’ve seen them together, haven’t you? It’s bound to happen, he’s head over heels and mom can’t stop talking about him.”

Mina let out a whine, “I’m a good person,” she murmured, “I give to charity and stuff, I don’t deserve this.”

“You’re not ten years old you idiot, a stepfather will not disturb any dynamics you have.”

“He will though!” she protested, “To repeat, he is basically my boss, okay?”

“He’s a lot of people’s boss.”

“Yeah, do you know what people will think when I finally make partner?” she asked you, “That my brand new stepdaddy pulled some strings.”

“Please don’t call him stepdaddy, that’s just disturbing.” Kenzie made a face and Mina heaved a sigh.

“How are you so okay with this?” she asked you and you tilted your head.

“Mina, there’s a killer who’s going after people I know and making sure I see that,” you started, counting with your fingers, “I’ve been drugged at my own apartment—in my own bedroom only to find my ex boyfriend’s dead body in my kitchen. I’ve been accused of murder, been handcuffed, interrogated and broke up with the love of my life. The last past week, I got maybe five hours of sleep and oh, before I forget, I also threatened our original serial killer father with death just a couple of days ago. Does it look like I’m in the right mental state to worry about getting a new stepdaddy?”

“To repeat, can you guys stop calling him stepdaddy?”

“What did you tell him when he asked for your blessing?” you asked and Mina rolled her eyes.

“I told him that mom is a grown woman,” she said, “She doesn’t need our permission to do anything. If she wants to get married to the guy who has apparently loved her for decades… who am I to say no to that?”

You tilted your head, “You were nice?” you asked in disbelief, “You’re never nice.”

“Eh, I have my moments.”

“What’s the real reason?”

Mina pointed at Kenzie with her thumb, “She said to be nice.”

“You’re so whipped.”

“You are seriously going to sit there and call me whipped when you’ve been wailing for the last month, miss I shall suffer forever after my lost love even though he was two seconds away from handcuffing me and not in a fun way?”

“He wasn’t-“

“Both of you are being too cynical about Nolan,” Kenzie interrupted you and grinned wide, “I mean come on, doesn’t it make you believe in love all over again?”

“It makes me want to get booze because I’ll never have that, Kenz,” you murmured and she pulled her brows together.

“Oh don’t be like that.”

“Kenz he was the love of my life and I lost—“

“I’m leaving if you start crying into your latte,” Mina deadpanned, “And please don’t say that you’ll plan Nolan’s proposal or God forbid, their wedding.”

“My client list is full.”

She let out a laugh, “You realize we all know that’s your favorite excuse when you don’t want to accept a client, right?” she asked you and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I think I’ll sit this one out,” you said and checked your wristwatch, “Well, I gotta get back to the office, I have this meeting and then I have two other meetings with these new pastry shops.”

“Hey, brat?” Mina stopped you as soon as you stood up and you tilted your head.

“Yeah?”

“You’re okay, right?” she asked, “Besides this whole mess?”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to smile, “I’m not but I will be.”

“Will you?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I mean I have to, right? There’s not much of an option there.”

Mina looked like she wanted to insist, but Kenzie squeezed her hand, silently telling her to drop it before you made your way through the street to approach the building your office was in. You nodded at the security guards then got in the elevator and pressed the button.

When the elevator got to your floor the doors opened but your assistant rushed to you as soon as you stepped outside

“Y/N, hi! You haven’t been answering your phone.”

“Shit, I forgot it on silent,” you murmured and checked it to see five calls from her, “Five calls? Erica, did you guys catch fire or something?”

“I was actually thinking maybe you would want to come to the balcony with me, you know, to get some fresh air before your meeting?”

You pulled your brows together, “What’s going on?”

“We didn’t know if we should call you or left them downstairs but…” she said, making your heart skip a beat.

“What is it?”

“Remember the time you said you were allergic to jasmines?”

You could feel the goosebumps rising on your arms, “Yeah?”

She pointed at something over your shoulder and you turned your head, your breathing catching up in your throat as someone opened the glass door to go outside.

There was a bowl full of jasmine flower petals but you could still take the overly sweet scent. Bile climbed up your throat as you walked through the door to approach the reception desk, and as soon as you saw what was in the middle of the petals, the room started spinning.

A vial of blood.

“Are you dating like a goth guy?” Erica asked as you took a step back, the walls closing in on you.

“Call the FBI,” you gasped as you rushed to the balcony, desperate for air, “Now.”

***

Panic attacks were a big part of your childhood, and even if you weren’t completely unfamiliar with them as an adult, they still managed to take you by surprise.

It took you nearly an hour to pull yourself together. An hour of sitting there in the balcony, your knees drawn up to your chest as your mind desperately searched for something to focus on, something to hold on to.

Some happy place.

By the time FBI had gotten there, your makeup was smudged around your eyes due to the excessive crying, your whole body was shaky and you were so exhausted that you could barely will yourself to get up and walk to your office.

The jasmine scent still clung to the air though.

You didn’t even have any energy to keep your eyes open, your whole mind wrapped in that numb haze that kept pulling you deeper and deeper into the absolute nothingness as you sat there on the couch, multiple agents coming and going into the office, into the reception, into your floor.

Dr Tara Lewis, Spencer’s coworker had given you a small bottle of hand lotion so that you could take in a scent other than those flowers before she had shot you a sympathetic smile and left your office to talk with the reception.

Even raising your hand to wipe at your nose with the tissue balled up in your palm felt way too tiring for you, but you wiped your nose, your eyes still fixed on the wall as the glass door to your office opened once again and footsteps came closer.

You didn’t even have to raise your head as Spencer approached you before he knelt down to look you in the eye.

“Hi.”

You blinked a couple of times, “Hi,” you sniffled, “Is it okay if we don’t do this today?”

He raised his brows, “Don’t do what?”

“I’m too tired to fight,” your speech was almost slurred at this point but you pulled your brows together, forcing yourself to focus as much as you could. “So can we do that tomorrow please? Like truce for a day?”

He offered you a tight lipped smile, “I’m not here to fight,” he said gently, as if trying to pull you back to the reality without scaring you, “Truce for a day works for me.”

You picked at the crumpled tissue in your hand, “Thank you.”

“Do you think you can talk to me though?”

You nodded silently, wiping at your nose again. “Yes.”

“Great,” he said, his calm voice washing over you, “That’s good. What’re you thinking about right now?”

“I’m thinking…” you tried to put your thoughts in order, “Tara gave me a peach hand lotion, can you give it back to her after you’re done here?”

“Sure,” he said, “That’s a good thing to focus on. What else?”

“It’s not my dad,” you said, “My dad wouldn’t dare to fuck with me, not after- it’s not him.”

“Tell me something other than the case.”

You willed yourself to concentrate on his handsome face, “Do I look like a horror movie corpse right now?”

He scoffed a chuckle, shaking his head. “You look beautiful Y/N. You always do.”

“The only person who’s a bigger liar than you is that makeup artist that told me this eyeliner was waterproof.”

He reached out to tilt your chin up so that his hazel gaze could study you better, and even in your numb state you could feel the warmth spreading through your body with his touch, “How long have you been awake?”

“I dozed off for like an hour last night,” you murmured, “I have this new apartment but I can’t sleep in my bedroom because I keep thinking there’s some noise coming from the kitchen, like… like it’s going to happen again. It’s impossible though, there are like five different locks on that door, someone would have to come with a battering ram to open the damn thing but I still don’t feel safe enough to—to sleep.”

He thought for a moment, “You can’t sleep because you don’t feel safe,” he murmured and you heaved a sigh, your head dropping before you forced yourself to raise it again, making a face.

“I’ve never tried peach lotion before, it smells nice…” you mused, your gaze fixed on the wall while the black spots flew in your vision “Have you ever tried it? Also hypothetically speaking, what happens if you eat lotion? Like do you think—“

“Y/N,” his clear voice shot through the haze again, “Sweetheart, look at me.”

If you weren’t too goddamn tired, the pet name would make you snap out of it and even give you a spark of hope, but you could barely concentrate on what was happening.

“Can you do something for me?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, anything.”

“Lie down.” he said and you pulled your brows together.

“Why?”

“We’ll try something,” he said, stealing a look outside to the reception crawling with agents before turning to you as you curled up on the couch, still holding the tissue tight in your hand, your eyes getting heavy the minute your head hit the small pillow.

“What are we trying?” you managed to ask through the fog and he smiled softly.

“Close your eyes, for thirty seconds,” he said, “Just focus on your breathing. I’m right here, okay? Can you do that for me?”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, counting in your head.

You didn’t even reach fifteen before the sleep surrounded you.

***

You were pulled away from the bliss when someone shook you by the shoulder gently.

“Y/N,” Erica’s voice reached you, “Y/N, wake up.”

You opened your eyes groggily, frowning. It was already dark outside and there was nearly no one in the office except for her and you. You attempted to sit up but stopped as soon as Spencer’s cologne filled your nostrils and you looked down at the jacket covering you.

He must’ve left his jacket on you while you slept in order to keep you from getting cold.

You could feel the small spark of peace shooting through you, the warmth spreading through your veins as you hugged the jacket tighter around your body and cleared your throat.

“What time is it?”

“Eight,” she shot you a small smile, “Um, everyone left and I figured you’d get a stiff back if you sleept on the couch any longer.”

“Erica,” you said, “You didn’t have to stay.”

“Come on, I wouldn’t leave you here alone after today,” she said, “Besides, I told that tall handsome agent that I’d drive you home. His team was called back to the FBI, some clue or whatever.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, I’d be a lousy assistant if I didn’t.”

“No, I mean—“ you swallowed thickly, “Thank you. It means more than you know to me.”

She grinned at you as you grabbed your purse and both of you made your way to the elevator.

“So I take it there’s no goth boyfriend but…” she said as the elevator went down, “Maybe a tall handsome flirt?”

“We broke up,” you murmured and she scoffed.

“Yeah no.”

You blinked a couple of times, “Erica, I’m pretty sure we broke up. I was there—“

“No I mean,” she huffed while you left the elevator to approach her car, “I have a talent to sense these sort of things you see. He doesn’t look at you like you broke up, and that jacket over you certainly doesn’t say you broke up.”

You got in the car with her and she started it.

“Is it because of your dad?” she asked you and your head shot up.

“What? How did you-?”

“It’s a small office, people talk,” she said as if apologizing, “But don’t worry, we all know that’s not the kind of person you are. I even had a fight with my boyfriend about it, but I told him that I knew you, you would never be able to do something like that. He was like you don’t know what people are capable of and I was like well...”

You were way too tired to answer her, so you let her talk about the time how she was great at sensing people’s true motives and how her boyfriend thought you were capable of murder while you sat in her car as she drove you to your place. You thanked her, your mind still fuzzy with sleep and made your way to your apartment.

After checking if all five locks were in their places and counting them in your head, you kicked off your heels and made your way to the fridge to get the bottle of whiskey. You took a swig of it and went to the couch, turning on the TV and leaning back to the soft cushions. You slowly took the jacket off and pulled it over your body, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent.

Maybe you could just imagine that you two were together, just for tonight.

You managed to distract yourself for a couple of hours, just sitting there and staring at the TV, barely paying attention to what was playing. By the time it was midnight, you had reached the half of the bottle and looked down at your phone for a couple of seconds before finding his name in the contacts.

You didn’t have to wait for long, and for once it didn’t go to voice mail.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” you smiled, “Um… is the truce still on? Or should I— should I hang up?”

“No,” he said almost too quickly, “No, don’t. We have today, don’t we? Might as well use the truce until the end.”

“Okay,” you whispered, “Thanks, by the way. For today. I can imagine how hard it is for you—“

“No,” his voice was soft, “No you really can’t.”

A silence fell upon you and you grabbed a tissue, wiping at your eyes,

“Professor?”

“Hm?”

“What does science say about heartbreak? Hypothetically speaking?”

“About heartbreak?”

“Yeah.”

He cleared his throat, “Considering the stimulation that increases dopamine and-“

“In a way that I will understand while I’m half drunk?”

“Addiction.”

You pulled back to look at the phone, “Addiction?”

“You know the areas of your brain that are active when you’re in love? Those areas are also active when you use…well, you name it. Cocaine. Drugs. Nicotine.”

“So that means heartbreak means-“

“Withdrawals,” he finished your sentence for you, “Exactly.”

You grabbed another tissue from the box on the coffee table, wiping at your nose.

“Spencer, what if it goes on like this forever?” you rasped out, “This whole heartbreak. What if I feel like this forever? What if I… What if I’m like seventy and I still—“

Love you.

“Miss you,” you changed your mind mid-sentence, “What if I’m old and gray and still using your jacket as a blanket?”

“That’s what you’re doing right now?”

“Yeah,” you murmured, “Pathetic right?”

“I recorded that show you liked and still can’t bring myself to delete it,” he admitted, “I don’t even watch it, it’s just there. You sure you want to talk about pathetic with me?”

You let out a bitter laugh, “Nah, still no competition professor. I still call you whenever I’m drunk, remember? You’re handling this way better than me, you still have your dignity.”

“I saw a fridge magnet in a store a week ago and I actually walked in there to buy it before I remembered I couldn’t give it to you,” he paused, “I’m not handling anything, Y/N. I’m a mess, it’s like…”

You held your breath, waiting for him to continue.

“You took something with you on your way out,” he said slowly, “And I don’t know what to do with what’s left, to be honest.”

“My chest actually hurts when I see you, you know?” you murmured, “And I still haven’t deleted the pictures.”

“Me neither.”

You picked at the tissue in your hand, “So much for Dante and Beatrice huh?”

“All things considered, they’d handle it worse than us.”

“I doubt anyone could handle it worse than us, professor.”

“No think about it,” he said, “We had….we had each other, at least. They didn’t technically lose each other, because they were never together.”

“It’s still romantic.”

“Dante saw Beatrice twice in his life,” he told you, “Once when they were nine, once when they were both adults. Twice in his whole life. Ignore the poems, what would you do if a guy you saw when you were nine showed up years and years later, proclaiming his undying love for you?”

“Call the police?” you said, making him chuckle.

“There you go.”

“When you put romanticism aside, Beatrice should’ve gotten a restraining order.”

“They didn’t have those back then, Y/N.”

You let out a small giggle, “Yeah yeah…” you murmured, “So what does that mean then? We’re more tragic than Dante and Beatrice?”

He sniffled and cleared his throat, “Yeah,” he said, “I think that’s what it means.”

You could feel the tears burning your eyes, “It’s not going to get easier, is it?” you croaked out after almost a minute of silence and he thought for a moment.

“I don’t think so,” he said, “Not for me anyway.”

“Not for me either,” you murmured and wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand, burying your nose to the collar of his jacket draped over you.

If you closed your eyes, maybe it would stop hurting this much. You touched your screen to get to your gallery, then found your picture together, both of you smiling at the camera, unaware of the heartbreak that would hit you both very soon.

“Good night Dante,” you whispered and Spencer exhaled a shaky breath, as if he was craving the addictive high of your presence as much as you did his.

“Good night Beatrice.”

Chapter 20

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagines #twisted #spencer #reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader #criminal minds

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reidgraygubler · 3 years

Text

out of the ordinary (chip taylor/reader)

Title: Out Of The Ordinary

Request: no

Couple: Chip Taylor/Fem!Reader

Category: smut/angst

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (penetrative sex, fingering, oral (fem), sex while someone is injured, breeding kink, groping, praise kink, multiple orgasms, hair pulling), swearing, blood and other bodily fluids, graphic descriptions of violence(!!!!), mentions of sexual acts, 68 Kill Spoilers, mentions of a dead partner, mentions of drugs (unknown), guns and gun violence, talks about kids (in the very far future),

Word Count: 9,562

Summary: Reader works at a hotel where she sees a lot of things out of the ordinary… Including a man running across the parking lot wearing nothing but a small towel around his waist. If only she knew her day was about to get weirder

A/N: day three of what might have been the biggest mistake of my life. But i had fun! Idk how april does it bc i was struggling. Anyways, here is some chip smut. I didn’t edit this too super well, so please pardon any of the editing errors/grammatical issues. The next ones will/are beta’d and edited… thank you so much for sticking with me on this! Tomorrow is something i had a lot of fun writing! Here is the masterlist for 7days 7fics! And here’s my main masterlist! Thank you all for the love and support!

{***}{***}{***}

I wish that even though I lived in a small town, in the middle of butt-fucking nowhere, I would see normal things. You know? Things that happen in small towns in the middle fucking nowhere. But, because it’s in the middle of nowhere, and the highway goes right through the middle of our town, we get a lot of… interesting guests. Which makes my job a little entertaining, sometimes.

Sitting behind a window at a tiny, run-down hotel early morning to mid-afternoon was what I did for a living. 90% of the time I spent my time just sitting there, reading a book/magazine, messing around on my phone, or working on an assignment for my class. That other 10% is checking people in or out of their rooms.

My day was so close to coming to an end. 11:30… I just needed to be here for one more hour, and then I can go home and go to bed. And, surprisingly, nothing weird had happened. It was a successful day, praise the fucking Lord or whoever is watching down.

Until, I jinxed myself…I thought I had hit the one allotted out of the ordinary thing for the day. That was until, as I was finishing up this essay, and I heard something from out in the parking lot. When I looked away from my laptop to investigate. And what I saw was not what I was expecting, at all.

A tall man was running across the parking lot, coming right towards the check-in/out window. Now, you might be wondering why this was out of the ordinary. Well, you see, he was running across the parking lot wearing nothing but a face washcloth around his waist. Let’s just say it left little to nothing to the imagination.

“H-hey! Hi,” he spoke, coming right up to the counter. I was more than happy that there was a counter and window between the two of us. I’m happy he was attractive, in all sense of the words. He was very attractive. “Do… Do you have a phone… That I could borrow?” he asked, looking at me with actual worry and terror in his eyes and face. I stared at him with a raised brow.

“What happened to the one in your room?” I moved away from my laptop and leaned on the counter beside it. He looked over his shoulder at the room he stayed in. I cocked my head to my shoulder and stared at him. “What room number are you?”

“Uh, that… That doesn’t really matter? Um, I’m running late,” he cringed as he looked back at me. I blinked slowly before looking down at the clipboard with the most recent check-ins.

“Sure,” I looked right at the last name and noted the time he checked in, “Mister Delacroix?” I slowly looked back at him.

“Chip,”

“Well, listen, Chop,” I paused my words as I walked over to the door to let him in. I was just happy he didn’t correct me when I called him the wrong name. I could have corrected myself, but I was just annoyed that I’d probably have to take care of the mess in his room.

“The owner’s son texted me, telling me that the people in your room had a rager last night… So, if I have to go clean that room and see cum and piss all over the room, and a coke tray on the counters, I’m charging you double,” I looked up at him as he entered the office. He was a lot taller standing in front of me. I don’t know why I thought he was shorter. Maybe its because he was standing on lower ground and I was inside.

“I… Rager?” He stared at me with a confused crease in his brow. I stared at him before slowly nodding. “Do… Do you know who came over? Do you know who it was?”

“I… Uh, I’ll have to ask the owner’s son. But, by the sounds of it, it was a little rough. I’m surprised you’re still up and walking without a limp,” I chuckled. I slowly looked up and down his body, taking in how he looked. He was slightly muscular, and though he had abs, his tummy was slightly pudgy. Which I could get with. I could appreciate a bit of a tummy on a guy like him.

“Listen,” he started, his words showing more urgency than before. I looked up, away from his body and at his face. It was probably his urgency that got my attention because I definitely almost went a little lower than the towel. “I need to know-Do you have any clothes? This is slightly distracting,” he looked at me. I wasn’t too sure if he was talking distracting for me, or for him. But I do agree, it was very distracting.

“Uhm,” I furrowed my eyebrows as I pulled my stare off him and went to look for the lost and found box, “There’s not much in here, but I’m sure there’s something,” I glanced at him as I placed the box on the counter.

“Right, thanks,” Chip looked at me before going to dig around in the box, “Do you know who came to my room last night?”

“I think… Hold on,” I muttered before rushing to the counter, shuffling some papers to find a random sticky note with some sloppy hand writing, “Christ, I forget he doesn’t speak english,” I shook my head as I stared at the writing. “Some goth chick and her boyfriend, or whatever. Uh, yeah, he told me about it this morning before he left. Like, 6 other people I think,” I swallowed roughly and shook my head, “It sounds like they roughed the place up?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” he looked away from the box for a brief moment. I watched as he pulled out a white and red t-shirt (that was left behind by a group of younger women) and a pair of sweat-shorts. “Great, now I gotta go back to that fucking gas station. Fucking fuck,” he muttered to himself as he dropped the towel to the ground. I widened my eyes and couldn’t help but stare at his ass.

“Gas station?” I asked, keeping my eyes on his body as he turned to face me. That was when I got a view of the full frontal package. I swallowed roughly.

“Are… Are you going to turn around?” he looked at me with nervousness in his eyes as he held the pants and shirt close to his body, lower towards his crotchal region. I smirked, raising an eyebrow and cocking my head to the side.

“Nope,” I looked up at him with a smile. When I noticed that he wasn’t going to move to get dressed, I dropped my shoulders before turning around.

“Which gas station are you talking about?” I asked, looking at the ground. I wasn’t entirely sure why I asked which gas station it was he was talking about. There was just one gas station in the whole town, and I knew he was in a bit of trouble.

From behind me, I could hear Chip muttering strings of profanities to himself. Part of me wondered if he needed help with anything, or if I was just a disposable person in his day. Probably the latter.

“The one down the street,” his voice was low. I wondered what he was thinking about and what his urgency was all about. “You can turn around. Can I use the phone,” he asked as I turned to face him. I looked at him and held back a laugh. Which, in turn, earned a glare from him.

“Yeah, yeah, you have to dial 1 before the number you’re calling,” I went to move the phone closer to him, nearly pushing/pulling everything off the counter.

“Thanks,” he looked over at me before picking up the phone and dialing his number. I watched as he turned away from me. He wasn’t on the phone for very long, and it didn’t sound like it was a good call.

“I… I gotta go. Can I use your car?” Chip asked as he looked out at the only car in the lot. I followed his gaze at my shitty 2001 Saturn. I furrowed my eyebrows before looking back at him.

“I can just give you a ride, you know… And, it’d probably be better if you had a partner with you. That phone call didn’t sound good… At all. And, no one will take you seriously dressed like that,” I nodded at his attire. He looked down at what he was wearing before looking back at me. “Back up just in case? No one will notice I’m gone,” I let out a dry laugh.

“It’ll be dangerous,” he looked at me with worry in his eyes. I shrugged before looking at the ground.

“I could use a little danger in my life,” I laughed before looking back at him, “I’ve been sitting in this stupid office, doing this stupid job since I was 16. The hundreds of people I’ve seen is crazy. This job is boring, I need something risky.” I explained when I noticed he needed more information.

“You could die,” he pointed out. I shrugged like it was no big deal.

“I could die just sitting here. Let me help you,” I stare at him with wide eyes. He looked at the ground and sighed. I could tell he wanted to fight with me, to get me to stay. But I could also tell he really needed help, and really needed to get out of this stupid town and state.

“Fine, you can come. But, you can’t ask any questions,” he pointed at me. I smiled before closing my laptop and grabbing for my car keys.

“Fine, let’s go,” I looked at him before pushing past him and leaving the office.

Chip was close behind me, still muttering to himself. From what I did hear, I heard the number 68,000 and then the word dollars. 68,000 dollars??? And he’s in a shit town like this?! What the fuck? What the fuck am I getting myself into? Fuck, this is a mistake… Fuck.

The ride to the gas station was quiet. Chip must have been thinking of what he was going to say or do when he got there. Let’s just hope it wasn’t Monica there. Bitch is crazy.

“Stay here, I have a feeling what I need isn’t here,” he muttered as he got out of the car. I looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“W-w-wait, you don’t want me to go with?” I asked as I slipped out of the car too, “Listen, I know the family that owns this gas station. They’re crazy. They’re nuts.”

“I got it. Just… just wait here,” he looked over at me one last time before going in. I stared at the door that he disappeared into before slamming the door shut. I leaned against the side of my car, patiently waiting for Chip to come back out.

I don’t even know how long he was in there for. But, it was a very long time. Worry took over as I began to overthink things. That dumb bitch probably killed him.

My worry melted away once he stepped outside with nothing but shame on his face. I raised an eyebrow, watching as he walked closer to me and my car.

“You look like you saw a ghost or something,” I chuckled as I pushed myself off my car and back around to the drivers’ side of the car.

“No, no it was much worse than a ghost,” he muttered before getting in the car himself. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked towards the doors of the gas station.

“Whatever,” I shook my head before slipping into the car, “Where to now? Monica’s trailer?” I raised an eyebrow as I glanced over at Chip. I watched as he pulled something out of his mouth and wrinkled his nose.

“Yeah, yeah,” he looked over at me before looking around my car.

“Do you have a plan? Or… Or a gun?” I asked as we got closer to the trailer park. He looked at me with a little terror in his eye. No plan or gun? Seriously? Good thing there’s a gun in my glove box. “You can’t go to these guys with just luck, Chip. That’ll get you killed,” I glanced at him as I reached over for the glove box, pulling it open and pulling out the gun.

“What the fuck! Where did that come from?” he asked, watching as I placed the gun on my lap. I glanced at him as I pressed down on the gas, speeding down the highway. “Jesus! Slow down,”

“You’re the one who fucking lost $68,000 to fucking Monica! You go in and get her money-”

“It’s not her-”

“It’s her money now, Chip. Jesus, she stole 3 of my bikes when we were little,” I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Chip looked at me again and nodded. “You’re lucky you have help,” I muttered as I kept my eyes on the road.

“You know this bitch?” Chip stared at me. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“She’s my, like, second cousin. My Dad’s niece’s kid,” I shrugged before shaking my head, “She’s a cunt. A fucking cunt,” I scoffed as I remembered my childhood with her. Chip was silent as I pulled into a driveway and parked the car.

“Oh good, looks like there’s a metal baseball bat in the yard,” I smiled at him. Chip looked at me with wide eyes, actual terror sitting in his eyes. I watched as he unbuckled his seatbelt and rested his hand on the latch to my car. He stayed still for a moment before turning to face me. I could tell that there was a moment of hesitation. I don’t blame him, do be honest. I hesitated to bring him here. Taking him here is basically signing his death warrant.

“Stay… Stay here… If I’m not out in an hour… Call the cops,” he looked at me before slipping out of the car. I watched as he walked up the driveway, picking up the metal bat, and walked towards the door. I almost got out of the car and went after him, but I didn’t. I’ll listen to him. He must have a plan worked out if he didn’t need my help yet.

I swallowed roughly, watching him knock on the door and wait for it to swing open. And when it did, a familiar looking guy stepped out of the trailer. It was obvious he was sizing Chip up, mocking him as he spoke. Chip looked over his shoulder at me, silently pleading for help of some sort. I shrugged, pretending like I didn’t understand what he was asking for.

A bell ringing came up the driveway and passed me. A familiar blonde riding a bike rode up the driveway.

“Oh, you again,” Chip spoke out loud at the blonde woman. Amy… Of course. Of course she shows up. She’s probably the one who told him where that bitch, Monica, even lived. I was just happy she didn’t even see me when she rode past me. I didn’t want to be a part of any of that bullshit.

Then he was pulled into the trailer.

“Fuck, this… This isn’t going to be good,” I muttered as I slouched down into my seat in the safety of my car. I wished there was something more that I could do to help him. Because just sitting here for an hour and waiting to call the cops won’t help me or him, specifically Chip. Fucking around with Monica and her… I don’t even know what to call the people she hands out with.

I grabbed for my gun again, pulling out the magazine and looking at how much ammo I had. Just as I put my hand on the handle to get out, a loud bang came from near the trailer, causing me to nearly jump out of my seat. I sat, frozen, paralyzed in my spot, staring at the trailer. They’ve just killed Chip. Or, Chip just killed them

“I don’t know what… What do I do…” I whispered to myself as I stared at the door from the safety of my car. I wasn’t prepared for this at all. What I should have done was follow my own advice to Chip and come up with a secondary plan… I can’t exactly go in there guns blazing… Unless, that’s exactly what I do. They won’t expect Chip to have a partner with him.

Okay, that’s it… That’s my plan… Bust into the trailer, and just go for it… But, I think… Should I wait the hour Chip told me to wait? What if he’s in trouble? Who am I kidding, he’s totally in trouble.

{***}{***}{***}

I just wish I hadn’t fallen asleep. Because, the next thing I knew it was morning and Chip was still in Monica’s trailer. Chip was still in danger.

I quickly fumbled my way out of the back seat and into the front. It was even worse as I rushed to get out of the car, my body nearly falling to the ground. When I was finally out of the car, I recollected myself, hyping myself up as I walked towards the trailer.

I had my gun tucked into the back of my pants as I walked. I didn’t want to be quick, but I also didn’t want to be slow. Chip could be in danger, and it was a little bit my fault. He’d be out of that situation if I hadn’t fallen asleep.

My fist carefully knocked on the door, hoping someone would answer sooner rather than later. When the door flew open, Monica was standing in the door frame, looking down at me with slight disgust.

“We don’t want girl scout cookies,” she looked down at me. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Good thing I’m not a girl scout, Monica,” I took a deep breath before pulling the gun out from my pants. I lifted it up and pointed it right at her chest. “Where’s Chip,”

“You want him?” Monica asked, cocking a hip as she leaned against the door frame. She wasn’t even bothered by my weapon being pointed at her chest. It was like she was used to it. “He brought you as back up? Oh that poor boy?” she looked down at the gun. I took a deep breath as I stared at her.

She knew I wasn’t going to use it. She knew me well enough to know that I just had this stupid gun for looks, and that I wasn’t going to shoot anyone. But, what she doesn’t know is that I’m not afraid of her anymore. She may have tormented me when we were kids. But I’m taking it all back now.

“Where’s Chip and the money, Monica,” I spoke, my voice low as I spoke. I slowly cocked my gun as I stared at her.

“Oh, you know about the money too?” she asked before looking into the trailer at her friends and, I’d assume, Chip. “Did you hear that? This slut knows about the money,” she spoke, looking at everyone. I swallowed roughly as she looked back at me, “Is she replacing that other slut we killed last night?”

“Just go! Get out of here!” I could hear Chip yell from somewhere in the trailer. Monica stared down at me, watching me as my hands shook with the weapon in hand.

“Too afraid to use that gun?” she mocked in a whiny tone. I blinked slowly as I moved my finger to the trigger. Everything happened so fast, when I opened my eyes, Monica was stumbling back, her hand over stomach where blood was spilling out. Blood was being coughed up as she fell against the couch, looking up at me with wide eyes. “You actually did it,” she coughed, staring at me terror in her eyes.

“I’m not scared of you anymore, Monica,” I spoke as I stepped into the trailer. I smiled as I looked down at her, cocking my gun and pointing it down at her again, “You terrorized me when we were kids… But not anymore… No,” I took a deep breath before as we made eye contact.

“You don’t have to do this,” she whimpered, looking at me, struggling to move as I got closer to her, “Listen, you can take Chip, and… and the money and go… I’ll leave you alone now…”

“Sorry just isn’t going to do it, Monica, not this time… Not ever,” I shook my head, “You can burn in hell for all I care,” I scoffed as I stared at her. Blood was dripping down the sides of her lips as she pleaded with me, but at this point I didn’t care about anything she was saying.

Chip called my name, causing me to look over at him. They really did a number on him. I wonder if they would have gotten this bad had I actually called the cops and did something last night.

My hands and shoulders dropped as I looked at him. I didn’t even bother with the others around me, I’d take care of them after.

Or, so I thought… One of Monica’s friends stood up and charged after me. I stumbled back, fumbling to cock the gun before pulling the trigger at him, getting him right in the head. He fell to the ground with a thud, a slab of meat just on the floor.

“Anyone else?” I looked at the others around me, really feeling my sudden anger and annoyance come through for everyone. The people around me backed away from me. I looked back at Chip, appreciating the way he was looking up at me. Just as I went to my knees to help him, the sound of a shotgun being cocked came from behind me. I froze as the barrel of a gun was pressed right to my head.

“Whatcha doin’ there, Sweet Heart?” a woman’s voice asked from behind me. I took a deep breath as I dropped my gun to the ground. I looked back at Chip and noted how the adoration he had in his eyes slowly turned into terror and fear. “Where’s my money, Chip?” the woman asked. There was a certain fakeness in her words that scared me a bit.

“I… I don’t have it!” Chip shouted as he struggled to stand up. I cringed as Liza pushed the barrel into my head a bit more. I swallowed roughly as I looked at Chip.

“L-liza? H-h-how did you… How did you find me?” Chip exclaimed as he looked past me and at the woman.

“I told you, Chip, I always know where you are,” her fake sweetness really struck a chord in me, pissing me off more than I was before. “Now… Where’s my money?”

Someone from the sidelines jumped to their feet and instantly charged at Liza. It was terrifying how quick Liza was to turn and shoot the gun at the man. I quickly moved away and grabbed my gun from the ground. I felt a little bad for moving behind Chip, using him as a shield from this new woman.

“You’re so quick to move on, Chippy,” Liza spoke as she looked back at me. I appreciated that Chip actually covered me instead of cowering away like I half expected him to. “First the whore from last night and now her?”

“I’m not a slut or a whore,” I stared at her. She cocked her head as she looked over at me. Yet, again another one of Monica’s people came after us, only to be stopped by a different person, their arm being sliced off in one swift motion. If you blinked you would have missed it.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” one of the three girls shouted front he couch. Liza turned to face the person behind her before saying something else.

“What… What do we do, Chip,” I whispered as I tugged gently on his shirt. He looked over his shoulder at me before lifting his finger to his lips. I stared at him for a moment, watching as he thought of a plan. The level of chaos in the building was starting to stress me out. I wasn’t expecting two terrifying people to show up at an already terrifying place.

“Go have fun with that one, Dwayne-y,” Liza pointed towards one of the girls on the couch. The guy looked over at the girl before grabbing her and pushing past Chip and I. I fell against the wall and blacked out for a moment.

When I came too, Liza was standing in front of Chip, talking to him about something. It was eerily quiet in the trailer now, other than Liza and Chip’s voice. My guess was Liza took everyone out. But, why’d she keep me alive? Chip probably bargained for my life. I’m honestly just a bystander in this whole thing, wasn’t I?

“You can let him run away… you can hunt him down, and kill him… Or… Or you can discipline him.. Teach him to heel or whatever he’s supposed to do,” Liza cocked her head as she looked at Chip. I took a deep breath, looking at the ground and noticed the gun on the ground right behind Chip. “So, Chip, what option do you want?” her tone was filled with that sickening sweetness, and it made me want to beat the shit out of her.

“Violet said there’s always another option,” Chip spoke softly as he looked at Liza. I carefully moved and grabbed the gun.

“Oh, she… She did? Well, I don’t see her here… Because she’s dead, Chip,” Liza scoffed. I took a deep and shaky breath before moving around the chair and aiming the gun right at Liza. “Oh, look who’s got the balls now,” Liza looked past Chip and at me. I stared down at her, feeling nervousness in the form of bile rise up my throat. “Are you gonna shoot me? Baby’s gonna sho-” her statement was finished short by a bullet to her head. I closed my eyes and looked down at the ground.

“Jesus Christ!” Chip shouted as Liza’s body fell to the ground. I took a deep breath before looking down at him. “She’s dead!”

“She was going to fucking kill both of us, Chip!” I shouted back, looking at him with wide eyes. Chip looked up at me as he stumbled to his feet.

“Okay, okay,” Chip looked down at me, placing his hand on my shoulder to steady himself. I looked up at him with wide eyes. “$68,000… My clothes, and then we fucking ditch this fucking place,” he pointed towards the door where the creepy man from before dragged a girl. I swallowed roughly as I looked towards the door.

“Here,” I handed him my gun before nodding towards the door. Chip looked down at me, a slight glare in his eyes before he took a step forward. I followed behind him, staying close to his body. He pushed the door open and immediately fired the gun, killing the guy instantly.

“I’m never going to sleep again, holy fucking shit,” I muttered as I looked at the horrors in front of me. He fucking ripped the girl a part.

“Stay here for a minute,” Chip muttered before stepping away from me. He didn’t seem bothered by everything. I was impressed that he was able to step into the room more and move stuff around. One he found what he was looking for he came back beside me.

“Let’s fucking go,” he muttered, holding a shoe box under his arm. I looked at the box as I followed behind him. I could kill him right now, and take that 68grand. I could start a new life on my own…

“Yeah, let’s go,” I looked down at the ground, “Shouldn’t we clean up the place first? Our fingerprints and DNA is all over the place,” I looked around the trailer and at all the dead bodies. Is it bad this didn’t phase me at all?

“You’re right. Hold this,” he muttered as he shoved the box into my hands. I looked down at it with wide eyes before looking back at Chip. He had a bottle of straight whiskey in his hand and was splashing it around the room, going into the other rooms before coming back. “You think this will be enough?” he asked, looking down at me with a certain exhaustion in his eyes. I tried to look past all the injuries he had earned, but it was hard when they covered his whole face.

“Hopefully,” I shoved the box back into his arm before leaving the building. I waited just outside as he lit a lighter and tossed it to the floor, causing the whole building to be engulfed in flames.

“Where to?” Chip asked as we walked back to my car. I looked over my shoulder at the blazing trailer and shrugged.

“Somewhere away from here. But first, we should get you a first aid kit,”

{***}{***}{***}

We drove for a long time. A very long time. I think we both wanted to make sure we were away from Monica’s trailer before we rested for the night. Which also meant we had to wait a long time before Chip could get the proper care he needed. It wasn’t fair to either of us that this was the case at the moment. I wasn’t ever expecting this to be what happened to me the other day when I woke up. I was just happy that after the second day of driving, he was actually okay.

“I’ll go get a room, you stay here,” I looked over at Chip. It looked like he was asleep, which I was expecting, so when he lifted his head and looked over at me I was a little confused.

“No, no let me,” he mumbled as he fought to get his seatbelt undone.

“Chip, you look like you just got out of Fight Club… Let me go get the room,” I placed a hand on his to stop him from moving anymore. He looked up at me with a little bit of terror in his eyes, “I’ll be right back, I promise,” I kept my voice low as I spoke to him.

“Okay, you’re right,” he mumbled before moving his hand away from the buckle. Chip rested his head against the head rest before closing his eyes lightly. I sighed deeply before sliding out of the car and towards the entrance of the hotel lobby.

I kept my voice low the entire time as I spoke to the front desk manager. It was hard when I also looked like I just got out of a war and the manager kept looking at me like that was the case. When they finally handed me the room key, I let out the deepest sigh of relief and returned out to the car.

“We have a room… Two days…” I looked over at Chip as I drove to a parking spot near our room.

“Two days… Nice, nice,” he murmured and nodded. I looked over at him and watched as he slowly unbuckled.

“You go into the room, I’ll grab the food and first aid kit,” I handed him the key before we both got out. Chip nodded before leaving and going towards the room. I made sure to be quick as I grabbed the stuff from the back.

“Should I shower?”

“No, no, let me clean your wounds up first,” I nodded towards the bed. Chip looked over at the bed before going to sit on it. I was relieved when he laid back on the bed like nothing mattered in the world. He opened his eyes and looked at me.

“Are you going to play nurse with me?” he asked, looking at me with a playful smirk on his lips. I laughed and nodded as I approached the bed.

“Unfortunately, I think I’m all you got,” I laughed as I sat on the bed beside him. He sat up and moved closer to him. We were both quiet as I pulled out alcohol wipes and gauze. I looked at his face, trying to figure out where to start. Thankfully the swelling in his eyes went down, but I cracked an ice pack to help.

“This is gonna sting,” I looked at his face as I lifted the wipe to his face. He winced as I began wiping the wounds on his face.

“Are you okay?” I looked up at him as I carefully placed butterfly band-aids and regular band-aids over the wounds. He looked back at me, a certain softness in his eyes. I was happy that he’d probably just need a few band-aids on his face instead of gauze and stitches like I’d thought. We both didn’t want to go to the hospital…

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” he whispered as he tried to not move away from my touch. I frowned looking at his face. “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he added. I looked down at his hands and nodded.

“Did you want to go to the hospital and tell them the truth?” I raised an eyebrow as I shifted closer to him with an alcohol pad. He cringed as I pressed it to the open wound on his hand. “Sorry,” I cringed as he flinched.

“You’re right, though… I don't think I could make up a believable lie in the hospital,” he looked at me, watching me clean the injuries..

“Was it worth it?” I asked, feeling a small smile grow on my lips. Chip shrugged a bit like he wasn’t too sure what I was talking about.

“Was… Was what worth it?” he asked, trying not to furrow his eyebrows. I laughed lightly and shrugged.

“The 68 grand that you risked your life for, Chip,” I laughed as I grabbed a bandage and picked it open, “Is it okay if the band-aid is pink with butterflies?” I held it up to show him the design. He swallowed roughly before nodding.

“Yeah, it was worth it,” he whispered, causing me to look back at his face. I furrowed my eyebrows when it became my turn to stare at him. “Because if I didn’t lose the $68 thousand... I probably wouldn’t have met you… And you saved my life,”

“Oh please, don’t compare me to Violet,” I laughed and shook my head. I felt a little bad for bringing up his dead friend, but I personally felt like he was comparing me to her. Just a little bit.

“I’m not,” he looked taken aback by my sudden statement. I shrugged, not entirely believing him. He knew that too. I looked at him, noting the cut and bruise across his nose. Who knows how long that was going to take to heal, but I hope it didn’t hurt him too much. “I’m being serious,”

“That makes me feel better,” I smiled as I began cleaning up the first aid kit we had bought when we pulled into a new town, “I should probably let you go your own way, come morning. I don’t want to get in the way of you while you’re trying to flee everything” I laughed as I clicked the first aid kit shut, “I’ll let you have my car,”

“Please stay,” he whispered, watching as I stood and walked across the room. I almost didn’t hear him. But I was preoccupied with my thoughts, trying to figure out how I’d get home if I had given him my car to leave. I was 2 days away from home… That’d be a long way back. “I probably would die if you didn’t come with me,” he added as I turned to face him.

“I’d be pretty useless if I came with. Is your life always like that, Chip?” I asked, placing my fists on my hips. He stayed quiet. “Because if it’s always like that, running from danger and shooting guns…”

“You’ll go back home, I get it. What happened the other day was-”

“I never said that,” I cut him off, “Yeah, what happened the other day was terrifying, Chip. But, I don’t think I’ve ever had such an eventful day in my entire life. I just don’t think I would be able to do that again. That parts gotta go,”

“Consider it gone,” Chip shook his head, watching as I slowly walked back over towards him. I looked down at him, appreciating the way he looked back up at me. “Forgotten. We can… We can buy a house in… In Iowa. Have kids, have a family. Get as far as we can from that place,” he moved his legs and allowed me to stand between them.

“Iowa?” I scoffed, wrinkling my nose at the thought of moving to Iowa. “And… You want to have kids? After everything that happened? You want to bring kids into this world?” I sighed deeply as I looked down at him. I left out the part of how we just met 4 days ago. He doesn’t even know me.

“Yeah, but if you were their mother, I think they’d be pretty safe,” Chip laughed as he reached up to grab my hand. I stared at him, feeling my heart swell in my chest.

“You don’t even know me, Chip,” I laughed lightly. He furrowed his eyebrows before shrugging. “And you already want to have kids with me?”

“I don’t think… I don’t think it matters. You saved my life,” he pointed out. I bit my lower lip as he brushed his thumb across the back of my hand.

“Yeah,” I paused, taking a deep breath as I stared at him, “You saved mine too, Chip,” I smiled at him, “I think Liza might have killed me if it wasn’t for you,” I laughed lightly out my nose. And, it was true. She probably would have killed me after she knocked me out...

“Well, good thing Dwayne was easy enough to take care of,” he returned the laughter, “Can’t believe I dated that bitch,” he sighed as he looked up at me.

“Yeah, I was about to say…” I smiled softly. Chip smiled as he carefully tugged my hand so I would fall forward slightly.

“Kiss me,” he whispered as I braced myself on his shoulder with one hand. I furrowed my eyebrows, looking down at his lips. The cut on his upper lip had thankfully stopped bleeding.

“Is that a good idea,” I pulled my hand off his shoulder and gently held his face. He wrinkled his nose and closed his eyes. “Chip, I’m serious,”

“I am too,” he begged as he looked at me, “I could di-”

“You won’t die tomorrow. You’re safe now,” I smiled softly as I looked at him.

“So, what’s stopping you from kissing me,” he asked, pointing out the fact that there was indeed nothing stopping me from kissing him.

“Why you gotta be like that?” I asked, moving my hand up his face. I carefully brushed the wound on his temple before carding my fingers through his hair.

“Be like what?” Chip asked as I pushed my hand through his hair and rested it on the back of his head.

“You’re so… nice. You’re not like other men, the ones who look at women like objects,” I laughed and shook my head, “You wouldn’t even hurt a fly.”

“You do know I killed, like, bunch of people yesterday,” he asked. I smiled and nodded. He pulled his hand from mine and rested both his hands on my hips. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at him.

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair…” I sighed deeply and cocked my head, “You won’t regret it, will you?” I asked, my voice hardly a whisper.

“Regret what? Kissing you?” He asked, his thumbs playing with the hem of my shirt, just barely touching the skin of my hip. I nodded lightly. “Why would I regret kissing you?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time a guy regret kissing me,” I whispered as I looked away from him, “The last guy I dated… He dated me as a joke… It wasn’t till after we… Well, we did a little bit more than kissing, did he tell me that it was all a joke,” I whispered before looking down at the ground.

“Nothing about me asking for a kiss is a joke, I promise,” Chip replied, his voice causing me to look back at him. He lifted a hand and rested it on my shoulder. “We don’t even have to do anything… You don’t have to ki-”

“I do… I do want to kiss you, Chip,” I whispered softly, “I’m just scared, that’s all,” I stared down at him.

“You don’t have to be scared,” he smiled softly, running his hand down my arm before grasping my hand. I swallowed roughly before moving to straddle his legs. He took a sharp breath as I adjusted myself on his legs.

“Sorry,” I cringed as I tried to get off his legs. Chip looked at me before resting his hands on my hips, keeping me in place on his lap.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, bringing a hand back to my face. I stared at him, feeling a small smile grow on my lips.

After a moment of just staring at each other, I moved forward, closing the space between. Our lips connected, and it was the softest, gentlest kiss ever. Although my lips were still dry, his lips felt dry, drier than the sand on the beach. The blood that was on his lips dried slightly, but it didn’t bother me at all.

Chip placed his hand on my lower back, moving me closer to his body. My arms wrapped around his neck, my body willingly moving closer to him as if it couldn’t get enough of him. I could tell that he craved me too, his other hand moving hastily around my body.

“Is this a good idea?” I murmured against his lips. I was careful as I pressed my forehead to his, feeling a small smile tug on my lips. “You’re like… Seriously…” I stopped myself from saying ‘seriously injured’.

“I’m okay. I’m fine with it if… If you’re fine with it,” he whispered, his hands going back to the hem of my shirt. I closed my eyes and let a deep breath of air out my nose. A small smile grew across my lips as his hand finally slipped up my shirt and up to my bra. “Please tell me your fine with it,” his voice wavered slightly with his words. I swallowed roughly and nodded, our noses brushing together as my head moved.

“Yeah, yeah it’s… I’m fine with it…” I nodded, taking a deep breath before opening my eyes, “I’m more than fine with it,” I whispered as I looked at him.

That was when he kissed me again. It was different than before. Because, before it was gentle and soft, like he didn’t want me to melt away. But also it was soft because we both had mild- not so mild injuries, and I knew he didn’t want to hurt me. The differences between this one and that one is, fervent and passionate, it took my breath away.

Chip’s hand on my back fiddled with my bra as he tried to unclasp it. I couldn’t help but laugh as he began to struggle. It was clear he was getting frustrated with the struggle, so when I went to help him, he let out a sigh of relief.

“Sorry,” he muttered as he fought to pull my shirt off. I laughed and shook my head.

“No, it’s okay,” I whispered before lifting my arms in the air. Chip smiled before pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it somewhere behind me. I sucked in a sharp breath as the cool air hit my bare chest. Chip was careful as he pressed his lips back to mine, then on the side of my mouth, before trailing down my neck. It was gentle, and soft, but it was enough for me to notice him sucking soft spots on my skin. My hands went back to his head, carefully pulling at the hair on the back of his head.

My head tilted to the side the further down my neck he went. A small gasp fell from my mouth as he attached his lips to my breast. My fingers gently pulled his hair, causing him to hum lightly. It was hard not to react to him and his touch. I needed him more than I needed air.

“D-don’t stop,” I whispered, my words wavering with each syllable. It was so hard to concentrate on anything as he placed his lips around my nipple. A shiver went down my spine, causing me to arch my back into him more.

Chip stood up, causing me to latch on to him so I wouldn’t fall, before turning around to put me on the bed. I looked up at him, my breathing picking up slightly as he stared down at me. His lower lip was pulled between his teeth as he looked at me.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” I whispered, lifting a hand to his face. He could hear the worry in my words as I spoke, letting his lower lip fall from his mouth. “Your lip is bleeding.” I left out that it was only bleeding a little bit, but it was enough to notice the red.

“It’s fine,” he whispered, bringing his hand to rest on my cheek. His thumb brushed against my lower lip. My body shivered slightly before I opened my mouth slightly. He smirked before slipping his thumb between my lips. I swirled my tongue around his thumb as I stared at him.

“Good girl,” Chip hummed, resting his other hand on the mattress by my head. I swallowed roughly before grabbing his shirt and pulling him down to my face. He moved his thumb from my mouth and looked down at me.

“Please don’t make me ask more than once,” I whispered, releasing my hand from his shirt to lift it to his face. He flinched away slightly as my hand barely touched his face. I could feel my face soften as I looked at him. “I won’t hurt you, Chip. You’re safe now,” I whispered as I moved my hand from his face.

“I know, I know,” he shook his head before lowering his face to mine, lightly pressing his lips to mine. I hummed, wrapping my arms around his neck again. “You won’t have to ask more than once,” he murmured against my lips. He looked down at me before pressing his lips to mine again, slowly kissing down my neck and chest.

Although he was quick to move down my chest, he was slow once he got to my hips.

“Hold on,” he stepped away from me, rushing to the bathroom real quick. I sat up, resting back on my hands, as I waited for him to come back.

“What… What are you doing, Chip?” I asked, my patience starting to wear thin as the seconds ticked by. I swallowed roughly as he stepped back out of the bathroom.

“Cleaning my face a little bit more,” he looked at me with a small smile on his lips. I furrowed my eyebrows as he came back to stand between my legs.

“I-I’m confused,” I looked up at him. Although, I really shouldn’t be confused. I’m the one who said ‘Please don’t make me ask more than once.’ and he obviously wanted it as badly as I did.

“You know,” he smiled as he lifted my hips a little bit before pulling my pants off my body. I suddenly couldn’t control my breathing anymore, and I was left trying to control myself. “Wouldn’t want to get blood everywhere,” he looked up at me as he dropped my pants to the ground.

I stared at him watching as he lowered to his knees between my legs. He was gentle as pressed his lips to the soft skin on my inner thigh. I took a deep breath, trying so hard to regulate my breathing. My elbows and arms gave out, causing me to lie back hard on the bed.

“So beautiful,” Chip whispered before blowing softly at my core. I gasped and pressed my head into the bed beneath me. My hands and fingers got knotted up in his hair again, slowly pulling his head closer to my body.

Chip laughed at me before peppering butterfly kisses over my pussy. I gasped, tugging lightly on his hair. He looked up at me before grasping both of my hands and holding them down on the bed.

“Ch-chip, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” I whimpered pulling at his hands. He hummed before licking a stripe right up my cunt. I swear, I couldn’t even breathe. He squeezed my hands as he kept licking at me. After a moment, his lips attached around my clit, sucking softly at the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Fuck,” I cried out as he pulled a hand from one of mine. I didn’t even notice that he pushed a finger into me. My free hand went over my mouth as a moan fell from me. Chip obviously enjoyed that sudden reaction, causing him to moan too. The vibrations from him caused me to moan again.

“ ‘m so close. Please, Chip, so close,” I moved my hand to his hair and pulled on it a lot harder than before. It was like I couldn’t breathe, the wind being knocked from my lungs like I was punched in the gut. “Fuck, Chip,” I moaned, my hips jerking at him. He pulled his hand from mine and placed it firmly on my stomach, holding me down.

“You’re doing so good, Princess,” he murmured against my body. I cried out when he pressed his lips back on me.

My mind went fuzzy and my vision turned white. I could feel my toes curling against the rough, scratchy comforter beneath me. My hands gripped his hair and the blanket so tightly I was sure my knuckles would blanch. And the only thing I could say was his name as I came.

My chest heaved as I tried to breathe. When I opened my eyes, Chip was back over me. He smiled, clearly enjoying what had just happened.

“That was… That was good,” I laughed lightly. Chip returned the laughter before pressing his lips to mine. I hummed following after him as he pulled away from me.

“That was, like, barely the pregame,” Chip laughed as he looked down at me. I furrowed my eyebrows and smiled softly. “If at all the pregame,”

“Well are you going to get started on the actual game or just leave me alone?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow as I stared at him. Chip laughed again before standing up right to rid himself of his jeans. I quickly moved so I was lying up by the pillows.

“Are you sure this is okay?” He asked once he was back over me. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m positive. If I wasn’t… I wouldn’t have let you eat me out the way you did,” I laughed as I brought my hands to his face, “I appreciate you cleaning your face a bit before you did that though. I don’t really want the staph infection or STD,” I laughed harder than I should have. But that in turn caused Chip to glare at me.

“Well, now I don’t think I want to have sex with you,” he looked away from me before sitting up right. I stopped laughing before sitting up to look at him.

“C’mon, Chip, I was just joking.” I moved so I was closer to him, “I’d love to get a STD from you,” I bit back my laughter as I looked at him. He glared at me again.

“Shut up,” he muttered, looking down at the bed. I smiled before lifting a hand to his face.

“You’re the one who wants to fuck the girl you just met 4 days ago,” I pointed out as I moved to straddle his waist. He looked at me as I sat on him. “But, to be fair, I also want to have sex with the guy I met 4 days ago so it’d be a little hypocritical of me to judge you,” I shrugged. I tried really hard not to look at his cock, but it was right there… It was obvious that he was painfully hard. “Use me, Chip,” I swallowed roughly as I looked up at his face. His eyes were scanning my face as his hands were resting on my hips. I could feel his fingers digging into my skin, and I was more than happy to let that happen.

What he did next surprised me. He lifted my hips up so I was hovering over him, before slamming me on his cock. A shout came from my mouth as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I pressed my face into his shoulder as I tried to breathe properly after the sudden intrusion.

“Fuck,” I panted before looking up at him after a moment. My muscles clenched around him as I slowly got used to his size. Chip pressed his lips to mine before carefully thrusting up into me. My hips slowly moved, meeting him at the perfect spots. His lips hardly left mine, and when they did it was only for a few moments.

“Gonna fill you up,” Chip mumbled as he pressed his lips to my neck, “Gonna put a baby in you,”

“Please! Don’t stop, fuck,” I cried, rolling my hips against his. My mouth opened around his shoulder, my teeth carefully sinking into his skin. “God,” I whined looking back up at him, “Do it, please, do it,”

“Yeah? You like that?” Chip groaned as he brought a hand to my chest. I let out a shaky breath and nodded as he massaged my breast. “Being filled with my cum, carrying my child,” he looked up at me. I pressed my lips together and nodded, feeling myself get closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Chip, please,” I placed my hands on either side of his face and pulling him closer to my face. I pressed my lips to his as he pulled me closer to his body, my chest pressing against his.

My breathing grew raged as he picked up his pace. His hand dropped to where our bodies met, his finger encircling around my clit. I was pushed right to the edge, calling out his name as he called out mine. His hips faltered slightly as he filled me with his essence.

My head dropped to his shoulder and my arms wrapped around his chest. It took a while for either of us to move, the intensity of the moment catching up with us. Although, the last few days in general were catching up with me.

“I gotta clean you up,” Chip finally whispered after a moment. I swallowed roughly before I struggled to get off his lap.

“You really do want to have kids with me,” I laughed as we finally broke a part, “I mean, yeah I want kids too. But not for a while,”

“I told you, we gotta get to Iowa first,” Chip looked over at me as he got off the bed. When he noticed that I was a little nervous about that, he came over to my side, “We don’t have to go to Iowa,”

“No, no, I know… It’s just… The thought of leaving… And going with you. The other day was terrifying, with everything th-What if I just left?”

“I know you're nervous. You have every right to be nervous. If we leave, we can get as far from that place as possible. We can find a safe place and be safe… Together,” he knelt on the ground beside me. I looked down at him and nodded, “Besides, you had the most boring life in that stupid motel,”

“True, true,” I laughed and shook my head, “You’re not going to, like, murder me… Are you?” I looked at him as I carefully grasped his hand.

“No! I wouldn’t do that! After the shit I just said to you with my cock in you? You think I’d kill you?” Chip nearly fell back on the ground, causing me to laugh again. I smiled and nodded.

“Okay, I… I guess if the worst thing you’ll do to me is get me pregnant… Then I think I’m safe.” I looked at him with a small smile, “And that’s not even bad,” I shrugged as I looked at the bed in front of me.

“I won’t murder you if you won’t murder me,” he spoke, lifting his hand and showing me his pinkie. I looked back at him and nodded.

“Promise,” I whispered before interlocking my pinkie with his.

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

#shadow writes stuff #shadow posts stuff #masterlist #chip taylor one shot #chip taylor smut #chip taylor x reader #chip taylor x you #chip taylor reader insert #68 kill one shot

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song-of-the-sunrise · 2 years

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All of the listed characters/muses are open for various asks of a variety!! 💖

DnD Characters-

Cal - Changeling (Rougelock, eventual God of Cats and Fair Fighting War)

He/Him

Ekon - Halfling (Barbarian, Ekon "Doorkicker" Zara, she who has killed a dragon and lain with a bugbear)

She/Her

Wrath - Longtooth Shifter (Wizard, lighting go brrrrr!)

He/Him

Mirage - Longtooth Shifter (Ranger, she very tired and very anxious, please buy her wares and continue your day)

She/Her

Weanhel - Tiefling (Monk mama! She'll verbally kick your bullies ass but only as a demonstration for your later use, however anyone touches you or abuses you the gloves are off)

She/Her

Ecstasy - Tiefling (Cleric, a burlesque owner with a soothing touch and soothing words, get this poor boy a French to English he has lived in town for 16 years and he purely chalks it up to the voice being nice for guests to hear but words are hard guys 😔)

He/Him

Artemis - Tiefling (Cleric, knowledge is the greatest thing to reach and achieve! Please don't tell dad I set the curtains on fire again 😰 it's the 7th time)

He/Him

Morgan - Human (Bard, that beautiful head is so full of bird songs, weed and melodies that by the gods you'd love to visit)

He/Him

Calvin - Human (Rouge, eventual glorified messenger of the gods, he's a tired 32 year old mom who has to keep everyone tied to a leash so don't make him bring out the sandals)

He/Him

Novel - Tiefling (Paladin, best girl go brrrrrr 💖🌟💖 fun fact, she's in a polycule with a person on this list... can you guess who?)

She/Her

Vula - Goliath (Barbarian, very patient and very tall. She helps keep the halfling in check especially when they get married 💖💖💖)

She/Her

Loki - Half Elf (Bard, eventual God of Music, he's so fine guys, there's nothing wrong! (Wrong, it's depression!))

He/Him

Nyx - Changeling (Bard/Rouge, I play a mean saxophone and fix you up with a cool new outfit!!!)

They/Them

Nyxxus/Nyxx - Changeling/Doppelganger (Bloodhunter/Blood Cleric, I'm hot and I'm so cool and there is nothing wrong with me! (Screams of traumatic experiences in the background)

They/Them

Zandria - Aasimir (Cleric, sweetest person you'll ever meet, and she'll be open that she's had a little bit of trauma. Big Tiddy Goth Gf with a side of she looks like a Milf)

She/Her

Brennan - Weretiger/Tiefling(Half-devil) (Druid/Sorcerer, he's wonderful to bring to meet the family, loves his momma and wish she would dump his father’s ass! Likes architecture 🌟😌🌟)

He/Him

No Name - Swiftstride Shifter (Bloodhunter, doesn't speak and just broke out of science experiment jail, he's doing his best)

He/Him

Mistle - Tiefling (Druid, "hey have you ever been on a adventure before?" No!! How hard can it be!? 😁😁😁 *Thunderwaves the whole party*)

He/They

Bjorn - Human/Werebear (Fighter, we like to call him BBB- Bare Bear Bear(man), he's trying to find his husband who isn't taking things very well.)

He/Him

Malik - Half Elf/Werejackal (Rouge, hi, the one not taking the changes very well. Twink in comparison to his husband.)

He/Him

Lazgar - Orc (Fighter, she'll take your wallet... along with you. She has perpetual "Don't Fuck With Me" face.)

She/Her

Merostife - Rakshasa (Sorcerer, he's just a little guy when he wants to be, but otherwise he's a manipulative dickhead.)

He/Him

Nathaniel - Human (Warlock. Under no circumstances, if you want to stay alive, do you ever touch his stuff.... including his husband.)

He/Him

Kavanoth - Goliath (Barbarian, in the good timelines he's a great man and a wonderful father!!! In others.... 😒😒😒)

He/Him

Monolith - Lower Pact Deity (rat, little bastard, his shrunken form looks like a hairless Sphinx cat with an extra couple of legs, and three very tentacle-like tails.... oh and if that's not worse he's got the feet like an otter despite the fact that water is his enemy)

It/They

Other Characters From Other Things-

Homestuck:

Kemvis Frulaz (Homestuck OC/Fantroll)

They/Them & He/Him

https://www.tumblr.com/song-of-the-sunrise/736736702805229568/kemvis-frulaz-ask-and-answered

Shantz (Homestuck OC/Fantroll)

They/Them, He/Him, She/Her, It/It's

Hospaa Ezlive (Homestuck OC/Fantroll)

He/Him

Stri'ya Tatreu (Homestuck OC/Fantroll)

She/Her

Fun Writing/Comfort Characters/Fursonas:

Stormy Stargazer - Tiefling (Comfort OC/ OC Story)

They/Them

Belladonna Lapridosha - Tiefling (Comfort OC/ OC Story)

She/Her

Kai Cleary (Furry OC)

They/Them

Piper Rosemund (Furry OC)

They/Them & She/Her

Rayis Embryn - Changeling (Furry OC/ OC Story)

He/Him

Alexander (Xander) Debohdare - Human (OC Story)

He/Him

Harker Windrow - Tiefling (OC Story)

He/Him

Leslie Mirrorwood - Human (OC Story)

She/Her

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the-entire-cast-needs-therapy · 3 years

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Mermista Headcanons

• Those gold, Wonder-Woman-style wrist cuffs she usually wears? She just found them in the armory when she was a teen and was like, mine now.

• Often her snark is genuine, but she also uses feigned apathy or frustration to cover up messier emotions like anxiety or sadness.

• She's in a band. Lead singer, duh. The band never officially broke up, but they kind of had to put things on hold when Mermista took over the kingdom. Speaking of which...

• Mermista is pissed at her dad for retiring in the middle of a war. Like, unholy degree of rage that would motivate her to hit him with a tsunami if she could find the bastard. She had panic attacks about this. She had nightmares where something terrible happened to Salineas and she couldn't stop it. She promised herself she'd never let those nightmares come true. No matter how bad things are, she's going to make something out of what her father left behind.

• Her dad was a decent king, but a neglectful father at best and abusive at worst. He was barely around, and when he was around, he was criticizing everything she did or showed an interest in. This is part of why Mermista is so stubbornly independent- she knew her dad wouldn't be there to support her when she needed it, so she pretended she didn't need him, or anyone.

• But the thing is, however much she resents her dad and tells herself she doesn't need him or his approval, she wants it. Badly. But she knows she'll never get that approval, so instead of trying to be perfect, she acts out in the hopes that she can become a problem her father can't ignore.

• All of this is a long-form way of saying that she was rebellious as all hell. She's still got a bit of a goth thing going on with the black nail polish, and she's still standoffish, but she used to be way worse.

• Mermista met Sea Hawk through a bar fight that got unbelievably out of hand. She almost drowned him in rum.

• Mermista is pretty determined to push Sea Hawk away before she becomes dependent on him for emotional support, both because of her trust issues and because Sea Hawk does not seem to be the most reliable sort, considering he burns the private property of his friends on a whim.

• Despite her best efforts, she's very attached to both Sea Hawk and the other princesses. She may not always understand Entrapta's enthusiasm about robotics or Perfuma's mindfulness addiction, but she can and will fuck someone up for them. With no hesitation.

• She, along with the entire rebellion, is THIS close to trying to adopt Frosta. She KNOWS what it's like to have leadership sprung on you before you're ready, so even though she knows Frosta is more focused on Glimmer, she would gladly take up the title of older sister if given the chance.

• While she quickly slid into the bathtub depression we saw onscreen, she had a full-on mental breakdown after the fall of Salineas. Crying, screaming, making massive waves and slamming them into the walls of the cavern she hid in to do this, the works.

• Because this is what she was afraid of. She fucked up, and her kingdom suffered the loss. She failed.

• Post-series, she's pissed at Catra, but things get better. Catra apologizes and helps rebuild, and well, it'd be kind of counter-productive to drown one of your new assets. They even sort of become friends, since Catra is in Salineas so often helping with the reconstruction and they have surprisingly compatible personalities. Learning about the near-constant suffering parade Catra was going through also helped, even though (as Catra acknowledges) a lot of it was self-inflicted.

• Something similar happens with Hordak, but it's a bit... Messier. The way she sees it, Hordak had more than enough time away from Prime to stop and unlearn his programming- she just does not believe he never had the chance. Being chipped gave her some perspective, but seeing how quickly Wrong Hordak adjusted was a massive step back in the "sympathizing with Hordak" thing. It took several talks to get it through her head that Wrong Hordak got lucky.

• Eventually though, she came around somewhat. She and Hordak aren't exactly friends, but they can hold a civil conversation.

• She got "fuck Prime" t-shirts from the same guy who used to produce her band's concert tees. She gets one for everyone. Yes, everyone. Even Frosta. Despite (and slightly fueled by) Perfuma's protests.

• She gets her old band back together after the war and a few Rebellion members join, including Wrong Hordak (who is going through hobbies at frightening speeds in an attempt to figure out who he is) and Scorpia (who, while pure, is surprisingly good at angsty music).

#mermista #sea hawk #perfuma #catra #hordak #frosta #scorpia #wrong hordak #entrapta #seamista #she ra #spop

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kingexpl0sionmurder · 4 years

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Missed Connection - Shinsou Hitoshi

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder Rating: NSFW 18+ Warnings: Unprotected sex, blowjobs, dirty talk, poking fun at fakes who shop at UO and wear band t-shirts for bands they don’t listen to, terrible poetry, Kaminari is a weirdo. Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi/F!Reader Words: 4,554 AN: This is for the bnharem server collab, the theme is pen pals! We were able to write basically anything as long as there was some kind of communication/writing/texting etc! This is the first time I’ve written for Shinsou and I head cannon him as a fucking closet goth so don’t at me. Collab Masterlist (Please go check out everyone else’s contributions!) My Masterlist Buy me a Ko-fi -- When his phone started ringing, Shinsou was tempted to throw it halfway across the room. Whoever thought it was okay to call him at - he turned to squint at the clock on his bedside table - 10 in the morning on his day off, better have a good excuse. He frowned at the screen once he’d found his phone, and sighed.

“The world better be on fire, Kaminari.” His palm rubbed over his face as he pressed the phone to his ear, his eyes closing again.

The blonde chuckled, full of energy as usual. “Aw, come on ‘Toshi! It’s not that early.”

A million ways he could kill his friend and make it look like an accident flashed through his mind. “You know I like to sleep late on my days off.” He left it at that, no further explanation needed. Kaminari knew he stayed up impossibly late on his off days, crawling under the covers only when the sun started to rise.

“You want to hear this, I promise. I wouldn’t call this early unless it was important.” Shinsou listened to the sound of a keyboard clicking through the phone, waiting impatiently for his friend to continue.

“So, you know how I sometimes like to fuck around on the internet?” This was a rhetorical question. Of course he did. “Well, occasionally I like to browse through Craigslist, and this morning I was in the missed connections section, and I found something interesting.”

“Why do you look through missed connections?” He didn’t really care, he just thought it was kind of...weird. But, then again, this was Denki, so he shouldn’t have been surprised.

Kaminari huffed. “Dude, sometimes it’s so sad to read how they saw someone and thought there was a connection. It makes me wonder if they ever find each other.” He was quiet for a moment like he was deep in thought. “But then sometimes, it’s like ‘You farted in the produce section and I’d still date you, let’s go out’ and it kind of loses the romantic appeal.”

“You’re a sap. Also, gross.” He found himself drifting off, bored with the conversation already. “Do you have a point?”

“God, you’re impatient! Listen, I was scrolling through the ads and I found this one, I think you should hear it.” Clearing his throat, he began to read.

“You were the sleepy purple-haired man in the cat cafe on Main, I was hiding behind an orange tabby by the window. I was staring, but I wasn’t trying to be creepy. You just looked kind of lost, and the black and white short hair on your lap seemed to have all your attention. Oh, I think his name is Socks. Isn’t that unoriginal? Anyway, I’ve seen you there a few times and I want to know more about you. If you see this, please respond.”

Shinsou sat up in his bed, ignoring the sharp pain of his muscles protesting at the sudden movement. “What the fuck?”

“This is about you, isn’t it?” Denki’s excitement was clear. “You’re the only sleepy guy with purple hair I know who frequents that cat cafe on Main Street.”

“How long ago was that posted?” Hitoshi felt strange, restless energy flowing through him. Someone had noticed him and decided that he was interesting enough to want to get to know? He wasn’t anything special, and he kept to himself mostly. What did this even mean?

“Last night! When did you go to the cafe?” He didn’t even wait for a response. “I’m forwarding this post to you, and you better send them an email! It’s been too long since you’ve dated someone, ‘Toshi, and I’m concerned.”

Unfortunately feeling more awake than he wanted to be, Shinsou shifted until his feet were on the floor. “Yesterday afternoon. And it hasn’t been that long.”

“It’s been like a year, dude.” Kaminari sighed. “Okay, I sent it. Please write back to them. Let me live vicariously through you in this weird turn of events.”

Shinsou sighed and said goodbye, ending the call and staring off into space for a minute. He needed coffee before he could even think about reading it for himself and then maybe responding.

Uh, hello.

I can’t help but feel like this was about me? I’m not even really sure what to say. This feels weird. You could have come over and said hi, maybe. I don’t bite. I might have stared at you and made things awkward but I feel like it would have been a surefire way to talk to me instead of posting this on craigslist of all places and expecting me to see it.

You’re lucky I have a friend who likes to scour the dark recesses of the internet for entertainment purposes and happened upon this post.

-Shinsou

How do I know this is really the person I’m talking about? What were you wearing when you went to the cafe? That’s like the only way I can be sure you are who you say you are.

The only reason I didn’t come over and talk to you was that I had Oliver on my lap and he is a grump and didn’t want me to get up until he was good and ready. (That’s the orange tabby’s name, by the way.) By the time I was able to coax his fat ass off of me you had gone.

Honestly, I’d let those cats climb all over me like their own personal cat tree all day long and not complain about it, but I digress.

I didn’t expect you to find this or reply, it was kind of my way of convincing myself that I’d given it a shot, even though I really hadn’t done much.

-Y/N

I was wearing the following:

A Joy Division t-shirt depicting the cover of Unknown Pleasures, which is arguably the most cliche t-shirt I own. It’s become one of those shirts that people wear who have no idea who Joy Division is, they just like it for the aesthetic. (I’ll have you know I happen to know who they are and like their music very much.) This shirt was more than likely covered in cat hair.

Black jeans, which were probably covered in cat hair as well.

Black boots, a staple of mine.

I am a closet goth. I don’t know what else to say. I won’t deny it. I’ve learned to embrace who I am. I happen to know that Oliver is a grumpy shit, so I am not surprised he kept you pinned down for so long. That cat has been known to knock people over and purr loudly while “making biscuits” on their chests for hours at a time. I’m glad to know that you survived his assault.

So what are you going to tell me about yourself now? I have confessed to you about my goth status, so I demand something in return.

-Shinsou

Yeah, it was you.

I was hoping that you actually liked Joy Division and you weren’t one of those Urban Outfitters aesthetic people. I can now rest easy. I like them too, but I really like New Order more? I hope this isn’t the end of our budding friendship.

I will not say that I am a goth, though I have goth-like tendencies? Or I just appreciate the music. Whatever. I don’t have, like, a pet bat or anything. I own a pair of Doc’s, though.

I have been on the receiving end of one of Oliver’s attacks before, so you don’t have to tell me about them. I have experienced his pushy demeanor on more than one occasion.

So, something about me? I don’t know. I spend a lot of time in that cafe because I love cats, but that’s kind of a given, isn’t it? I usually bring my laptop and make an attempt to work on my homework, but it’s usually futile. I’d rather pet the cats.

Oh, I guess that counts as something right? I go to college. I’m an English major and taking a fuck ton of creative writing courses. What about you?

-Y/N

An English major? That sounds like fun. I think if I had a need to go to college I’d have liked to take something like that. I have a friend who writes ultra depressing Gothic poetry, that would be right up his ally as well.

I’m a pro hero, hence why I didn’t need college. Saving people is something I’ve always wanted to do, especially since I was always bullied about my quirk as a kid. It kind of made me more determined, I always wanted to prove those assholes wrong, you know? So, here I am.

I’m glad to know we can wear matching Doc’s together, and that you don’t keep a bat as a pet. As cute as their faces are, they’re not very easily domesticated.

New Order is fine. The real question is, The Smiths or The Cure? Your answer to this question will be what determines the longevity of our friendship.

-Shinsou

This is the worst question you could ever ask me. How could you do this? I could never choose between them. Both? The answer is both.

I hope your next email will not be your last.

Bats are cute but they always seem to dive bomb my head when they’re around. Not that I go places with bats often, but I used to go camping as a kid and they always did that. It was not a good time.

I think it’s amazing that you’re a pro hero! You’re really out here, fighting the bad guys and saving people and then coming into the cat cafe and petting kittens and drinking coffee like a normal person. I think it’s admirable how hard you worked to achieve your dream. I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m proud of you. Why were you bullied for your quirk? You don’t have to answer that if it makes you uncomfortable.

I wish I could write ultra depressy Gothic poetry. Here let me try:

The night is black like my soul Clove cigarettes burn slowly My life is Meaningless

How was that? Do I get a gold star? Or a black skull? Which is appropriate?

-Y/N

I’m printing that and sending it to Tokoyami. Thank you for making my entire existence with that poem. I’m breaking out the red wax candles and putting on “How Soon Is Now?” right now.

You get a star, but it’s a pentagram. We have to keep with the theme.

My quirk has to do with mind control, so I was always told I was meant to be a villain. You can imagine what that could do to a kid’s psyche, being told by peers and adults alike that you weren’t hero material, when that’s all you wanted. It’s okay though, I did what I wanted and they can eat my ass.

Sorry if that was too raunchy, but it’s how I feel.

If my earlier comment wasn’t proof enough, I prefer The Smiths, but I cannot deny the impact of Disintegration. Lullaby is a really great song.

That being said, this will not be my last email, so you can breathe easy.

On a semi serious note, I really enjoy talking with you. We have a similar sense of humor, and you like cats which makes you automatically better than most people. Would you like to get coffee sometime? I know a nice place that’s quiet and filled with fluffy kittens...

-Shinsou

—

I’m glad I haven’t lost your friendship due to my opinion. I know how important that feud can be to some people. People get very passionate about it. Kind of like with Blur versus Oasis, or Brand New versus Taking Back Sunday. I hate that these are the only examples I can think of.

It wasn’t too raunchy. Those people can most definitely eat your ass. I’m glad you have decided to use your powers for good. You’ll have to explain to me how your quirk works sometime.

I shall treasure my shiny pentagram sticker with my entire heart.

Isn’t Tokoyami the Jet Black Hero: Tsukuyomi? He looks like the type to write Gothic poetry. I am not even mildly surprised.

Even though the way we met was unconventional, I’d like to think I’d have gotten up the courage to speak to you the next time I saw you in the cafe. Somehow this is better, though. It makes for an interesting story, you know?

I’d love to get coffee. I think I know the place you’re talking about. Let me know when.

-Y/N

—

Shinsou was nervous. It was stupid really. He’d been exchanging emails back and forth with you for a few days, and even though you’d barely revealed much about each other, the easy banter through your messages was comforting. He felt like the two of you would be compatible. He just hoped that he was able to keep the conversation going in real life.

When he entered the cafe, he ordered his usual and picked his normal table towards the back. Socks, his favorite black and white companion, was at his side almost immediately. He let his hand drift down to scratch behind her ears, his gaze fixed on the door as he waited for you to arrive.

Out of habit he was a little early, but he figured it would be easier this way. He had no idea what you looked like, but you knew him, so he knew you’d come over when you got there, and it would make things less awkward.

A few minutes later he saw the door open, and he immediately knew it was you. Black Doc’s and thigh high stockings, a black skirt and an oversized deep red sweater adorned your body, a leather jacket over your shoulders and your hair tucked under a black beanie, cheeks pink from the chill of the autumn weather outside. You were pretty, and he felt his nerves increase tenfold when your eyes met his, a smile gracing your face.

He watched as you ordered a drink at the counter, the paper cup clutched in your hands as you made your way to his table. He stood up when you approached, letting himself appreciate you up close. “Y/N?”

“Hi, Shinsou.” You were so much shorter than he was, and he found himself having to gaze down at you when he was standing at his full height.

“It’s nice to put a face to all those emails.” The way you blushed under his attention made his heart flip. “Please, sit.”

You nodded, sliding into the seat across from him. He sat back down, his hands moving to grip his coffee cup.

“This is kind of weird, isn’t it?” You looked down when Oliver made his way over, rubbing himself against your boot. “I almost feel like I don’t know what to say.”

“I know what you mean. We could just sit here and email each other, if that would make you feel better.” Your laugh was like music to his ears. “I’d rather hear your voice though.”

Your face was red when you looked back up at him. “I have to agree.” You leaned your elbow on the table, your cheek cradled in your palm. “Tell me more about yourself, Shinsou.”

“It’s Hitoshi. You can call me Hitoshi.”

—

If anyone would have told him that the night would end this way, he’d have said they were insane, and should probably get themselves checked into the nearest institution.

But here he was, his face pressed into the spot where your neck and shoulder met, lips ghosting over soft skin, his calloused palms sliding underneath your sweater. You were purring, your head thrown back and your fists clenched in his t-shirt, your back pressed against the wall in the hallway that led to his bedroom.

“Fuck, ‘Toshi.” You mumbled, pressing yourself closer to him. “Bed?”

You didn’t have to ask twice, his hands sliding down to lift you up by the backs of your thighs, his cock hard and straining in his jeans as you rutted against him. He turned himself and began walking toward his room blindly, his eyes still shut as he sucked a mark into your neck.

He pulled back so he could peer over your shoulder and maneuver your bodies through the doorway without bumping into anything, laying you back on the bed.

The events of the night were a blur, your coffee date turned into him taking you out for ramen at the restaurant down the street, and then he asked you back to his apartment to show you his record collection.

It was mostly a ruse though. You’d been flirting back and forth, the both of you getting bolder as the night went on. He was only half surprised when you’d entered his apartment, barely removing shoes and coats and hats before you spun around on him, pressing him against the door and kissing him like your life depended on it.

He rested on his forearms, poised above you, looking over your flushed face and kiss bruised lips. Your legs wrapped around his waist and pulled his hips closer, making him groan. “Impatient?”

Your hands moved to cup his face, pulling him down toward you. “Very.”

He wasn’t expecting your strength, caught off guard when your lips crashed into his, your body pushing him over until he was on his back and you were straddling him, knees on either side of his hips. You ground down against him, moaning when his hips snapped up reflexively. He was happy to give you control for a while, especially when you sat up and grabbed the bottom of your sweater and pulled it over your head. The view was spectacular.

He let his hands wander, tracing along the lines of your thigh highs from under your skirt, and up to the lace at your hips. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the devilish glint in your eye was not lost on his as you shifted down his body, fingers swiftly working to unclasp his belt and undo the button on his jeans.

You slid off of him, and he lifted his hips to aid you in pulling his pants down his legs, his boxers following. His cock was achingly hard, the tip angry and red as it sprung free from it’s confines, nearly slapping his stomach. You eyed it greedily, and he was lost for words when you surged forward, delicate fingers wrapping around his length and stroking him, your tongue peeking out to taste him.

Amethyst eyes rolled back when you took the tip in your mouth, tongue swirling around the head, a low moan sounding from the back of your throat. The warmth and wetness that surrounded his cock when you closed your eyes and bobbed forward had him breathless, his hand threading through your hair, and his palm resting on the back of your head. He kept himself steady, fighting back the urge to buck his hips and push you down further on his length.

Shinsou bit down on his lower lip, his stomach muscles tensing as he tried to keep it together. Kaminari had been right, it had been a while since he’d been with someone, and he wanted this night to last as long as possible. The sweet and innocent look in your eyes as you looked up at him through your lashes, your mouth enveloping him all the way to base, was nearly too much for him to handle, his hand tugging at your hair gently to pull you off of him. “I’m not going to last if you keep that up, kitten.”

You visibly shivered at the pet name and he grinned, loving the feeling of being able to invoke that reaction from you. He scooted forward when you sat back on your knees between his spread legs, his arms circling your torso as he worked at the clasp on your bra, pulling the straps down your arms when he unclipped it. Strong hands gripped your waist and moved you to the side as he stood up, reaching under your skirt to tug your panties down your legs.

He took a moment to consider what he’d do next. He wanted to taste you, it was only right for him to return the favor, and he was almost certain you would taste as sweet as you looked. Another part of him wanted to hike up your legs around his waist and slam inside of you, desperate to hear you moan his name as he pounded you into the mattress. As he contemplated what to do, reached back and pulled his shirt over his head, and then let his hands wander up to the apex of your thighs, digits sliding through your folds. You gasped, falling back onto your elbows, back arching as he toyed with your clit, letting his long fingers slip inside your heat. “So wet. Just for me?” Eyebrows raised, he teased you.

“Fuck, Hitoshi, please.” Breathless and panting, you gazed up at him, biting your lip.

“Please what? Tell me what you want.” You would make the decision for him. “Would you like my mouth or my cock? I’ll let you choose.”

Huffing, your hips rutted against his hand impatiently. He kneeled on the bed between your legs, adjusting his arm and adding a second finger in with the first, his thumb finding your bundle of nerves again. He listened to your breath hitch, and your quiet mewls, pride filling his chest that he was the one coaxing those noises out of you. Finally, you breathed deep and answered him. “Fuck me, Hitoshi.”

Ignoring the protesting whine that left your lips when he removed his fingers, he brought them up to his mouth, maintaining eye contact with you as he sucked on them, tasting you. “You’re delicious, kitten. I’ll have to make sure to taste you properly later.”

Wasting no time, he lifted your legs up to rest your legs over his shoulders, one hand on his cock. He lined himself up with your entrance, grabbing at your hips and pushing himself inside you. If he thought your mouth was hot and wet and basically everything he thought was heaven, he was mistaken. This was it. This was everything. He wasn’t even inside you all the way and he was fighting back the need to cum again, cursing himself and breathing deeply. He leaned forward, forearms on either side of your head as his mouth crashed against yours, all lips and tongues and teeth, his need for you growing tenfold as you wiggled your hips in an attempt to feel more of him.

Groaning, he bucked forward, filling you up, the both of you sighing in relief at the feeling. He gave you a moment to adjust, lips moving down your jaw and tongue laving at the mark he’d left on your neck earlier. “You feel so good, kitten.”

“Toshi, you can move…” Your hands were gripping his biceps, nails leaving crescent shapes in his pale skin, breathing ragged as you clenched around him.

Hissing, he followed your instructions, hips pulling back until he was almost completely out, before sliding back in. Your arousal made the glide easy, your back arching underneath him. He started a steady rhythm, grunting quietly and letting the feeling of you pulsing around him keep him grounded. He let one of his hands wander, shifting his weight so he could ghost his palm over your side, fingers pinching your nipple and rolling the hardened bud between them. You keened, chanting his name like a prayer, the sound of blood pounding in his ears almost masking the sound.

It spurred him to move faster, his chest tight, sweat pooling at his temples and between his shoulder blades, purple locks sticking to his forehead. His gaze was locked on you, and it stole his breath. Your chest and neck were flushed, the most beautiful sounds spilling from your lips as he fucked into you. It became clear to him that he wasn’t going to last much longer, and neither were you.

“Hey, kitten. You gonna cum for me?” He shifted back to his knees and trailed the fingers on his left hand down your stomach, coming to rest between your parted legs. “I want to hear how pretty you sound when you come apart.” He kept a firm grip on your hip to keep you from sliding away, rolling his hips and rubbing tight circles on your clit.

“Fuck, Hitoshi!” The effect was almost immediate, your body and lungs seizing, eyes rolling back as you fell over the edge, your cunt clenching around him like a vice.

Falling back over you, his thrusts became sloppy as he chased his own release, barely able to move with how tight your pussy was gripping him, your orgasm still rolling through you. He felt your hands on his face, guiding him to kiss you again, fingers carding through his hair and down his back, your nails raking red trails down his back. He felt like he could barely breathe, lost in you. “Y/N…”

He felt his muscles tense, and moved to bury his face in your neck, his hips stilling as he came hard, filling you up with his release. You squeezed around him again, and he sighed into your skin, eyes closed as he tried to regulate his breathing.

Rolling over to the side, he hissed when he pulled out. You chuckled, and he turned to look at you, a lazy smile on his face. “What?”

“Is that what you call showing me your record collection?”

Snorting, he propped his head up on his palm, leaning on his elbow, his free hand reaching out to push a piece of hair away from your face. “You attacked me, remember?”

“I couldn’t help it!” Protesting, you blushed. “I wanted to kiss you from the moment I walked into the cafe.”

It was his turn to blush. “Yeah?”

Shrugging, you turned on your side to face him. “Mm. Can you do me a favor?”

His body was still buzzing, muscles loose and pliant as he shuffled closer to you. “Anything.”

“Can you thank your friend for being a weird internet troll and finding my post?”

Shinsou coughed a laugh, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. “Please, I can’t do that. It’s all he’d ever talk about for the rest of our lives if I did.”

You leaned up and kissed him, your fingers pushing back his hair.

He hummed against your lips, feeling content, shifting himself on the bed and wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you into him. “Maybe I’ll send him a text later. For now, I have other plans.”

Kaminari’s phone buzzed on the coffee table, and he picked it up, eyes widening at the message that appeared on the screen.

Toshi: I owe you a crate full of Pokemon cards and my eternal gratitude for being a weirdo meme king who trolls the internet.

Denki: Oh, you’re in a good mood. Did you get laid?

Toshi: Fuck all the way off.

Denki: That’s a yes. You’re welcome.

2K notes · View notes

batarangsoundsdumb · 3 years

Text

hae interrogationes multae respondeant quia demens .

if you read this entire ask post you deserve a gold star and financial recompensation

Um, Obviously because when you’re adopted by a white guy you automatically become white duhhh

this is about this post lmao and yeah youre absolutely right, you have to hand your poc card in when you get adopted by a white guy.

Do you think Cass would listen to Yanni, the YouTube channel epic symphonic rock, or some other stuff? There's some cool mashups but idk if that's up your alley, I kinda feel like I'm pushing it with my weird taste of music by recommending an orchestra cover of metal, but i just love that sort of thing and mashups :P @harvestyourcherries

i haven’t heard of that? but in my personal (correct) opinion steph listens to classical music, and then both modern and older, and then also stuff like black sabbath, iron maiden, but also hardrock and hardcore. i like the idea of cass just liking the most extreme screaming songs full of noise and then also listen to pachelbel’s 370th sonata yanno? THANK YOU for the rec tho

speaking of ur cass playlist hc...reminds of the time (yesterday) i found 2 playlists randomly on spotify from the same user. one was abt 3 hours of instrumental/classical "dark" & "nostalgic" music. the other almost 11 hours of nothing but hardcore bass/synth/electronic music. just an incredible tightrope act to put on in public. the synth one was also called like "psalms for synth sluts" which is Also incredible

tbh i LOVE synth SO MUCH like for no reason at all but then also cannot handle a poppy electronic beat lmao. but this seems like the kinda thing i’d do but just in one (1) playlist bc i just sort songs by vibe instead of genre? that’s how i end up with britney spears and billy ray cyrus in the same playlist.

Oh, I want Kate Kane playlist next! It would be amazing if you could do one when you have time and will 🙏

how rude would it be of me to just say no? like sorry kate but idk you and also you seem way too keen on the us military for an institution that homophobically targeted you? (and also commits war crimes) but let’s unpack the fact that the institution that caused the death of your mom and sister and also got you blacklisted for being gay is still one you align with???

'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' --- when i tell you i fucking screamed LOL!!!!!!! i can imagine the cameraman not knowing if he should cut to commercial or keep it on these two weirdos fighting on stage (bruce definitely ruffled dick's hair/noogied him right??

about this post but yeah lmao. this cameraman just turns to like the audience to get a reaction and it’s just multiple moments of CLEAR shock.

you are the only funny person on this hellsite

how egotistical is it for me to say that i get this ask multiple times a month? bc it literally happens so often it’s hilarious to me.

Wish there was more john/Bruce content 😔😔😔 was so hungry I actually looked at canon media 😔😔😔 (Justice League Dark babeeeyyyyyy)

check out batman: damned for some mediocre content but at least it’s john/bruce (also very interesting story and stuff, just got very >:( over this weird part where harley quinn tried to r*pe bruce or something? it’s not for everyone)

dick grayson but he's nicki minaj

his anaconda don’t want none,,, unless......

Dick Grayson was never a cop, he played Marshall on Paw Patrol

you are SO right. also paw patrol is a fucking good show idc. that shit could’ve been the new steven universe on this hellsite.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CS1lI0bLI7-/?utm_medium=copy_link

...

why do people keep reposting my CONTENT. if you are not funny yourself don’t just grab shit off of tumblr and post it on insta,,, get a life. sidenote: should i start an insta and get all these ppl to take my content down that would be funny as hell.

Might I suggest for a Gotham City Meme: something about the true crime fandom thirsting for the rogues gallery

ok can i just say something slightly controversial?? no? i don’t find true crime ppl who are into criminals funny, that shits disturbing irl im not gonna bring that into my very chill universe.

i may have never seen a 'jason cleaning guns in sink' fic but i do know he WOULD

THANK YOU

bestie im sorry to say this to you but while you can, and people do wash their guns in the sink, that is a lot of lead in a very vital part of the kitchen.

people tend to do it in the bathtub.

WHY???? like damn why do you even have guns

i dont think i read many gun sink fics exactly but i have read lots of fics where jason cleanes his guns in the living room. usualy dissembles them and cleans them with a rag i think

lmao fair enough, like i think that’s a large part of what i remember as well.

if you say you've seen/read gun sink fics I believe you. I think those of us who didn't see them are lucky or maybe didn't search for fics by tags or something idk

i mean ive never sought them out but i HAVE seen them,, like definitely i know almost for certain.

saw your tags and I'm interested in Steph/Kara now. They would be the most chaotic couple <3

literally thoooo, i have a wip where they get together in a zombie apocalypse and like UGGGHhhh i am so in love with them.

I am the Breece anon. Thanks for the recommendation; am reading now. I’ve always been a hardcore Superman fan because I love my pure himbo farm boy. My logic is, if one Bruce is a Broose, then multiple Broose are a herd of Breece. And this is a hill upon which I will perish.

fair enough,,,, like moose, meese, goose, geese, bruce, breece. i get your logic and i stand by it as well. (glad you enjoyed the comic recs!!!!)

It's a beautiful day in Gotham, and you are a group of horrible Breece

OH my god dude lmao

there only being 42 fics on ao3 for tim and bernard is honestly so sad i need more

it’s like twice that now!!! we did it lads. (tho very sad that my fic isnt number one but like number 4 :(((( )

i'm too late you already did the poll lol but may i suggest bethy (bernard + timothy)

shit dude that wouldve been so fucking funnyyyyy. think ppl have just stuck to timber tho, tim/bernard kinda died down recently and i think it’s too bad, they’re a great couple and i love them.

Wait, hear me out

Bernothy @redlightofdawn

great recommendation (lmao this ask is from like a month ago) but very sorry to announce that NARDTH is the superior shipname

Wait, we know that bernard likes milfs (Tim's step-mom) but what about dilfs? gilfs?

Wait no, I regret sending that ask

these were two seperate asks and they’re HILARIOUS. in my personal opinion tho,,, milfs, gilfs, dilfs are just about vibes and bernard is just attracted to sexy ppl who may sometimes be milfs, dilfs, or EVEN gilfs.

crime in bludhaven would drop to half if nightwing had a boob window. in this essay i will-

WHERE’S THE ESSAY ANON, WHERE’S THE FUCKING ESSAY

Wait if Barbra and Tim r at opposite ends at all times what happened to Barbra once everyone’s Tim’s ever love before started dying lol

she won a lottery ticket and spent 2 weeks on a resort in the bahamas before returning home and finding out that the joker was arrested for tax evasion and then spent a month staying at her big tiddie goth girlfriend’s house before conner came back to life and she broke her pinkie playing table hockey.

Why is the opposite end thing so funny and compelling to me. Tim comes back from his depression quest for Bruce and Babs is now a literal god

lmao when tim loses his spleen barbara reaches nirvana.

Are you still taking music recs because I have three songs that remind me of Jason that I think you'd like

send to me or lose a toe

🌸 ⭐ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. it’s time to spread positivity! ⭐🌸😋

thanks, i wont tho on account of i wont.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMduBy3Sr/

⬆️

This is the whole of Blüdhaven and everyone anywhere.

Nightwings ass alone saves more people in a calendar year and does more for so society than most heroes do their whole career.Also u are one of the funniest tumblr pages out there. The vibes are unmatched and the memes and tags ✨send me✨.Thank u and goodnight @julia-flow

fanksss also lmao.

That's going to be a little bit difficult to explain, but

There's some music that you listen to and you think, "oh my gosh, I can perfectly imagine Dick Grayson singing this song, with the same voice as the singer because that voice matches with Dick Grayson"?

oh yeah totally lmao. i have a lot of songs that i think are just entirely dick grayson yanno? kind of all of my playlists have that vibe, but i really find bleachers to fit with dick? idk.

"Lois lane/Superman" fics this, "Lois lane/Clark Kent" fics that, (/lh) let's get into the real good stuff. Some people ship Lois, Clark, and Superman as a throuple. Most popular fic tag for sure

yes totally, i think they’d be absolutely killer on ao3 and clark gets so fucking embarassed about it.

I miss your post, hope you’re doing okay!!

haha this was like 2 months ago, but i was doing fine then too! just didn’t have a lot of inspiration in terms of content.

Doot doot!

noot noot

I’m confused. What did DC do now? Like with nightwing? And another sibling? Please spoil everything for me

lmao they gave him a secret sister plotline where they had his dad cheat on his mom with tony zucco’s wife, bc dick’s life wasn’t traumatic enough yet.

sorry but it's so funny that batman is called "the dark knight" when the gotham city baseball team is called the gotham knights. it'd be like if a vigilante was running around new york called like "the scary yankee"

lmaooo no. but like yankee comes from dutch names or something so wouldnt it be HILARIOUS if gotham knights came from like german names and bruce would be running around called the dark KLAUS UND NIEK @graysonnightwing

(not a batcest shipper) it’s so funny to me that the responses are “i’m a batcest shipper because i can differentiate fiction from reality and and it doesn’t bother me personally, but i understand why you oils think it’s weird” to “i wish all batcest shippers a very fucking die”

yeah lmaoo. i personally basically flipped my entire stance around to ‘i dont care please leave me and everybody else alone’ bc i think there’s really no point in starting a moral dillema over some fucking fandom bullshit. Please just,,, go home,,, log off, find a nice forest to have a little walk in and remember that somewhere in history, somebody probably died in the place you’re standing. and you will also die someday, and somebody will have to look at your internet usage and see you fighting multiple people anonymously while being named ‘nightwingsbuttchin200186′ like... calm down, we’re all gonna die this is not the thing to worry about.

so since like "wards" don't really exist in modern society almost all the batkids are foster kids, right? i used to work in the system and imagine: monthly visits from social workers and guardian ad litems, bruce having to get permission to take the boys anywhere out of state, calling their social worker at like 8 a.m. like "yeah dick broke his arm again... a gymnastics accident this time...." their poor social worker. bruce send her a huge bouquet and box of chocolates every month to stay on her good side

i imagine the social worker just getting into the case like ‘yeah let’s get this kid a good guardian’ and then ending up having to work with 22 y/o bruce wayne and his 50 y/o dad. and so this social worker is like ‘okay we can work with this, this is the best home i can find’ and then like it ends up landing on its feet and then the kid gets adopted and then they get a call a year later like ‘uhm so hi, this kid tried to steal my tyres can i adopt him?’ and like 3 years later. ‘okay so basically, my neighbours’ kid imprinted on me and now they’re dead, can i keep him?’ two years later it’s like ‘okay so this assassin child-’

ever since I saw that one post of yours, the meme that's something like "I know that abba's backup dancer got me" with a picture of discowing, I've been haunted. Every once in a while I'll be minding my own business then the image of abba's backup dancer dick grayson aka nightwing aka discowing will flash in my mind and I'll be frozen in place. Today at work I was in the middle of folding clothes and suddenly once again discowing entered my mind and I suddenly lost the ability to see anything except He. Thank you.

wow. the IMPACT.

Braver than any US marine man props to you🤝

this shit is about the time i wrote an article on batcest, like man,,, the fact that i didn’t get cancelled is MIRACULOUS. also like,,, uh if anybody on here did gossip on me,, send screenshots i’d love to see it.

Hello, just wanted to say your article was great. Thank you for taking the time to provide an unbaised answer. It should provide people with nuances they couldn't possibly conjure on their own.

May I ask where your username originates from?

yes you may (also thanks!!!) i thought it up when i was trying to find an original username bc i didnt want to be called like ‘timdrakes something something’ or ‘jason todd something smoething’ or ‘dick grayson something something’ yanno? so i thought batarangs, they sound so dumb and that’s my username story... now it’s my whole entire brand lmao.

yno that bit in kick ass where red mist asks kick ass if he wants a hit of his blunt, was that the inspo for stoner tim

no? it’s bc i think stoners are hilarious and drugs are great. (dont do drugs tho)

How would u feel if someone actually wore one of those bruce or ollie pride shirts u edited

fenomenal next question.

Dick as lil huddy and Jason as James gave me radiation poisoning and now I’m screaming crying throwing up so thx for that

(Rico suave as Tim is perfect tho literally no changes needed)

i was so funny for that shit wasn’t i??? lmao i loved those weird ass fancasts

You're doing the Lord's work by providing us with all these Gotham/Metropolis citizens memes, thank you for being so relentlessly funny @nellethiel-aranel

you’re welcome!! i really enjoy making memes, but getting validation for my content and my memes is REALLY nice.

Bruce is such a slut in your memes and honestly i love that for him @rhodey-rhudert-rhodes-main

he’s that much of a slut irl too dw.

Bruce and Alfred have an emergency pride flag for the batkids. Oliver Queen printed an emergency "I love my gay son" t-shirt and as soon as Roy told him he was dating Jason, Oliver started wearing that shirt everyday and Roy always cringes when he sees it. Oliver also has an emergency "I love my lesbian daughter" shirt just in case for Cissie.

lmao YES i had a post like this bc like all of their kids/family members are so gayy

stop bringing back batfam fancasts it is not real it is not real it is not- 😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀

oh yes it is my darling.

did discowing burn down the notredam because he hates the bees? @allulily

no he did it bc fuck the french.

im gonna beg for 1 thing and 1 thing only. please please please put physical by olivia newton john on dick's playlist

okay then beg. bc i wont. physical reminds me too much of glee and that hurts me mentally.

your playlist is sorely missing some Madonna. Specifically Into the Groove, Like a Prayer, and Vogue

i’m scared of madonna that’s why she’s not on there. she haunts me in my dreams.

suggestion: son of batman by aaron dews for dick’s playlist🤩

sorry, i listened to it and the vibe didn’t agree with me.

Hear me out, metropolis citizens sending rare pair fics of Clark Kent x Superman fics to Lois to edit

yes, absolutely hilarious. even more funny if they send like physical copies, no address attached and lois sends it back marked with red ink, SOMEHOW

Imagine all the smut Clark must of read editing the fics

clark reads smut confirmeeed

NOT LOIS READING SUPERBAT PORN AND EDITING IT A 2AM

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

hc that alfred is a meta that boosts healing factor of the people around him. if the bats are injured as much as they seem to be they would be doing bat stuff MAYBE half the year. no one including alfred knows about this. whenever the kids move out they inexplicably dont recover from injuries as fast and feel better whenever they visit the manor they just chalk it up to homesickness. bruce just thinks he heals really fast. alfred thinks everyone doesnt take care of themselves properly @finchcollector

that’s actually such a great idea, but i think that alfred would find out and learn how to concentrate it better so he can help more people, bc he’s great and i love him.

One of your dickfast posts reminded me of that tweet that goes: 'so you've had sex how many times? Yeah technically that's not a bromance' lol that's dickwally or dickroy

literally tho. like that’s all of dick’s friendships. once it gets past a certain time dick is like ‘wow i wonder what it would be like to make out with wally, wally come make out with me’ and wally’s like ‘we’ve done this like 40 times, dick, you know what it’s like’ and dick is like ‘sorry are you complaining?’ and they just make out.

superfam and batfam associations??

-batman and superman

-dick/barabara and supergirl?

-conner and tim

-jon and damian

pls enlighten me I am confused

nope,,, uhm batman and superman, but dick and superman as well, and then conner and tim, jon and damian and steph + babs with supergirl

I came across a fic in which Wonder Woman calls Batman "Stella" (like Stellaluna, the children's book) and I can imagine the batkids hop on the trend and maybe copies of the book appear at random places (aka, everywhere Bruce frequents)

sorry can’t reciprocate that was the name of my high school chemistry teacher and it gives me nightmares to think about.

good human what are your pronouns?

wouldn’t you like to know?

I need me some gothamites preferring harley over joker memes

everyone prefers harley over joker youre just very fucked up if you dont

don't understand why people try to add like veteran policy to the batfamily

dick pulling out his veteran batfam member card so he can eat first: step aside, peasants

Do you know the song Simmer by Haley Williams? It (the first verse anyways) reminds me of Jason? It's about rage.

damn yeah i LOVE HAYLEY!!!! youre right thoo

Okay so I like listen to your stoner Tim Drake playlist 24/7 but would he listen to skegss? Also I keep adding songs mentally it’s killing me 😩✋🏼 Anyways,, I literally love and worship your playlist 😃🤞🏼 And uh yeah have a good day ✨

stoner tim drake playlist is lyfeeee. also dont know who skeggs is? i’m stupid? have a good day!!

All the Robins (and Batgirl) decide to trade costumes for one night just to fuck with Batman and all the villains in Gotham. @subspacecadet

batman knows it’s them youknow but like,,, what does he call them? he’s like ‘red hood?’ and 3 people answer and he’s not about to compromise some identities so he’s just Pissed.

I aspire to treat cops the way my dad treats them. This man is a 45 year old Asian immigrant to the US and the treats them like his pets. He talks about them like unruly children. Sometimes he pays off local cops to shut up and stop acting racist. And usually it works. I don’t know why but I can see Oliver Queen doing this

vibes... and also yes? oliver queen handing a local cop a donut to shut the fuck up lmao. but yanno i commit enough crimes to not really want to ever see a cop ever, so they kinda scare the everloving fuck out of me.

seeing as tim hasn't aged in years, that means he was 17 at peak emo tumblr era. im back on my emo tim bullshit and im not letting it go

emo tim had a wattpad account send tweet

People seem to think that batman is so dark and serious when the rainbow batsuit is right there. He wore it with no shame.

dude the 60s were a DIFFERENT TIME

dick grew up in a circus, jason grew up on the streets, and tim was probably raised by the internet

all of them cuss every other word and you cannot tell me otherwise

bitch i KNOW but dc has to change to an 18+ rating if they want to sell comix with swear words in them so we gotta deal with imagining the swear words in ourselves

thoughts on teen titans and young justice

haven’t seen teen titans on account of havent seen it and young justice was LITERALLY my favourite thing ever, tho i do gotta admit it’s not at all similar to the young justice comics unfortunately. i really wouldve liked to see timmy bart kon cassie and cissie animated on tv!!

ew ew ew how to delete batcest shippers I genuinely digust them

log off tumblr?

Okay as poc who was called racist for calling an Italian pastabrain: in the batfam are Italians bit Damian just yells various insults about the others being Italian. Just him yelling “What are you doing you moronic spaghettihead!” At steph etc

huh? i meant real italians. homeboy is telling steph he hopes she chokes on her fucking garlic.

I think it's dumb as hell to pull the batman is the best fighter in the batfam argument because like it's just irresponsible of Bruce to let his kids fight when they couldn't possibly be on his league or something

fair enough, but also like who cares they could all kill you just sit down and take a beating.

lady shiva, thalia al ghul and Selina Kyle are all milfs @notanothertimburtonenthusiastugh

unfortunately, i have to admit,,, you’re right

why tf didn't someone give joker a death sentence already? like he's a mass murderer...give him the electric chair treatment wtf

idk i think plenty of people would have tried to murder him already (boring answer is: he is a popular character so they can’t kill him off bc he brings in lots of money)

There’s no such thing as “ copaganda”.

all american media is propaganda. happy to clear this up for you

is it bad that I find lady shiva owa owa

no. find her as owa owa as you want.

aight I'm guessing the order of your favs in batfam:

1. tim

2. Steph

3. dick

4. Duke

5. the rest

you’re wrong but it’s cute that you tried, i generally don’t have favourites, but i have a special place in my heart for steph, tim, dick and cass. bc they were like my introduction to batfam. but damian, jason, duke, bruce, babs and alfred are NOT FORGOTTEN OR UNLOVED

oh my god i was literally just readily willing to believe that italians werent white ty for clarifying it was a joke im so dumb sdkvjskdfs

i mean some italians aren’t white? italian is a nationality as well as an ethnicity, so like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

since I saw so many people doing headcanons about the nationalities of batboys, I see Dick as an Italian.

dont know if youre serious or not, but sure.

super random but

jason 🤝 damian

old english

lmao fair enough.

tim absolutely has 1 gay uncle and his parents shit talk said uncle all the time so after bruce adopts him he specifically reaches out to this uncle to be like "heyyyy just so you know you majorly influenced my life yes i know i havent seen you since i was 5 and at the family reunion yes i know you dont remember my name idc thank you im gay too" and then they never talk again.

yuppp lmao that’s definitely something that could happen. i can also consider tim having no family members, like none. until he does like a dna test and he realises he has like an aunt living barely 2 miles away from him who’s like some illegitimate child of his grandpa.

I dare you one of them sends clark superman/clark fic and clark corrects the shit out of it and then goes like ps his dick is not that big, just telling as someone who has seen it. internet either explodes or goes who tf did he not fuck at this point.

i think everybody would call clark a buzzkill and try to cancel him over that.

so you're telling me Tim Drake wouldn't buy Starbucks?

no. dunkin donuts all the way

One of my favorite things is imagining people finding out jason came back from the dead and being like "oh no does he have magic powers now?!?!?" and he just pulls out a gun and tries to shoot joker

now he doesn’t even have the gun :) lmao

my favorite batfamily fanfictions are the ones where they use their shitty codenames, unironically, in any context

bruce gets codename ‘ugh’ everytime. he hates it.

crazy that tim being a 17 y/o ceo and a stoner who does brand deals are all actual canon things written in detective comics comics and not made up for shits and giggles by you, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb @rowdeyclown

SO CRAZY HUH?

batman au where everything is the same but his utility belt is bright pink

absolutely, but i raise you, his boots light up like sketchers when he kicks people.

unbeknownst to the superhero fandom writers in the dcuniverse, clark and BRUCE are one of the most prolific fanfic writers in the superhero rpf tag on ao3. clark writes the best lois x superman angst, full of unhappy endings and scenes that are a so detailed you'd think you were in the middle of a superhero beatdown. bruce made an ao3 account to fuel "the do the butts match" thing, and makes batman/bruce fics from time to time. he wrote a superbat fic as a joke but ended up making it REAL porny. @concrastinator

dude they’re WAY too busy for that. Oliver Queen and Hal Jordan on the other hand are the most prolific fanfic writers in the superhero rpf tag writing what is Mostly porn.

When the dining table topic gets to politics, Steph says "eat the rich" as the solution

bruce just silently takes away her fork and knife while she’s talking.

#literally if you got through this i just respect you #this is mainly just for the people who sent me an ask in the past few mask #i hope your ask is in here :)#sorry for everybody else #ask #bataranswers #this took me 4 hours to do so i hope youre happy #also sidenote #does anybody know the latin translation for 'to become'#bc i just used future of 'esse' but it could be a different verb #who cares tho latin is a dead language #big congratulations to everyone who translates my sentence #here's a bonus sentence: tuam matrem futueram

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hauntedfalcon · 3 years

Text

living in midnight

for day four of Nile Freeman Week: "Nile & Struggle" plus a fantasy AU in which superheroes exist, Nile isn't one of them, and she doesn't let that stop her. 1700 words, rated M for swearing. content warning for wounds and needles because it's Nile's turn for sapphic patching up, as a treat

the title is from Lianne La Havas’s “Midnight”. many thanks to @flightsofwonder for beta reading <3

read on AO3 or below

Nile opens her eyes to see an unfamiliar ceiling. There is an unfamiliar pillow under her head, and she is recumbent on an unfamiliar sofa. Above it is a window, where streetlights reflect in the sinuous trails of raindrops.

Rain. Knives. Three attackers. She fought like hell, might have broken someone’s arm, but they landed one good hit. They left her for dead in an alley. She watched her own blood run into a puddle.

She bolts upright--and hisses when a wave of agony breaks over her, starting in her abdomen and shooting everywhere.

“Please don’t move,” says a softly accented voice. “You’re safe here. I haven’t seen your face.”

Nile collapses back down to the pillow and touches her face, just to be sure. Her mask is still in place. She drops her hand and forces one eye open, blurry with pained tears, to get a look at whoever dragged her in from the alley.

A white woman. Dark shoulder-length hair. Youngish, maybe Nile’s age. Dressed all in black, much like her--not for stealth but for soft goth vibes. Cute, if she’s honest, but this isn’t the fucking singles bar, get it together Freeman.

“I staunched the bleeding,” her rescuer says, “but I was waiting until you were conscious to do the stitches.”

“Do we have to?” Nile groans before she can stop herself.

A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smile. “I’m afraid so. Would you like some fortitude?” The amateur surgeon holds out a bottle of Everclear.

Ugh. Nile takes the cap off and drinks deep, leaving enough in the bottle to sterilize whatever needs to be sterilized. It tastes like ass and lingers at the back of her throat.

Before the alcohol can set in and obliterate her senses, she says, “Can I borrow your phone?”

The woman hesitates. Very wise of her.

“Listen,” Nile says. “We had two leads come in at the same time. Al-Tayyib took one and I took the other, and mine was a decoy, which means...” She can’t, won’t, say it aloud. She hates how feeble she sounds. “I just have to check in with him. Please.”

The woman hands her a smartphone, unlocked. Nile hits the keycode to make the call anonymous, then dials Joe’s shitty flip phone from memory. He keeps it on silent when he’s on the rounds, and he’ll only answer if he’s safe.

Pick up, she wills him, because if she has to hear his stupid cheerful voicemail greeting now of all times, she’s going to scream right in front of this poor woman who didn’t ask for any of this drama in her life. Pick up, pick up, pick--

“Pronto.”

Nile’s gut tightens (painfully, but that’s not what matters right now) at the sound of another unfamiliar voice. The assassin. Joe walked into a trap.

“Where is he?” she demands, trying to sound hard and not like she’s lying on a stranger’s couch with an open wound.

A gust in the speaker. Is he laughing at her? She strains to hear anything that would give away their location: traffic, a clock tower, machinery, anything. There’s nothing else. No hint of Joe yelling in the background, either.

“I will return him to you presently,” says the asshole. Very formal.

“What, after you shank him like your goons did to me?”

“They were instructed not to kill you,” he says in a voice that wouldn’t fog a window in January. “Did you die?”

White-hot rage flares out of her with no place to go. “Where is he, you son of a--” But he has already hung up on her.

Nile resists the urge to growl. If this was her phone she would throw it against the wall. Instead she quickly deletes the record of the outgoing call, and hands the phone back to the woman, who pockets it. “Thank you,” she says tightly.

“I’m sorry to say so,” says the woman as she holds the tip of a curved needle in a candle flame, “but you are in no condition to save anyone right now.”

She blows out a sigh in answer. When she pulls the hem of her shirt up and peels away the medical tape and bandage pad, she discovers that the woman is absolutely right. This isn’t the worst Nile has been hurt and still fought, but it is pretty bad.

And it’s one thing to trash a gang of traffickers while she’s actively bleeding. It’s something totally different to track down a guy who has been three steps ahead of them this whole time, and seems to have removed his sense of morals with an ice cream scoop.

There’s only one thing left to do: say a silent prayer. The way she learned to pray feels insufficiently casual for the circumstances; she wishes she knew more about the format of the rakat. All she remembers is, “God hears the one who praises him,” so she starts on the Lord’s Prayer because praise comes before petition.

In place of, “Give us this day our daily bread,” she substitutes, “Get Joe out of this with his head,” and then she has to hold back a giggle at the rhyme. She must have lost a lot of blood.

The woman wipes the needle down with Everclear. “You know, I met the old Guardian too.”

Nile eyes her carefully. She won’t say Andy’s name in this woman’s presence. She won’t say Joe’s name either, much less her own. She won’t slip no matter how much blood she’s lost or how strong the alcohol is or how fundamentally good and trustworthy this woman seems or how much this is going to hurt. “Not under the same conditions,” she presumes.

“Very similar,” the woman says with another fleeting smile. “I hope she’s well?”

“She’s good,” Nile hastens to reassure her. “She retired.” And she left Nile her nom de guerre and all the weight that went with it.

“I’m glad she made it that long.”

“Probably thanks to you,” Nile says, and she gets a longer smile for it.

Then the needle bites into her skin and Nile whimpers softly and throws an arm over her eyes. She’s hard. She’s tough. This is what she does.

The woman’s gloved hand pinches the wound closed as she stitches. She works quickly, professionally. “I’m really glad you found me,” Nile manages. “I can’t exactly go to a hospital.”

“I think you would be surprised,” the woman says. “You are well loved in this city. People would protect your identity.”

That’s not it. Nile can’t go to hospital because there’s a chance her mom would be on shift, and the only thing worse than keeping her alter ego secret from her mom is the idea that she would find out because Nile came in on a gurney. She can’t do that to her.

A tug, as she ties the thread off, and then a snip of the shears. Nile lifts her head and looks down at a slightly puckered, neatly stitched, no longer bleeding knife wound.

Her laugh sounds brittle, just this side of hysterical. The woman glances at her. “I have work tomorrow,” Nile says weakly.

The woman tapes a fresh bandage over the wound. “Me too.”

No rest for the righteous. “The struggle is real, huh? Sorry for keeping you up late.”

“I will call in if you do,” the woman offers.

But going into the office in the morning might be the soonest opportunity to make sure Joe is okay. Nile pulls her shirt down and zips her bomber jacket over it. “I should go.”

The woman sets one hand on Nile’s arm. “Please stay. You shouldn’t be out alone tonight.”

“They might have been watching when you brought me inside,” Nile warns.

“Then I will need your protection, won’t I?” the woman says without blinking, as if she’s not the one that just saved Nile’s whole life.

Nile cracks an incredulous smile but the woman just gazes at her solemnly.

“Okay,” she says at last. “Okay, I’ll stay. Thank you. And I’m sorry for bleeding on your couch.”

It’s not enough, but the woman just sets about cleaning up her supplies. Nile settles back against the pillow and wills her muscles to unclench.

“May I ask,” the woman asks as she washes her hands, “why you do this? You don’t have superpowers.”

No, and none of the people who do have taken this city under their protection. Flippant, lazy answers parade through Nile’s mind, because she’s not in a charitable mood. Anger issues. No one else is gonna do it. I’m a giant masochist, actually.

But when she opens her mouth, the first thing that comes out is Andy’s answer, from when Nile asked her years ago. “Because there are people worth fighting for.”

Then Joe’s answer: “People who won’t get justice any other way.”

And, finally, one that’s all hers. “I have a responsibility. This is my city”

She’s going to pass out any minute, but beneath her fatigue there’s still a live coal of the feelings that made her put this mask on in the first place. This is her damn city. She spends so much time in the guts of its shitty justice system, and the rest of the time punching assholes, that she sometimes forgets her city is full of ordinary, decent people. Good people. People who will bring someone in from the rain. People like…

“What’s your name?” Nile asks, and then catches herself. “I can’t--give you mine. Sorry. It might be safer if I don’t know yours.”

“Celeste,” says the woman.

Good people like Celeste. How comforting that is.

Her pain is down to an ache instead of a burn, and her eyes drift closed. In the morning, she’ll be out of Celeste’s hair. She’ll shower at her apartment, carefully, and she’ll go into Legal Aid, and Joe will be there, a little banged up but alive. He’ll hug her, quick and tight, and they’ll loiter by the coffee maker and speak in low voices and sort out their next play. And when the work day is over, they’ll go with Andy and Quỳnh down to Booker’s for drinks and darts, and Nile will order a bouquet of flowers sent to Celeste’s apartment in thanks. Everything, for given quantities of everything, will be fine.

Confident in her safety, secure in her purpose, Nile rests.

#The Old Guard #Nile Freeman #nileweek2021

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needtherapy · 3 years

Text

The Necromancer’s Apprentice

Xue Yang has seen The Dark House and he’s heard the rumors that a zombie, a witch, and a necromancer live there. It’s stupid, obviously, but...well...maybe he’ll just sneak in one night and find out.

It’s better than doing nothing. It’s better than going back to the group home. It’s better than sleeping on the street.

Aka, three mildly feral twentysomethings are forcibly adopted by one (1) very feral thirteen-year-old Xue Yang.

Read on AO3

Many thanks to @coslyons for co-writing this with me (all the funniest parts belong to them) and @kevinkevinson for beta.

There is a Dark House in Ballard, and people say to avoid it.

It is probably not called the Dark House because evil lurks inside, although there is some debate about that. It is called the Dark House because it is black from threshold to cupola, from shutters to frames, and it looms on a block where whimsical shops of brick and steel are far more common. Unlike the thrift store and the record shop, the hiking outfitter and the vegan patissiere, no ivy reaches toward the roof of the Dark House. Unlike the local yarn store, no dogs sniff the Dark House’s gate, although at least two cats—also black, naturally—are always sitting on the porch.

It may not be fair to judge a house by its color, but the local legends are clear. If you step on the cracks in the sidewalk, the Dark House will steal your soul. The wrought iron gate of twining snakes comes alive under the light of the full moon to snap at unwary joggers. Children who walk alone after dark get eaten, and the yard is full of bones that wail songs of their murders.

Xue Yang sits on a bench, across the street, eating ice cream and admiring the house. He wonders about the sanity of people who mow the lawn and trim the roses, yet painted their pretty little house black, until it occurs to him that he could just go inside and find out.

He waits until dark, not to stay hidden, but because it’s a more terrible idea, and Xue Yang always gives himself permission to do more terrible things whenever he gets the chance. The high iron fence buzzes with a strange kind of energy that crackles in his palms, so Xue Yang wraps his hands tightly in his flannel shirt as he climbs over. His mother always said he was a practical boy, back when she was still around to say things.

Xue Yang lands in the backyard with a quiet thump onto thin and scraggly grass. The center of the yard is dark under the watery moonlight, with the dirt churned up and loose, and for the first time, a tiny twinge of warning pings in the back of his mind.

He ignores it.

With a flick of his wrist, he summons his knife, a long black switchblade that is seven kinds of illegal and which he loves more than anything else he has ever had, not that there is much competition. With nimble and practiced hands, he slides the knife between the door and the frame, twisting just right when he reaches the lock. With a grin of triumph, he turns the handle, shaped like a gaping mouth, and opens the door.

In the center of the room, there is a long sort of table that seems somehow to pull all the darkness of the room toward it. The shadows gather most thickly around a large, human-shaped lump laid out stiffly on top of it. Xue Yang reaches out to poke it and feels something unexpectedly warm give slightly under his finger.

The shadowy lump on the table sits upright with a sudden jerk.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Xue Yang shrieks.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!” the shadowy lump shrieks back.

“Why the fuck is everyone yelling?” a voice says, and the room is suddenly filled with light.

The shadowy lump rips off the sheet and turns into a guy in his early twenties with a scraggly little beard and wicked bedhead. The voice belongs to a grumpy-looking woman wearing a fluffy pink bathrobe. She squints at him in the oppressive brightness, glaring for a long moment before apparently deciding to deal with the man on the table first.

“Wei Wuxian, I’ve told you a thousand times that the workshop is not a place for sleeping.”

“Technically—” the man begins, before being abruptly cut off by the woman.

“If the next words out of your mouth aren’t ‘yes, Wen Qing,’ then I don’t care. Go to bed.” She rounds on Xue Yang and he takes a tiny, involuntary step back. “You. What are you doing here?”

Before Xue Yang can answer, another guy—this one with long hair, killer tats, and a dedication to the goth look Xue Yang has to admire—runs in with a baseball bat held in his hands like a club.

“Jiejie! Is there something wrong?”

The woman—Wen Qing, she’d said—pinches the bridge of her nose and says, “It’s fine, A-Ning. I’m just trying to figure out what this little hooliganthinks he’s doing breaking into my house and tripping all of my wards while I’m trying to fucking sleep .”

Xue Yang is now convinced that what he’s broken into is some kind of madhouse, and he pastes a charming smile on his face, the one he uses when fists are clenched and the smell of alcohol burns in his nose. The smile whispers words like “anger issues” and “prone to destruction,” and it’s usually weapon enough, but he holds his knife a little tighter too, just in case.

The woman snaps around like she’s felt his fingers grip the handle of the blade and holds out her hand. “Give it to me.”

No. He will not. His chin tips dangerously, his smile grows icy spikes.

Her eyes narrow. “I could just take it.”

They face off for a minute, the tension almost palpable. Actually, Xue Yang thinks, it’s not tension after all. There’s something else in the air. It reminds him of the buzzing fence, and he doesn’t like the way it confuses him.

“Ah, Wen-jie, let him keep her. Can’t you tell? The kid is scared, they’re both scared, and it’s not like he can hurt us.”

Xue Yang is offended. He is not scared, but he’s relieved that Wei Wuxian spoke up all the same, because even though Wen Qing purses her lips and looks annoyed, she drops her hand.

“Fine.” She crosses her arms again. “Wei Wuxian, make sure our little guest leaves. I’m resetting the wards in five minutes and going back to sleep.”

“Yeah, sure.” Wei Wuxian grins and shoots finger guns at Wen Qing. “Sleep well and dream of me.”

Wen Qing rolls her eyes. “Yes, because I love having nightmares.”

“Oh shoo.” Wei Wuxian flicks his hand at the goth man and Wen Qing. “To bed with you both. I can handle it.”

Their footsteps creak on the wooden floors as they walk further into the house. Xue Yang and Wei Wuxian wait in silence until the footsteps quiet, and then Wei Wuxian turns to Xue Yang. The grin he’d been wearing drops off his face and he looks serious, his eyes shaded and dark.

“Look kid, you should know better than to piss off powerful witches. It tends to be bad for the health.” The side of his mouth just barely tilts upwards, more wry than mirthful, and he looks old now. Old and grey and tired. “So, we’ll just call this a learning experience, and you’ll never come here again, right?”

Xue Yang snorts. “Are you kidding? If you’ve got real magic why the fuck would I leave now?”

“Toddlers shouldn’t swear.”

“I’m almost fourteen, fuck you very much.”

“Ah yes, I am now so convinced you are an adult.” Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes. “It’s two in the morning. You want to go home and go to bed. There’s nothing here for you to be curious about at all.”

Something sibilant and musical weaves its way through the words, and Xue Yang has his hand on the door knob before he fights off the slithering compulsion.

Holy fuck that was cool.

“Nah, I think I’ll stay,” he says, sauntering back casually, pausing to look at a weird painting of a monster facing off with an axe-wielding guy in front of a lighthouse. He feels a very strong sense of camaraderie with it right now.

Wei Wuxian sighs. “Sure, maybe you’ve got a little gift. But you’re a kid. Don’t you have parents who are going to, you know, notice you’re missing?”

Xue Yang stares him in the eyes, willing himself not to flinch. Something tells him this is a chance he’s never going to have again, a chance that requires honesty.

“No.” Xue Yang lifts his chin stubbornly. “I don’t.”

Wei Wuxian stares back, and Xue Yang gets the feeling that he sees all the years and all the disappointments that fit into that no. He doesn’t care. No one gives you what you want unless you take it.

This standoff lasts forever, or maybe it’s only a few seconds.

“She’s going to kill me,” Wei Wuxian mutters, and a little louder, “You can sleep on the couch tonight, but I’m locking you in the room and if you touch anything, I will turn you into a mannequin.”

He turns to leave, but looks back with a frown. “Wen Qing builds beautiful, elegant wards that you’ll never feel, never even notice if she doesn’t want you to. Mine will hurt. Don’t. Touch. Anything.”

Xue Yang decides, in the principle of magnanimity, to agree. “Whatever.”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head and points a finger at Xue Yang. “Go to sleep, kiddo.”

The words hold Xue Yang’s hand and lead him to the couch, make him lay down, and within minutes, he is asleep.

He opens his eyes to piercing sunlight and a pale face inches from his.

“What the fuck!” he yelps, instinctively grabbing for his knife and snapping it open.

“Mr. Wei, he’s awake and noisy,” the face says, and Xue Yang focuses on its features.

It’s the goth guy. His arms have full-sleeve tattoos, matching patterns of stark black geometric lines and circles, but his neck has weird black veins tattooed on it. His eyes, which are still way too close to Xue Yang’s, are so dark they’re practically black.

“Where’s the witch?” Xue Yang asks, sufficiently recovered to be an asshole.

“Boiling children,” Wei Wuxian retorts. He’s leaning over the table and taking notes in a tattered book, poking something with a tiny screwdriver. “It’s the only reason we let you stay.”

“Really?” Xue Yang can’t decide if that’s cool or terrifying.

“He’s always like that in the morning,” Goth Guy says conspiratorially. “By ten, he’s pretty nice again.”

“I’m never nice,” Wei Wuxian grumbles. “A-Ning, can you take our miscreant home, please? The last thing I need is cops knocking on The House door asking if we’re kidnapping children. Again.” “Okay, Mr. Wei.”

Xue Yang panics. He can’t go back there. Not since they found him alone with the fire. He knows what they’ll do, and he can’t go back. He won’t . He ducks under Goth Guy’s arm and has his knife angled under Wei Wuxian’s chin before he’s even processed the motor function commands “get up” and “don’t let him send you away.”

“No! You have to…” He scrambles though thoughts, desperate ideas, each one crazier than the last before he hits on words that work themselves loose from his mouth. “You said I had a gift, you have to teach me to use it.”

Wei Wuxian frowns, but instead of being afraid or angry, he tips his head and whistles, two notes that almost sound like a name. To his great shock and horror, Xue Yang’s knife vibrates in his hand, and his fingers snap open like a broken trap, dropping the knife onto Wei Wuxian’s waiting palm. He carefully folds the blade back into the handle.

“Jiangzai,” he says, almost affectionately.

It doesn’t mean anything, but then it does , and it hits Xue Yang so hard he collapses to the ground. The knife has a name, and he knows it’s right as soon as Wei Wuxian says it. Xue Yang’s heart pounds, and he hates it. He hates this motherfucker who just took his knife away and he hates the Goth Guy who is helping him back to his feet. He doesn’t want to stay anymore, and he shakes off Goth Guy, wishing he could throw his kindness on the floor and stomp on it.

Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes. “Okay, maybe you have a little bit more than a little bit of a gift. But you still can’t stay, and I’m not teaching you anything.”

Xue Yang snatches his knife— his Jiangzai—out of Wei Wuxian’s hand and stomps to the door. “Fine. Fuck you.”

He gets as far as yanking the door open and slamming it against the wall before he realizes that there is a person in the way, and she doesn’t look inclined to move.

“Here you go, kiddo,” she says, handing him a bag. “I bought you some clean clothes and a toothbrush. A-Ning will show you where the bathroom is. Come back down for breakfast when you’ve changed.”

This is somehow more terrifying than when she was yelling at him. Yelling he understands. Now she’s just being...creepy. He stares at her belligerently, and she sighs.

“Listen, you little shit,” she says, bending over to look him dead in the eye. She doesn’t have to bend very far, he realizes. She’s actually tiny, even though she seems as big as the Fremont troll. “You will either go willingly with A-Ning, who is very nice, or you can test my patience and get buried in the yard with all the rest of the naughty children who break into my house. Your choice.”

Yeah, that’s more solid ground.

“Fine.” He grabs the bag from her and waves at the Goth Guy. “Lead the way, A-Ning .” He means it to be an insult, but Goth Guy just grins.

Xue Yang hears Wei Wuxian ask, “Wen Qing, what the fuck,” before Goth Guy herds him up the wide staircase, and he doesn’t hear any more of her answer than, “A-Xian, I can’t let him leave. You don’t understand, I did a location…”

This close to the Goth Guy, Xue Yang decides to acknowledge that the pale translucence of his skin is probably not makeup.

“I’m Wen Ning, by the way. I doubt Mr. Wei or jiejie introduced me,” Goth Guy—Wen Ning—says in a casual tone.

“So are you actually dead or what?” he asks Wen Ning, and Wen Ning grins.

“Or what,” he answers enigmatically, and gently shoves Xue Yang in a bathroom with pink tiles and a claw-foot tub.

Once he’s bathed and changed, Xue Yang heads back downstairs. Breakfast is bacon, eggs, and toast, and he doesn’t even pretend it isn’t the best food he’s eaten in a week. It is, in fact, the first food he hasn’t stolen in a week, and that alone is a novelty.

He’s halfway done with his food when Wei Wuxian, who hasn’t touched a bit of his and looks as sullen as an orange, says, “I have been informed that there is some arcane rule about teaching a gift you discover, and my...how did you put it, dear Wen Qing? My immortal soul and earthly being will be in danger if I don’t capitulate to the inevitable?”

He glares at Wen Qing, and she smiles sweetly at him.

“Whatever,” Xue Yang says around a mouthful of eggs. “Are you going to eat that?”

Wei Wuxian passes him the plate of food, and Xue Yang closes his eyes in bliss. Food is amazing.

“There are conditions—don’t look at me like that, Wen-jie. I agreed, okay? I get to set conditions. First of all, you do whatever I tell you. If I tell you to sell turnips on the street corner, you better sell some goddamn turnips. Second, you don’t touch anything unless I say it’s okay. A lot of this stuff,” he waves his hand around the white and yellow room, which looks surprisingly cheerful for a kitchen in a black house, “is priceless and dangerous, so…”

Wen Qing clears her throat and glares at Wei Wuxian.

“Uh...don’t touch anything.” Wei Wuxian finishes, snaking a piece of bacon from Xue Yang’s plate and shoving it into his mouth before disappearing back into his workroom.

Wen Qing rolls her eyes. “I promise he’ll actually teach you stuff once he pulls his head—” She visibly checks herself. “Once he stops being an idiot. More bacon?”

The rest is on AO3

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #xue yang #wei wuxian #wen ning #wen qing #Seattle #modern au #modern with magic #found family #the untamed fic #13k words #I just think teenage Xue Yang would have been very different with a family

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