#I’m a better person when there’s bleeding cuts on my thighs

[sweetie-peaches]

Maybe the being clean was the friends we made along the way

[tojbnuy]

boyfriend!toji when you randomly get your period.

you and toji had been cuddling on his couch for the past hour. toji had demanded you watch his favourite episodes of law and order with him as you both constantly bickered about who had better taste in shows. toji was also using this as an excuse to have you close, one of his favourite things to do with you was binge watch shows and movies. you were the type of person to make commentary throughout the entire thing but toji unfortunately found everything you said hilarious so he didn’t mind (though he would never tell you that). you’d watched two episodes by now and you were starting to feel ravenous.

“yeah alright doll i know, bbq wings and extra ranch.”

“awww look who knows my order off by heart”

“hard not to when you gobble it down 3 times a week.”

you punch his shoulder, obviously to no prevail as the man was built of muscle and muscle only. he tackled you back and the two of you go on play fighting until you sit up slightly and see the red mark on the thigh of toji’s sweatpants. toji’s face immediately turned into one of confusion, there’s no way he was bleeding from some play fighting, it didn’t even hurt? but you had realised what happened, you had realised but you really really hoped this one time you were wrong. and then toji saw the small red stain splotched on the back of your pyjama pants where you had previously been pressed into him whilst you were watching tv.

“uh oh baby d’ya get your period?”

“oh my god i think so” and with that you had ran off to the bathroom and locked the door. your heart was racing and your face felt like it was on fire. you and toji had only been dating for two months you were sure this would be it for him, he thinks you’re disgusting he has to. you peel your bottoms off and just as your about to get into the shower you hear a knock on the door.

“baby you wanna pass me your pants and i’ll put them in the wash?”

God why was he washing them? did he think you were the type of person to not offer to? how would you even give them to him he’d have to touch them? you didn’t have the voice to argue right then so you folded your pyjama pants as neatly as you could and without a word unlocked the door and plopped them into his waiting hands. he sounded like he had tried to get a word in but you had shut the door just as fast. he was probably going to ask you to leave as soon as you came out and you couldn’t blame him how could you have been so careless? you hadn’t heard from him again whilst you were showering and as hard as you tried you couldn’t get the tears to stop. you knew periods weren’t a big deal but you couldn’t help but feel so deeply embarrassed at what had happened. with trembling hands you crept your way to his bedroom and found some pajamas of yours you’d left on a previous stay. you’d also kept a stash of pads in his drawers for emergencies you just didn’t think they’d be this humiliating.

“mama you finished?”

after a few deep breaths you opened the door and braced yourself for him to ask you to leave.

“i’m so so sorry toji” you whispered, his name coming out of your mouth on a choked sob.

“mama what are you talking about?” toji didn’t know what to do. you were distraught, over some blood? he froze for a second at the sight of your red nose and bloodshot eyes, the hicuppy sounds of your quick breaths. then he swooped you into his arms and began caressing your back as he spoke.

“baby please tell me you aren’t this upset over getting some blood on me? like you haven’t cleaned my cuts and bruises hundreds of times by now”

“that’s not the same.” you said in between short breaths.

“it is tho baby. it’s just a bit of blood i’m a big boy i can handle it. in all honesty baby you could shit in my hands and i wouldn’t give a fuck.” he said in an attempt to make you laugh.

“toji ewww”

“kidding mama. kind of. seriously though baby look at me” he held your face gently in hands and lifted your head until you looked him in his eyes.

“you physically couldn’t do anything that would make me see you any less. you’ve done so much for me mentally and emotionally there is nothing on this planet that could ever make me be disgusted by you let alone something natural.”

you didn’t have any words to reply to him with and he didn’t need any. your expression had changed, the embarrassment had simmered down and all he could see now was affection and gratitude. toji understood you, he knew that sometimes you didn’t want to speak, especially after a long cry you had a tendency to stop talking for a while. with your face still held in his calloused palms toji pressed his lips into your soft ones. he pecked your lips, then moved to your nose, your forehead, over both your eyelids and then both your cheeks.

“my pretty girl. you want your wings now baby?”

and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the way your eyes lit up. you truly were his girl.

a/n : oh noooo he dropped his feminist literature books

[mrsshabana]

“𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞, 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮?"

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟐: 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Your village is attacked by a man-eating demon, killing everyone in his path. And unfortunately for you, your marechi blood attracts his attention. But instead of killing you, he has other ideas. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, violence, blood, oral sex, reader is on her period. ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.2k words

✧:･ﾟ→ Kinktober Masterlist

Gyutaro had spent the evening taking out his frustration on a small village not too far from the district. Having gotten into an argument with his sister earlier, he was in a sour mood and needed to destress. And what better way than to completely decimate a village of humans.

He had almost killed everything in sight when he smelt it. The smell of blood. There was blood all around him, but this blood was different. It was special. 

“There’s a marechi here…” 

His lips curl into a devious grin as he identifies the scent, immediately following it to the source. Marechi are no easy thing to come by, so Gyutaro counts himself quite lucky to have stumbled upon one. 

The delicious scent leads him to your huddled form. Hiding behind the rubble of a destroyed building. 

Your heart drops when you see him. The demon that killed everyone in your village is here to finish you off. You’re so afraid that you can’t even manage to speak, all you can do is let out pathetic whimpers as tears flood your vision. 

He creeps towards you, enjoying the fearful look in your eyes. But he suddenly stops, glaring down at you with a raised brow. 

“Where’s all the blood?” he thinks to himself. The scent of marechi blood is so strong, yet you don’t appear to be bleeding. A few bruises here and there but no cuts are visible from what he can see. 

With a frown, Gyutaro crouches beside you and looks you up and down. His eyes trail down before a smirk creeps onto his face. Now he understands. 

“Human,” he rasps, “what’s your name?”

His question catches you completely off guard. You aren’t sure if you’re more shocked that he bothered to ask for your name, or the fact that he hasn’t killed you yet. 

“My-my n-name is Y/N,” you say through hiccups and sobs. 

“Y/N? How cute…” he grins and grabs your face, “I’m Gyutaro.” His grip on your face tightens as he leans in closer to you, his breath reeks of blood. “Today’s your lucky day, I’m not going to kill you. So you can stop that pathetic crying now.”

“Wh-what? You’re sparing me?!” your eyes widen and you can’t help but smile knowing that your life won’t be ended tonight. “Th-thank you! Thank you so much!”

“You’re going to be my personal blood bank.”

Your smile immediately disappears, “B-blood bank?”

“Yeah,” he draws out the word, moving his body on top of you - caging you beneath him. “You see, you’re real special. Your blood is valuable to demons like me, makes us stronger,” he growls, “I coulda just killed you now and devoured every last drop. But I’d be able to get more outta you if I just drank from you every month…”

“Drink from me every month?” your face suddenly feels hot, “L-like my…”

“Your period, doll,” he smirks and licks his lips, “You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you? Or do I have to force you to open those pretty legs for me?”

A combination of terror and embarrassment washes over you. All of the things he is saying to you are so foreign, but you don’t have any other choice than to agree. Even though you really don’t want him to touch you like that, is it really worth dying over? After seeing so many people get brutally killed by him you’ll do anything to not suffer the same fate. 

“Ok,” you nod, “You can… d-drink my blood.” Your voice shakes as you slowly open your legs. 

“Good girl,” he coos - lowering himself down to your core and placing a hand on your thigh. He wastes no time lifting your skirt and tearing your panties off of you before tossing them aside. Your soaked pussy exposed to his hungry gaze. You’re so ashamed right now. Having grown up being taught that your menstruation was something to hide, especially around men, it’s hard for you to expose yourself like this to him. But he isn’t phased by it at all. And he most certainly isn’t disgusted. Just looking at the blood between your legs makes his stomach growl and his cock grow hard.

“So pretty,” he mumbles as he inches closer. So close that you can feel his warm breath hitting you while his hands have a firm grip on your thighs. 

Gyutaro can already see the blood coating your lips and it’s driving him crazy. He has to taste you.

He moves his face closer and licks your folds. When the taste hits his lips he can’t help but groan, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head. It’s been so long since he’s had marechi blood, it’s taking all of his willpower to not devour you right now. 

“Taste so good,” he goes in for another taste. Eagerly lapping his tongue between your folds and along your slit. 

“Ah!” You gasp as he continues feasting on you. Right now you feel so sensitive, so his actions feel even more pleasurable. So much so that your fear gets pushed aside and you completely submit to him. Moaning beneath him as he has his fill. 

His cock twitches in his pants as he eats you out. The heavenly combination of your pretty pussy and the taste of your sweet blood sends him to cloud nine. Not only is your blood the tastiest he’s ever had, but you’re also one of the most stunningly beautiful women he’s ever seen. He can’t help but slowly rock his hips into the ground as he eats you out. Not able to tear himself away from your addicting taste, but also seeking any friction he can get. 

He wants to fuck you so badly, but he knows he’ll have time for that later. Besides, you’re going to be his little human pet after this. Your taste is so addicting that it’s able to distract him from the aching in his cock for the time being. 

Once he’s licked you clean he delves his tongue inside of you, eager for more. His tongue is not like any you’ve seen before, it’s long and thick. Able to reach spots inside of you that even your fingers have never touched. 

Continuously he burrows his tongue inside of you, then slides it back into his mouth to consume every drop you have to offer him. He quickly loses control, eating you like an animal. 

And his ministrations leave you squirming and moaning in pleasure. When he slides his tongue into you again and feels your walls tighten around him, he moves his thumb over your clit and starts rubbing tight circles. 

“That’s it, be a good girl and gimme more.”

His tongue and his fingers become too much for you, and quickly push you over the edge. Your orgasm hits you harder than ever before. Toes curling, back arching, and nails digging into the dirt. “Ahhh~ Gyu-Gyutaro!!” You yelp as your body shakes beneath him.

He holds your thighs still and continues to slurp away at your sweet nectar. Your orgasm causing more to flow onto his tongue. 

“So makin’ you cum makes you bleed more?” he grins, showing off his blood covered fangs. “Then we’re gonna be busy all night.”

[herofics]

A day worth waiting for

A/N: I really felt like writing some angst with Gojo. Also, I’m feeling kinda shitty, so I needed something to cope with it. I’m not suicidal specifically, but it keeps kinda flashing in my mind as a “you could do that though” if that makes sense. I started writing this like 3 months ago, but I didn’t finish it then, so I’m writing it now

Warnings: Self-harm, blood and suicide attempt-ish

You were just laying on the floor, staring at the ceiling. You had no clue how long you’d been laying there. It might have been minutes, or it might have been hours, you had no idea.

You didn’t feel anything, you were just numb, maybe not even numb, every emotion just felt the same. It was like all the colors were gone.

You stretched your hand towards the ceiling. You were wearing a t-shirt, so you could clearly see the scars that covered your wrist. There were no fresh ones, hadn’t been in a while, but the urge was still there, the urge to rip your skin open and let your life bleed out of you.

And why wouldn’t you? There wasn’t anything here for you. Gojo would be fine without you, he was the strongest, after all. He would probably even be better off.

“It’s decided then” you muttered while getting up from the floor.

You tried writing a note, and even though the idea of ending your life made so much sense in your head, you couldn’t figure out a way to explain it on paper. The only words you managed to put down were “Forgive me, Satoru. I hope you don’t curse me too much”. A few tears fell on the paper, smudging the ink.

You went to draw yourself a warm bath, before rummaging through the drawers under the sink to find a razor blade. You threw off your sweatpants and climbed into the tub in your underwear and a big t-shirt.

You exhaled deeply, before looking up at the ceiling. Were you really going to do this? Were you ready to leave yet?

That’s when you heard the bathroom door open. You quickly submerged the razor blade and hid it under your thigh before Gojo saw it. You managed to cut yourself in the process. How did you not hear him come into the apartment?

“Whatcha doing in the tub with your clothes on?” he smirked from the doorway, not yet putting the situation together.

He was just standing there, looking like his normal dashing self. He took off his blindfold, like he always did when he came home to you.

“I fell in” you lied.

Gojo took a step closer, chuckling, about to say something, when he noticed the blood in the water. The smile died on his lips as he realized what was going on. He knelt down next to the tub and grabbed both your hands, checking your wrists.

He sighed in relief as he realized you hadn’t done anything yet. Then where was the blood coming from?

You saw the panicked look in his eyes as he still held your hands in his while looking for the source of the blood.

“I nicked myself-myself when trying to hide the razor blade” you hiccuped, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Oh doll” Gojo said softly, before pulling you up with him as he stood up.

He took your shirt off you and grabbed a big, fluffy towel, wrapping it around you.

“I need you to talk to me, and I think you need that too” Gojo said as he stood in front of you.

There was something different about the way he looked at you. Anger you would have recognized, but this wasn’t it. Fear? Was it really fear you saw in his eyes?

“Satoru?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay? You look kind of scared” you noted.

“First of all, I think I should be asking you that. Secondly, I think my fear is pretty justified when I find the person I love sitting in a bathtub filled with water, ready to open their wrists”

“Well that sounds a bit gruesome” you muttered.

“Am I wrong?” Gojo asked, tilting his head to the side.

There was a moment of silence between you, before you spoke a simple, quiet: “No”

You couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. Once you said it out loud, admitted what you were going to do, it was like a dam broke. You just started sobbing uncontrollably.

“It’s okay doll, it’s okay” Gojo assured as he picked you up and carried you out of the bathroom.

You were still wrapped in the towel and holding onto Gojo’s jacket for dear life. You didn’t even remember what had originally gotten you so upset that you would resort to what you had attempted to do.

Gojo had been through this with you before. The last time this happened, it was with you trying to overdose on your medication. It was one of the few times in his life he had been absolutely terrified. Seeing you laying there unconscious, with an empty pill bottle next to you, had been one of the most horrific moments of his entire life.

Now it was happening all over again, but this time he had been on time. This time he had gotten to you before you’d done anything stupid, this time he’d managed it. After Suguru left, Gojo had sworn he wouldn’t lose anyone else like that. He wouldn’t let anyone else disappear into the shadows again.

Gojo sat down on the bed, still holding you in his arms.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-so sorry” you kept blubbering while burying your face to his chest.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay” Gojo said, grabbing your hand and attempting to ground you through his touch. “Just breathe”

After your breathing and crying calmed down, you looked up at him with tearful eyes.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened” you muttered, trying to get up from his lap.

“Nu-uh, you’re not going anywhere till we talk” he pulled you back.

“What am I even supposed to say?”

“Just something, I don’t want you to be alone with this. You know I won’t leave you alone before I get a satisfactory explanation” he half joked.

Gojo just wanted to hear you say that you’d be okay. He just wanted to hear you say this was just a fluke, and it wouldn’t happen again. At the same time, he knew you couldn’t promise that. That you wouldn’t just magically start getting better, because you or he wanted you to.

“I don’t know what happened. It just seemed like the right choice, but the second I saw you, I was like “What the fuck am I doing?” and it didn’t feel like it made any sense anymore”

You kept staring at your hands while leaning the side of your head against his chest. What you said was true. Seeing him had made you change your mind in the end. You could have tried to reach for the razor again, even though it would have been futile with him in the same room. He would have stopped you, no doubt about that, and besides you didn’t want him to see you do that to yourself. The act itself was way different from just seeing the aftermath.

“Well I’m glad I have that effect on you, but that doesn’t really give me much insight to your mental state right now”

“I guess it doesn’t, but I don’t really know what else to tell you” you sighed.

You just sat there in silence, Gojo embracing you and you leaning against his chest. You didn’t know what to tell him. Even if you managed to formulate something that would make sense to you, it would probably just sound crazy to him. It was so hard to put any of it into words, let alone in a way someone else would understand.

“I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, but I just want you to know that no matter what you think, I’m not better off without you, and neither is anyone else you know” Gojo said suddenly.

“Thank you” you said after a while more of silence, looking up at him.

“What for?” he asked as he met your gaze.

“I guess I just appreciate the reminder at times like these”

“I’ll remind you for the rest of our lives, if you’ll let me” he smiled softly.

You placed a hand on the side of Gojo’s face and caressed his cheek with your thumb.

“I’d like that”

Maybe one day you’d love life as much as you loved him, maybe that day was worth waiting for.

[wintersoldiersoul]

I just realised you already have a post similar to my previous ask so maybe could you write something where Bucky noticed reader was struggling with self harm a while ago and thought she was better but she isn’t and he helps her 🥺

TW: self-harm, blood, depression, please do not read if any of these things will upset you. Love you all and reach out to someone if you need to <3

You didn’t know what had happened. You couldn’t even remember how you had ended up where you were. One second you were crying in bed and suddenly you were on the bathroom floor, blade in your hand and covered in fresh cuts. 

It had been so long. You were doing so well, about a week away from being 2 years clean. You tried so hard to prevent it from happening but Bucky being gone made it so much harder. When you had first told him about your self-harm and depression, he had sat down with you and made a “safety-plan”.

“If you feel like you’re gonna hurt yourself, the first step is find me, okay?” He had spoken sternly. “If I’m not here, you call. And if I don’t answer on the first try, you keep calling. Second step is to distract yourself. Go on a walk, bake something, it doesn't matter. Just don’t let yourself sit in the dark thoughts.” As he spoke, he wrote everything down on a piece of paper. “And listen,” he grabbed your hands and looked into your eyes. “If I don’t answer, for some reason, you call someone else. You call Natasha or Tony or any other person in your life. You cannot let yourself be alone when you feel this way.” You nodded, fully planning on doing just that if the time ever came. But when you woke up this morning filled with a primal need to hurt yourself, you didn’t even remember the plan.

It was like nothing mattered except for feeling the blade against your skin and watching the blood pour out. The emotional pain that you were in needed to escape. You needed to feel it in a physical capacity. So you didn’t call Bucky. Because you knew he’d stop you. And you didn’t wanna be stopped. 

You regretted it the second you made the first cut. All of that progress you had made, gone within the blink of an eye. You’d have to remember to erase the day marking your 2 years clean on your calendar. The shame you felt didn’t stop you though. It just made you want to hurt yourself more. You were ashamed and felt like a failure. You cried as you dragged the blade over your wrists, mumbling to yourself how stupid and worthless you were. How you always let everyone down. 

You dissociated as you cut, robotically moving to your thighs once you ran out of space on your arms. You couldn’t stop, even as you grew dizzy from the blood loss. Your head was pounding from it and the dehydration caused by your tears but you couldn’t bring yourself to get up off the floor. Eventually, you put the blade down but you continued crying, the crimson of your blood staining the white-tile floor.

You didn’t hear the front door open. Didn’t hear Bucky calling out for you, home from the mission. His heart sped up as he walked further into the house, hearing your broken sobs coming from the bathroom. “Y/N? Sweetheart?” He called, getting closer. He didn’t wanna frighten you but his gut told him that something was incredibly wrong. He knocked on the door, but you didn’t register it. There was no time for you to even attempt to cover up what you had done, plus you knew he’d find out eventually. Bucky’s favorite thing to do when he got home from a mission was to rip your clothes off.

His heart stopped when he opened the door. There you were, hugging your knees to your chest, crying hysterically and bleeding out. There was so much blood coming from your arms and your thighs. “Oh my god,” was all he could say as he rushed over to you. “Oh my god, oh my god,” he kept repeating, trying to assess the damage you had done to yourself. “Baby, can you hear me? It’s me, it’s Bucky,” he said, trying to get you to calm down and talk to him. You were still in your own little world as you cried. 

“I’m sorry,” you cried, fully realizing that he was there. He grabbed you and hugged you tightly and you could feel his body shaking as he did. “I’m so sorry,” you sobbed into his chest.

“Baby, we gotta stop this bleeding or I’m gonna have to take you to the hospital.” He wanted to talk this out with you, to comfort you, but right now, you were bleeding out in his arms. “Can I move you? I’m just gonna sit you up on the sink, okay?” You nodded and he gingerly moved your body so that you were perched on the sink, back against the mirror as it was hard to hold yourself up. He created makeshift tourniquets, a skill that he still had from the war, and wrapped them around your arms and legs. “Oh my god,” he said, once again.

You looked up at him with wide eyes. “I got blood on your shirt…” you whispered quietly.

“It doesn’t matter, don’t worry about it.” He assured you, cupping your face in his hands. “I gotta clean these cuts, I’m sorry,” he said, removing the tourniquets once the bleeding had mostly stopped. You winced as he dabbed at your skin, the sting from the contact immediate. “I know, sweetie, I know, I’m sorry,” he repeated words of encouragement to you. “Just breathe, please. Take a deep breath. It’s almost over.” He took his time in ensuring everything was clean and that the bleeding was stopped before he applied bandaids. “What did you do, baby?” He looked up at you with sadness in his blue eyes. “You-you’re covered,” he said, voice dropping to a whisper as tears started falling down his face.

You looked down, too ashamed to look him in the eyes. “I don’t know what happened… I just woke up today and it just hurt so much and I just… I don’t know. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Why didn’t you call me? What about your plan, remember?” 

“I knew you’d stop me…” Your voice held so much shame.

“You’re damn right I would have!” His voice grew loud, but he wasn’t yelling at you. He knew you couldn’t help the mental illness you struggled with. And he saw how hard you fought every single day. Even though you had slipped up, he was still so incredibly proud of the time you had spent clean and he would dedicate every second to helping you get back on track. As long as you were willing to try, how could he be mad at you? “I’m not angry at you, I’m just… oh god, I’m terrified. I’d be worried no matter what if you relapsed but baby, you did some serious damage.” 

“I know,” you said. “I’m so angry at myself. I was a week away from 2 years. And I fucked it all up!”

He tilted your chin up so that you were looking at him. “Do you wanna stay clean again? Do you wanna get back on track?” You nodded. “Then you didn’t fuck anything up, okay? You’re human and you struggle. That's normal and okay. Of course I wish you didn’t do this. I hate seeing you in pain more than anything in this entire world. But baby, don’t be angry with yourself. Use that emotion as motivation to continue getting better. Please don’t let this send you spiraling back down into a place that’s gonna be even harder to get out of.”

You wiped some tears off of your face. “It’s so hard being alive, Bucky. Even on the good days, the depression is always there in the back of my mind. Even when I’m happy, it’s like I’m never really happy. Maybe true happiness just isn’t in the cards for me. I just wanna end it.”

“Honey…” your words broke his heart. You could see it on his face. “I know how hard it is and how much you struggle. You have no idea how badly I wish I could take away all of your pain. Seeing you like this… god, it breaks me apart. I’m so scared for you. I’m so worried about you,” his body was still shaking slightly. “But you deserve happiness. You deserve it more than anyone. You have such a beautiful soul and you inspire me every single day that you get up and live your life even though you struggle. Happiness is in the cards for you. I know that because I will spend every waking minute of the rest of my life trying to make you happy.” He brushed your hair behind your ears. “I love you so much. Please don’t leave me here alone. I-” he took a deep breath, trying to hold back tears but failed as they slipped out anyway. “I can’t do this without you. I can’t be in this world without you.” 

He pulled you into a tight hug, resting your head on his chest. The two of you stayed like that, both crying against each other’s bodies. It was heartbreaking, the way your sadness broke him, too, like you were one soul sharing two bodies.

“Let’s get you into some clean clothes, okay? You’ll feel better.” Your shorts and shirt were both stained with red. He helped you change into a pair of clean pants and a sweatshirt, being extra careful as he noticed your grimaces of pain each time the material touched your skin. You both got into bed, exhausted from the intense emotional turmoil that the night had stained you with. 

The two of you lay on your sides facing each other. Bucky wordlessly stroked your hair, looking deep into your eyes. “I’m never gonna abandon you. No matter how many times you slip up. I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed your forehead before pulling you into a tight hug. “Never.”

[naomis-daydream]

ex-factor // modern au!officer!izogie

summary: exes who can’t let each other go, based on ‘ex-factor’ by lauryn hill. izogie gets hurt and calls the one person she needs to feel better, but also the same person she should stay away from.

warnings: mentions of injuries (blood, cuts, changing bandages), past relationship, suggestive language.

a/n: i have been neglecting my girl, so i present a treat for u. this is my first angst so lower them expectations pls… those who were asking for izogie content here u go, show her love <3

✧

it could all be so simple, but you’d rather make it hard. loving you is like a battle, and we both end up with scars. tell me who i have to be to get some reciprocity. cause no one loves you more than me, and no one ever will.

she shouldn’t have called you, she knew that. she should’ve left you alone, let you move on. though, a part of her hoped you’d answer. that you’d sigh, complain about the hour or nature of the call before inevitably caving, but you didn’t. you didn’t do your usual game of answering on the last ring just to keep her on her toes. you didn’t let it go to voicemail before sending a text saying you were too busy or too tired, but not enough to ignore her. you didn’t do anything, and that surprised izogie, maybe even hurt her, but it didn’t stop her.

it didn’t stop her from ignoring the alarms in her head telling her to turn around. it didn’t stop her from pushing the lift button and knocking weakly on door. and it certainly didn’t stop the small smile that crept up her lips as the barrier opened to reveal you.

your tired expression dropped slightly, being replaced by one caused annoyance rather than interrupted slumber. your cardigan fell off one shoulder as you rubbed your eyes while sighing. “what are you doing here, izogie?”

she looked down at you, forearm pressed against the doorframe while the other clutched her abdomen. “when you say my name like that, it almost makes me think you don’t wanna see me,” she laughs gently, immediately groaning lowly after.

this draws you to look down to her midriff, seeing her applying pressure to the area that was an increasingly growing deep red stain on her gray Police Academy shirt. your eyes widen quickly as you open the door entirely to guide her her in, locking it behind you as she leans against the island. “what happened?” you ask hurriedly, walking briskly to grab your emergency kit.

she smacks her teeth, shaking her head. “you worry too much.”

“yeah? you show up battered and broken in the middle of the night too much, so i think i’m well within reason.”

you crouch down, avoiding her eyes watching you as you took out supplies. she stays silent for a moment, unsure if she should attempt to make conversation. it’s been longer than usual since the two of you have spoken, much less been in such close proximity.

“it’s just a graze.” she says finally.

you look up, soaking a wash cloth with water as she continues. “the bullet. it only grazed my skin, didn’t puncture enough to go through.”

“but enough to cause so much bleeding,” you say, reaching to clean the blood from her stomach as she instinctively held up a side of her shirt.

this wasn’t her first time coming here, maybe not her last. the two of you did the whole will they, won’t they dance for nearly two years during your friendship. the tension between you was palpable, and it didn’t help that you got along so well too.

she got all parts of you—the late nights, early mornings, and countless hangouts in between. stolen kisses on hands and foreheads, hugs that lasted a bit too long to be platonic, and roaming hands when one thinks no one else is looking. she would tease and flirt shamelessly, often leaving you with a racing heart and an ache between your thighs.

until one day she didn’t. one day she went all the way. it was heavenly, her giving you so many parts of her. only it was never all of her, and you were okay with that—with waiting. relationships take time, which you understood, but after a year of being together, she still wasn’t ready. she wasn’t ready to introduce you to family, tell you more about her life before moving from her home country, talk about moving in together. she also wasn’t ready to tell you why she was so hesitant, so stubborn with you, hellbent on locking you out.

so, you had to let her go.

“why didn’t you go to the hospital?” you ask, breaking the deafening silence that filled the room. “they could help you a lot more than i can,” you say, gaze glued to your hands applying disinfectant to your wound.

“i’m sure they could, but you’ve always had better bedside service,” she replies, wincing shortly when you press into her stomach. you raise a brow in warning, continuing to clean her injuries.

there was a reason you hadn’t answered her calls, hadn’t replied to her texts. you broke up over four months ago, yet every time she called, you came, and if you didn’t, she’d come to you. the cycle was unhealthy, you knew that, but so is the insatiable drug they call love.

izogie knew that you’d come too, because that’s what you do for those you love. a part of her felt bad for preying upon a vulnerable piece of your heart, the piece that’d she carved herself into, but the other craved being around you, because only you could make her feel better. though lately, you’d been pulling away. the leftover love you held for her was fading, because in your heart you both knew that she wouldn’t change, and that this cycle would repeat until one of you let go.

you finished disinfecting the wound, applying anti-inflammatory healing ointment before wrapping gauze around her torso. once you finished, you looked up at her, finding her eyes already on you. her mouth parted to allow her tongue to wipe over he bottom lip.

“this position is awfully familiar, no?”

you blinked up at her before rubbing your hands over your thighs as you stood. looking around you wrapped your cardigan around yourself. “well, you’re all patched up, so…i don’t see any reason for you to stay.”

“not one?” she asks, head turning as you washed your hands beside her.

you kept your eyes on the suds forming on your hands. “not a good one.” you clarify.

she hums quietly as you dry your hands, turning to face the island as you put away the kit. “you don’t worry about me anymore.” she states instead the usual question. “what if i need assistance changing my bandages?”

“then you go to the hospital, izogie. not show up at my place well after midnight expecting me to fix you.” your reply comes out tired, and you are, so you’re finally letting her know.

“yet you always do, don’t you?” her words come out more bitter than she intends. you shut the closet door, turning to her.

“maybe that’s the problem.”

her face softens, brows that were previously knit relaxing in your presence. you exhale, trying to find the words that have been struggling to come to light for weeks.

“i can’t do this anymore,” you say, motioning between the two of you. “this back and forth, running ‘round in circles thing with you. i did when we were friends, i did it when we were together, but i can’t do it now.”

izogie’s head drops, palms tightening into fists atop the counter as she listens. “i’ve given you so much, and i’ve been fine with hardly anything in return, but i deserve better than that.”

your voice is soft and timid as you speak, fingers fiddling absentmindedly with the hem of your sleeve as your eyes begin to shine. you look down to prevent izogie from seeing her effect on you, but she already has. her heart falters seeing you cry, especially knowing she’s the cause. “so, i need you to go,” you say, sniffing as you look up, as a tear falls down your cheek, “i need you to let me go.”

the taller woman bites the inside of her cheek, an attempt to get that pain to mask the one she felt in her chest. she hated seeing you cry, and would often tell off anybody who did so much as look at you wrong, but this time, she needed to take a long look in the mirror. look at the woman who made the love of her life struggle to hold on to the pieces of herself in her own home.

so she walks around the counter, going to stand directly in front of you as she takes you in, trying to cement the moment to memory. you don’t want to look at her, because you risk breaking the fragile boundary you’ve been trying to create. it isn’t until she shakily whispers, “please, look at me,” that you slowly lift your eyes to hers. her irises are swimming with emotions you know all to well; regret, uncertainty, acceptance.

her lower lip trembles. you frown, wanting to ease her pain, but you know that’s impossible without hurting yourself in the long run. she wraps strong arms around your waist as she pulls you into her. hesitantly, you curl your arms up her shoulder blades, both of you relaxing into the other’s touch. izogie tucks her chin into your neck, closing her eyes as your hands press into her. you feel damp droplets prick onto your skin through the wool of your top as her arms get impossibly tighter around you, wanting you closer.

you stay there. every word left unsaid or actions left undone being released in the moment, being freed.

you’re the first to pull away, hands sliding down her back, trailing down her forearms and to her hands. you breathe deeply as you look up at her, tear-stained cheeks glistening under the warm light.

she keeps her eyes on you as she walks backwards, holding onto your hand until her arms can no longer reach. you fold your arms around your middle, watching her as she grabs the knob, giving you one last look. you close your eyes, looking down to your sock-clad feet, only looking up once you hear the door shut.

gone, you think, which is good. it should stay that way.

right?

i keep lettin’ you back in. how can i explain myself? as painful as this thing has been, i just can’t be with no one else. see i know what we’ve got to do. you let go, and i’ll let go too. cause no one’s hurt me more than you, and no one ever will.

✧

taglist: @princessmel-1995 @gonesgone

[jovialtorchlight]

Ballad of Johnny Kidd

My name is Johnny Kidd. I’m a bad, bad man. I’m cold, on the verge of death, stumbling through a fierce winter storm somewhere just North of Bangor, Maine, a bullet lodged in my thigh. I was following an old logging road out of the deep woods. I got lost, trailing spurts of blood like a breadcrumb trail. I see it; a tiny flicker of light through the lashing white snow. The cabin. I pound on the door. 

“Mister! Please, it’s so cold out here! Please, let me in! I’ll…I’ll freeze to death!”

An old man unlatches the door; I practically fall into the cabin, legs giving out, trembling. He’s walking towards the fire, doesn’t offer to help me up. Doesn’t even look at me. I think shit, I’m bleeding all over his floor, but the bleeding has stopped. 

“Strip to your birthday suit, right there in the mudroom. Hang it up. It’ll dry.  Don’t be bashful, kid. I won’t peek. Got a pair of long johns hanging on the coat rack. Once you put them on, grab the folded blanket, wrap yourself in it tight,” he says. 

I follow his directions. 

“You’re a real kind person, mister. Thank you,” I said, ambling towards a chair by the fire. 

“Kindness has nothing to do with it. Just don’t want to see anyone else freeze to death on this mountain path. Hard times claim enough good folk around these parts. Don’t need to lose anyone else,” he said, staring into the crackling flames. 

            Goodness has nothing to do with it, I think. I’m naked under the blanket, ‘cept for a sawnoff shotgun strapped to my back. 

“I really owe you my life, sir. I can already feel my bones warming. Blood thawing out.” 

“Any frostbite?” the old man asks. I looked down. I was already toasty. Fingers and toes looked fine. 

“I don’t think so, sir.”

“Good, good. Sit. Warm yourself by the fire. Don’t have a bed in this shack, but you can sleep in the chair. Hopefully the storm will be finished by morning.”

I linger, not sitting. I’m scoping out the cabin, ready to pull the loaded gun from my back and spatter this oltimer’s brains on the wall. He doesn’t have much. It’s a bare wood cabin with cedar planks and a woodstove with rusted pots and castiron pants.

“I do appreciate it, sir. Truly. It’s a whitewash out there. Any longer, the snow would have swallowed me completely. My company wouldn’t have found me until the spring thaw.”

The old man doesn’t break eyecontact with the fire. He chuckles. 

“Company. You mean your gang of bank robbers?”

My hand moves to the gun. I’m about ready to end this foolishness.

“Sir, what do you mean?  I work cutting trees.”

The old man’s voice drips with contempt. 

“No you don’t. You’re a much better shot than you are a liar. You’re Johnny Kidd.”

I drop the blanket, naked. I draw the gun from my back. The Old Man doesn’t flinch. 

“Damn. Nothin’ gets past you, old man. Move and this room gets a new coat of paint. Say, you haven’t even looked at me yet. Am I that famous? You can tell who I am just from my voice?”

“I know you, Kidd.” the old man says.

“I guess so. Have we met?”

“I’ve seen the newspaper clippings. A sheriff came by the cabin a few days ago, said your gang might be around. Wanted by the federal government, and every bumbling, whiskey drunk county sheriff this side of the Mason-Dixon line. Look. I know you got a shotgun pointed at my cranium, to your back, and I know you’ve been thinking about shooting me in the head since you first came into this cabin. But I ain’t no lawman, and I ain’t trying to collect the bounty on you…even if I could finally retire down to Rio with your blood money,” the old man says, a soliquiy into the fire.

My hand lingers over the trigger. But instead, I speak. 

“Huh. Well, you marked me pretty good, oldtimer. Most people start cowering, throwing their watches and jewlery at me  when they figure out who I am.”

For the first time, the old man turns to face me. He’s normal, saggy skin and a long gray beard.  

“Kidd, when you first came in here, you said I was a kind person. I ain’t kind.  I could plead, sure. I could beg, say I just saved your life. But that don’t matter. You’re not the type of person that responds well to kindness, are you?”

Ha. Kindness, I think.  Fuck kindness. 

“No, I reckon not. I ain’t apt to “kind” my way out of a shootout.  Kindness ain’t ever done nothing for me. Pops was kind before he was fileted in his sleep by a drunkard he let stay in the hayloft.”

“That’s why I’m here. You ain’t gonna respond to charity, kindness, or the yolk of human compassion, are you, kid?”

His tone drops into a command. 

“Look into the fire.”

I try to pull the trigger, but my finger locks. I start to move towards the fire, like I’m being pulled like a boxcar on a railine. I try to fight the movement, but I can’t. I bend down and gaze into the dancing flame. 

“What do you see?,” the old man asks. 

“Jesus, what kind of witchcraft is--”

“Answer me. What do you see?”

I saw her. The boys and I had the bank on Main Street locked down, about to grab the bags of cash, jump in and speed away to hit the next town. She came out of the washroom, unaware we had the place held down. I shot her through the neck. She choked on her blood. I meant to shoot the wall to scare the clerk into opening the vault…the bullet ricoheted..I didn’t mean to shoot her.

“I see her. Jesus, shot her through the neck. I swear to God, I didn’t mean to--”

“Course not. Is that what you tell yourself when you’re alone at night? Is her throat, ripped open, the image burned in your eyelids?” 

I collapse on the floor, holding my face in my hands. The old man stands up from his rocker for the first time. 

“I’m almost sorry for you, kid. There ain’t any other way to set you straight but raw power, right? A kind sheep is still a sheep, and you’re a wolf, right, kid? You’re a predator, ain’t you? You sink your fangs and take whatever you want from those poor fieldmice cowering in fear, right?”

“Shut up,” I sputter. I gather myself, uncrumple from the floor, stagger to my feet. 

“You’re talking real funny, sir, and I implore you to stop--”

The old man laughs, spittle flying. 

“You ain’t gonna implore me to do nothing, kid.  Like I said,  I ain’t kind. But I’m just.”

He sits down. 

I draw the gun, aim it at his temple. 

“Ha. Just. You mean, you’re an agent of justice? What are you gunna do, old man? Tie me up and take me down to the jail? Kill me? I got a gun pointed at you, but I got a sawblade in my satchel... I’m gunna have some real fun with you.”

Old man sinks back into his rocker. 

“I ain’t going to cower, kid. I’m gunna show you something. Sit. Down.”

Despite everything in my body, I sit. 

“Watch the fire.” 

Depsite every voice echoing in my mind, I gaze again into the fire. 

“A dozen lawmen are tracking you. Been following you since you killed her.  In fact, they’re closing in on your camp now. Budd’s just got pumped with lead. Big Frank’s brain is oozing out. They’re following the tracks. They’re gunna find you, kid. Rather, they’re gunna find your frozen body next to your dead horse.”

I feel the pain of freezing to death; like someone stuck my body into a pit of ice blue flame. 

“Oh my god.” All I can manage. A whimper. 

“God ain’t got nothing to do with it,”  the old man says. “Savor it. Not a lot of men get to see how they die, Johnny.  But it doesn’t have to happen like that. You got a way out, kid.”

I don’t belive him. Ain’t no way out, I’m an cornered cat and he’s a rabid dog.  

“Instead of killing me, get up, take my seat by the fire. You’ll be waiting for a while. For as long as I have. Till some other poor fool gets lost in the storm. You help them, you help them thaw out, you send them away. Keep waiting by the fire. Or, you kill me. Outside these walls, it’s just ice. Ice, snow, and death,” he says.  

“I’m dead either way, ain’t I? I’m dead right now, ain’t I?” The question flashes like an explosion. “Am I dead? Am I dead?”

The old man shakes his head.

“I can’t answer that for you. You got to make a choice, now. Before the fire dies. We’ve been in here for a good bit of time already.”

I look at him squarely. He’s not reacting. Just a dirty, saggy, weathered old face. My fists clench. I want to kill him. But I let the wave of hate roll over me, and I’m left with whatever is left in the wreckage. The old man gestures for me to pass. I sit in his rocker. I look at the flames, for a few moments, an hour, a day, a year. I don’t know. I don’t care to know. The old man is gone. 

It’s cold. Someone is pounding on the door. 

“It’s freezing out here,” someone calls from outside. “You gotta help me, Mister!”

I don’t look up. 

“Come in. Door’s unlocked. Mind you don’t track in too much snow.”

[mint-moon25]

TENT - NOT - POP UP - JUST - TOSS - THEN - FOLD - INTO

ROUND - BALL - ITS - AUTO - SIGNS - MIAMI - SANITIZING

EVERY - WEEK - OVER - 7 YRS - TORTURE - ABUSE - SO

I - TRIED - YESTERDAY - 2 - DO - THAT - BUT - WHEN - ME

DID - AGAIN - FASTER - BUT - AUTO - TENT - SLICED YES

ABOVE - MY - R THIGH - NEAR - SHORTS - AREA - WAS

RED - CREATING - TENT - SLICED - MY - 2ND - FINGER

DIDN’T - KNOW - BLEEDING - WAS - FIXING - MY - UNIT

GIRL - MET - LONG - AGO - AT - BAYFRONT - PARK

MOM - 4 KIDS - SAW - NEXT - DAY - AT - LIBRARY

SHE - HAS ABOVE - STORAGE - STAIRS - NEEDED

SAW - ME - AFTER - 5A - WITH - HER - MALE - YES

FRIEND - GAVE - HER - MY - CHRISTMAS - GIFT AS

I - SHARED - SHOPIFY - ONLINE - STORE - HOW 2

DO - THAT - HER - MALE - FRIEND

AFTER - SAID - TRY VIRTUAL VAULT.com

2 ITEMS - GIVEN - VIDEOS - PHOTOS SO

MOST - LIKELY - ALI EXPRESS.com - HE

ASKED - HOW - MANY - ITEMS - I - SAID

‘2′ - WAS - GOING - 2 - ASK - ANOTHER

I SAID - I - NEED - 2 - TALK - 2 - HER XO

SO - CONTINUED - I - WAS - ABLE - TO

SET - TENT - BUT - I - WAS - BROOMING

HAD - 2 - CLEAN - SO - WENT - BACK IT

WAS - AFTER - 6A - INSIDE - SO - YES

BEAUTIFUL - NIGHT - AND - DAY - HAI

PARKING - PER - APP - I - LEFT - 1 CAR

NEAR - BOX VAULT - SELF - STORAGE

BLDG - ON - SW 2ND ST - FR - TRULY

123 SW NORTH RIVER DR

2 WAY - AS - IT - GOES - 2 - SW 2 AV

BLUE - TENT - COMING - OUT - I SEE

CHICA - 35 LBS - LARGE - BROWN DOG

LISA - AT - LITTLE - STRANGE - LIKE I’M

TAKING - HER - THUNDER - SAYING - I

WOKE - UP - CHICA - SHE - DOESN’T

WANT - ANYONE - 2 - GIVE - DRINK

NO - WATER - NO - WEE WEE

ILLEGAL - LAW - STATE - CONTAINER

HAS - 2 - HAVE - RUBBER - UNDERNEATH

NO - SPILL - WATER - MUST - B - SEEN AT

ALL - TIMES - I - GAVE - MY - IT - LOOKS

LIKE - REVERSE - GALLON - OF WATER

LOCK - THEN - JUST - CLICK - WATER

THEN - POURS - SHE - DRINKS ONLY

LIKES - ZEPHENYRL - FR - MEMORY

PUBLIX - 6 ST - NW 2ND AVE - $0.51

ALWAYS - COLD - THEIR - SALE SHE

DRANK - THAT - NATURAL - SPRING

WATER - SO - WILL - GIVE - THAT - 2

LISA - WAS - YELLING - AT - ME - SO

REMINDED - GAVE - U - MY - TENT 2

SHE - CUT - IT - SO - SHE - CAN SEE

PERSON - IT’s - SLIGHTLY - DESTROYED

BETTER - THAN - WHAT - SHE - WAS YES

USING - MINE - QUITE - BEAUTIFUL TRUE

INSIDE - THE - SIGN - MUST - TAKE - ALL

PERSONAL - BELONGINGS - WITH - YOU

EVERY - WEEK - SANITIZING - BUT - NOT

EVEN - AT - GOOGLE - SEARCH - WHAT

THEY - DO - EXCEPT - IT’s - TORTURE

ABUSE - HARRASSMENT - FELONIES

TRIED - 2 - OBEY - BUT - JUST - PUTTING

TENT - TOGETHER - WITH - POWDER XO

FREE - GLOVES - SLICED - MY - FINGER

AND - TODAY - FR - NOWHERE - GLASS

WENT - 2 - MY - R HAND - PALM - AND WAS

LIKE - SPLINTER - WAS - PAINFUL - I TRIED

2 - REMOVE - HOLY GHOST - HELPED - ME

REMOVE - THAT - GLASS - ON - MY HAND

I - HAVE - 2 - LEAVE - TENT - THERE - AS

I - START - MY - MEMBERSHIP - LA FITNESS

$49.99 - ONLINE - PRICE - TOMORROW YES

29TH - MY - SSI - $914 - SHOPIFY - HAVE - AN

OVER - $100 - DEBT - GLAD - 2-  PAY - BUT - I

AM GETTING - (.com) - DOMAIN - TOMORROW

NOT - RENEW - CAILEY.STORE - NEW ZOHO

EMAIL - ADDRESS - TECHNICAL - SUPPORT

HOW - 2 - DO - THIS - MAYBE - ANOTHER $7

$67 - MONTHLY - JORDAN WELCH

CAN’T - WAIT - THE - 2 - ITEMS TOO

HE - DOES - GIVE - TRIAL - PERIOD

THEN - THERE’s - FORM - SAMI CLARKE

WHAT - I’LL - B - DOING - $22 - SINCE - I

DID - 7 DAYS - B 4 - MAYBE - IMMEDIATE

MEMBERSHIP - WHICH - IS - OK - ALSO

SO - LOTS - OF - EXPENSE - WON’T - PANIC

TENT - GORGEOUS - INSIDE - IT’s - LIKE - A

BLUE - AND - WHITE - NICE - INSIDE - JUST

RIGHT - NOT - BRIGHT - UNLIKE - BEFORE

WARM - INSIDE - BUT - NOT - THAT - BAD

ALL - FREEZING - OUTSIDE - BUT - I’M XO

WEARING - SMALL - SHORTS - SO - GOOD

DOES - SHOW - A - CAMEL - AND - LOGO 2

BUT - IT’s - MISTAKE - DOESN’T - EMPHASIZE

I - NEED - 2 - PUT - ON - FARTHEST - HOLE

NOT - MIDDLE - HOLE - HAD - SUCH A HARD

TIME - THE - CHINESE - DIDN’T - DO - SIZE

RIGHT - MISSING - HALF - AN - INCH - YES

WAS - HARD - BUT - COULD - HAVE - BEEN

EASY - 4 FT - HEIGHT - SHOULD - B - 5 FEET

LENGTH - 7 FT - CAN - B - JUST - 4 FT - I’M

NOT - FAT - 5 FT - ONLY - 4 - WIDER - FOR

FATTER - HOW - TO - MAKE - THIS - FASTER

PUT - LIKE - SLICE - OF - BRED - POLES SO

INSERT - BUT - HAS - OPENINGS - SO - TO

MAKE - EASIER - THEY - SHOULD - HAVE

JUST - B - USE - BUTTONS - AND - BUTTON

ON - THE - POLE - THE - EDGE - SHOULD B

U - CAN - BRING - UP - AND - DOWN - LIKE

BECOMES - SHORTER - LONGER - U CAN

ADJUST - SIZE - SO - GOES - UP - DOWN

SO - CAN - PUT - INSIDE - HOLE - FASTER

OTHER - TENTS - THERE’s - CLAMPS BUT

THIS - ONE - NONE - BUTTONING - WITH

BUTTONS - IS - SOLUTION - SO - FASTER

INSTEAD - OF - RIBBON - ON - TOP JUST

VELCRO - SO - STRONGER - 2 - PUT YES

ABOVE - THEN - SMALL - RECTANGULAR

2 - PUT - ABOVE - LOUSY - DESIGN - ITS

SHOULD - B - SAME - JUST - LIKE - BUTTONS

JUST - CLICK - CLICK - CLICK - SO - FAST - 2

WILL - B - DESIGNING - TENTS - IN - FUTURE

BLUE - BECAUSE - DOGS - SEE - SHADES OF

THAT - AND - GREEN - ADD - YELLOW - BUT

CATS - SEE - SHADES - OF - BLUE - GREEN

SO - CHICA - CAN - SEE - MY - BLUE TENT

THUS - LEAVING - THERE - SO - I - CAN XO

GO - THERE - FR - LIBRARY - AND - TAKE A

NAP - ANYTIME - FELL - ASLEEP - TWICE 2

IT - WAS - LIKE - GRAVITY - PULLING - ME 2

SLEEP - STRONG - BUT - I’M - AWAKE NOW

AS - I - TYPE - LEAVING - AFTER - 4:30P FOR

WOMEN’s - RESTROOM - FINAL - CLEANING

4P - 4:30P - SO - CALCULATING - WHAT - ME

NEEDS - MAYBE - JUST - STARTING - THIS

ON - JANUARY - INSTEAD - BECAUSE - OF

MY - EXPENSES - BUT - THINKING - OF XO

JUST - DOING - NOTHING - EITHER - IT’s

WASTING - MY - TIME - NOT - DOING YES

ANYTHING - MOST - LIKELY - WILL - DO IT

I’M - 2 - CURIOUS - ABOUT - JORDAN YES

WELCH - PROGRAM - SO - I - DON’T - HAVE

2 - GO - 2 - THIS - LIBRARY - EVER - AGAIN

WANT - 2 - HAVE - APT - I - CAN - GO - TO

AND - SLEEP - SLEEP - SLEEP - TRULY 2

I - WANT - 2 - TACKLE - TIK TOK BUSINESS

WAS - EASY - B 4 - BUT - SANITIZING - YES

MY - FINGER - WAS - SLICED - TWICED AND

BEING - PARTLY - QUADRAPLEGIC - I - CAN

SAY - DIDN’T - KNOW - MY - FINGERS WERE

SLICED - AND - GLASS - LITTLE - JUST - YES

DIGGED - IN - BRINGING - MY - TENT - 2 HAI

FOLD - DAILY - WILL - DAMAGE - MY - HAND

DAMAGE - MY - TENT - SO - HAVE - 2 LEAVE

THERE - MY - SCHEDULE - LEAVING - 4:45A

WEEKDAYS - 2 - SHOWER - AT - 5:05A - WILL

BE - BEST - SCHEDULE - 4 - ME - NO - TRUE

LONGER - THERE - 2 - HARRASS - 2 - HURT

2 - ABUSE - GLAD - WE - HAVE - A - GOD - 2

PROTECT - US - BUT - ALWAYS - LEAVING

WITH - TENT - SLICED - MY - FINGERS SO

SANITIZING - AT - MIAIMI - 2 - KILL - THE

HOMELESS - ILLEGAL - MISOGYNY - THE

HARM - AND - ABUSE - OF - WOMEN FOR

MY - FINGERS - SLICED - IS - NOT FUNNY

BACK - AT - SW 2ND ST - BACK - 2 FOOD

GIVEN - 2 - US - I - SHARED - THANKSGIVING

AT - 12P - INSTEAD - OF - 5P - AND - LISA SHE

SCREAMED - THAT - THEY - POISON - PEOPLE

WALA - WALA - WALA - BIG - FATSO - ‘SARGE’

WAS - GOING - 2 - DOCUMENT - AND - FILM 4

YOUTUBE - 2 - GET - DONATION - AS - HE - IS

HOMELESS - BUT - THEY’RE - DOING - TAX

EVASION - NEVER - DECLARES - TAXES AS

EX - ARMY - 4 YRS - REQUIRED - VETERAN

BUT - POLICE - LOCKED - LOT - BECAUSE

HE - WAS - STARTING - EAT - EAT - EAT ITS

FREE - LIKE - THESE - PEOPLE - WILL YES

ALWAYS - B - ABLE - 2 - FEED - THESE HAI

LOOSERS - WHO - DON’T - WANT 2 WORK

SO - THEY - JUST - SET - TABLE - SAME AS

MY - NEW - ADDRESS - AFTER - TENT WAS

DELIVERED - SUNDAY - SW 2 ST - BUT - AS

McDONALD’s - CHEESEBURGERS - GOT 3

THE - MOST - 2 WATERS - ANOTHER - ASKED

ME - WENT - 2 - LOT 37 - PLATE - OF - QUITE

DELICIOUS - CHICKEN - WITH - SODA - COLD

THAT - WAS - GOOD - SO - WAS - NOT - VERY

HUNGRY - WHEN - FOOD - CAME - FOUND XO

OUT - GIRL - BLK - CLOTHES - WAS - PINAY - 2

THEY - MUST - HAVE - PUT - LEMON - FRESH

ON - ONE - FOOD - ITEM - MADE - ME - LOAD

OFF - LOTS - OF - DIAHRREA - HAD - 2 - YES

DISPOSE - OF - JEANS - PANTY - BUT PANTY

LOST - 2 - GLAD - HAD - HUGE - LAVENDER

TRASHBAG - PUBLIX - $3.99 - SO - I’M GOING

2 - ENJOY - DR JERRY SAVELLE - AS - 2 - YES

WHAT - 2 - DO - DECEMBER - MONEY - TRUE

TOMORROW - 2024 - YEAR - OF - GIVEN - US

PROGRESSION - ACHIEVEMENT - OR - YES

ACHIEVING - AND - HIGHEST - LEVEL - FINALLY

ATTAINED - LOVE - HIM - WITH - THE - UPS YES

STORE - $117 - CAN - GET - MY - VOTERS

INFORMATION - CARD - JOEL OSTEEN &

JOSEPH PRINCE - DR JERRY - SAVELLE

MAIL - 24/7 - ACCESS - NEAR - BRICKELL

STATION - 25 PACKAGES - EA - MONTH 2

TAX - DEDUCTIBLE - ALSO - I’M - EXCITED

BUT - HOPE - I - CAN - AFFORD - THIS DEC

DECEMBER - 2 - START - SHOPIFY - AGAIN

4 - OVER - $200 - I - NEED - 4 - AMAZON - 2

JESUS - IS - LORD

I - WILL - NOT - FEAR - BUT - ALWAYS - YES

AWAKEN - I - HAVEN’T - SLEPT - AGAIN FOR

24 HRS - BUT - 24 HRS - ACCESS - I - JUST

FINISHED - CLEANING - AND - FIXING - YES

EVERYTHING - BECAUSE - WALMART - TRUE

CLOTHES - HANGED - WAS - GOING - SIDEWAYS

LIKE - THE - STUPID - PLASTIC - BLK - THING - XO

WAS - GOING - SIDEWAYS - ONE - EDGE - WAS XO

DESTROYED - REPLACED - SO - CAN’T - WAIT - TO

THROW - I - WILL - PRAY - SING - PRAY - TONGUES

TONIGHT - SLEEP - PRAY - PRAY - SING - TONGUES

BACK - 2 B - ABLE - TO - HEAR - YOUTUBE - FAITH

AGAIN - FR - DR JERRY SAVELLE - CARS - YES ITS

STRONG - AS - IT - BRINGS - FR - MY - R - 2 - LEFT

SHAKES - STRONG - AS - CARS - SPEED - BY - SO

LIKE - HURRICANE - WINDS - 1 DOOR - GREATEST

BECAUSE - IF - FLOODING - THE - WATER - JUST

GOES - 2 - DUMP - ON - TENT - SIDES - SO - ONE

DOOR - FACING - FORWARD - BETTER - IDEA XO

LOVE - LOVE - INSIDE - REALLY - BEAUTIFUL - SO

GETTING - OVER - $60 - COT - AND - 14 INCH - YES

ELEVATION - AND - FOLDABLE - 15 LBS - BUT - I’M

BUYING - 500 LBS - CARRIER - SO - HERE’s - THE

SCENARIO - I’M - NO - LONGER - GOING - EVER 2

BAYFRONT - PARK - WILL - NEVER - GO - ANY YES

MORE - BUT - JUST - BAYSIDE - MARKETPLACE

VICTORIA’s - SECRET

FIVE - GUYS

(BURGERS - SHAKES - FRIES)

BEN’s - PIZZA - 2 - PLACES - 2

LOBSTER - SANDWICHES

SO - WEALTH - MEANS - EAT - EAT - EAT

AVENTURA - MALL

FOOD - COURT - WILL - GO - THERE - OFTEN

VILLAGE - PIZZA - ...

SPAGHETTI - HUGE - MEATBALLS

GARLIC - BREAD

CHICKEN - PARMIGIANA

PIZZA

OTHER - DIMSUM - THAI - MILK - BOOBA - YES

AFFORDABLE - FOOD - AND - DRINKS - YUMMY

GOING - 2 - AVENTURA - MALL - OFTEN - BUSES

OR - TRAIN - AND - BUSES - I - FORGOT - 2 - YES

MOOVIT + - OVER - $10 - PER - YEAR - WILL - DO

THAT - INSTEAD - OF - $1.99 - MONTHLY - LOVE

LOVE - DID - I - SPELL - THAT - RIGHT - 4 - THEY

SHOWED - STREET - NAMES - GOOGLE - MAPS

DIDN’T - SO - HAD - NO - IDEA - HOW - 2 ENJOY

CRATE - AND - BARREL - AGAIN - WHEN - JUST

SO - NEAR - WANTED - 2 - CRY - CRY AND - CRY

WILL - PRAY - SING - PRAY - AS - 2 - WHAT - 2 DO

SHOPIFY - NEXT - MONTH - OR - JUST - 2024 - AS

JANUARY - WILL - PRAY - SING - PRAY

NOT - DOING - THE - 2 YRS - OF - MIAMI - DADE

COLLEGE - FLOODED - MY - EMAILS - WITH XO

TRANSCRIPT - TRANSCRIPT - TRANSCRIPT

NOW - TELLING - ME - 2 - APPLY - 4 - FINANCIAL

AID - STRUMPETS - I’M - NOT - FULL - TIME - YES

THEY’RE - TREATING - ME - LIKE - REGULAR

STUDENT - INSTEAD - OF - KICKSTART SCHOLAR

SHIP - 4 - THE - UNEMPLOYED - NOT - MANY - YES

CHOICES - MINE - CHEF - APPRENTICE

OVER - $8,000 - 6 MONTHS - TUES - THURS

8 HRS - EACH - WHY - ARE - THEY - FLOODING

MY - EMAILS - WITH - WHAT - POOR - PEOPLE

COLLEGE - STUDENTS - NEED - 2 - DO - AND

CULINARY - ARTS - MANAGEMENT - 2 YRS IS

OVER - $7,000

LAB - OVER - $18,000

BETTER - OFF - IN - PARIS - LE - CORDON BLEU

AS - CHEF - BECAUSE - LEARNING - 2 - JUST BE

APPRENTICE - OF - A - CHEF - BUT - IN - PARIS

LEARNING - 2 B - CHEF - I’M - LEARNING FRENCH

LIVING - ALSO - IN - PARIS - FRANCE - BRITTANY

CHATEAU - INSTEAD - SMALL - PLANE - 2 PARIS

WEEKDAYS - BUT - LEARNING - HOW - 2 - CUT

HAIR - OF - KIDS - MYSELF - BEAUTY - PERMS

COLOR - MAKE OVERS - HOW - 2 - DO - 4 - NOT

IN - MIAMI - LIKE - ALEXANDRA OLSEN - AND

HER - SISTER - WHO - I - WILL - MEET - SEOUL

SCALP - TREATMENT - NOT - AVAILABLE - HERE

IN - MIAMI - THEY - JUST - DO - BLOW - JOBS AND

BEND - 2 - SHOW - ASS - AND - BREASTS - VERY

IMMORAL - I’M - LEARNING - IN - PARIS - ALSO

SKIN - CARE - HOW - 2 - CREATE - MY - OWN

SOUTH - KOREA’s - NUMBUXIN - EXCELLENCE

AND - KANE - REAL - GOD - IS - GOOD - ITEMS

YES STYLE - COMMISSION - IS - REAL - GOOD

PARIS - FRANCE - TEACHING - ME - 2 - MAKE

SKIN CARE - PERFUME - BACK - 2 - BALLET AS

I - LEARN - SPLITS - IN - AIR - FIGURE SKATING

GYMNASTICS - WILL - B - JOINING - LOTS - OF

PARIS - AND - TOKYO - WORLD - SPORTS

GETTING - BLOND - BLUE - EYES - MALE 2

B - PERSONAL - TRAINER - BUT - I’VE - DECIDED

2 - STUDY - IN - PARIS - FRANCE - THEN BECOME

ARCHITECT - SHARED - WITH - AMAZON - MALE

DRIVER - PRIME - THAT - FRANCE - HAS - WORLD

LONGEST - STANDING - BUILDING - THEREFORE

ARCHITECTURE - SHOULD - B - LEARNT - THERE

PARIS - OVER - 2,000 - YEARS - OLD - FINALLY

GIVEN - BACK - BY - ENGLAND - 2 - FRANCE FR

SO - STUDYING - FRENCH - AND - KOREAN YES

NO - LONGER - DOING - MIAMI - DADE - COLLEGE

2 YRS - JUST - 6 MONTHS - SOMETHING - 2 - DO

THEN - OXFORD - UNIVERSITY - ENGLAND FOR

PHOTOGRAPHY - JOURNALISM - LITERATURE 2

HOW - 2 - RUN - CORPORATIONS

BUSINESS - ADMINISTRATION

IN - PARIS - HOW - 2 - RUN - HOTELS AND CAFES

BEST - SCHOOLS - FOR - THAT - COUTURE - YES

FASHION - DESIGN - DRESSMAKING

ONLINE - UNIVERSITY - OF - FASHION

FASHION - ART - DRAWING - PEOPLE - CLOTHES

PATTERN - MAKING - SEWING - AND - MORE TOO

$19.99 - ONLY - UNLIKE - WEIRDO - MIAMI - DADE

COLLEGE - LARGEST - COLLEGE - IN - THE - USA

SO - DECIDED - 2 APTS - HERE

SOMA - AT - BRICKELL - 2 PETS

SW 13 ST

IN - FRONT - OF - LARGE - PUBLIX - SELF SERVICE

BEAUTIFUL - KITCHEN

OVER - $3,000 - 2 BED - 2 BATH

MIDTOWN - MIAMI

NEAR - TARGET - WANT - AMAZON - GROCERY - TO

REPLACE - THAT - NEAR - CITI FURNITURE - 2ND APT

2 PETS - MY - CAT - WILL - BE - HERE - INSTEAD

28 FLOORS - 347 UNITS

SWIMMING - POOLS - GREAT - 24/7 - GYM - YES

HONG KONG - MALES - MY - HOUSEHOLD STAFF

SINCE - KIDS - FRESH - NOODLES - FR SCRATCH

PEKING - DUCK - MARTIAL - ARTS - WEAPONS SO

GOOD - IN - 6′2 FT - TALL - THIN - BABES - THEY

WILL - B - MY - DRIVERS - GETTING - RV - YES

RECREATIONAL - VEHICLE - 2 - BRING - 3 PETS

2 - TEA CUP - ENGLISH  YORKSHIRE - TERRIERS

OVER - $6,000 - EACH - ONE - SMALLER - THAN

THE - OTHER - BRINGING - US - 2 - MOST - YES

BEAUTIFUL - TREES - NORTH - CAROLINA

BLUERIDGE - MOUNTAINS - ESTATE - STABLES

40 DEGREES - SNOW - ONLY - UNLIKE - MIAMI

20 DEGREES - YEARLY - DEADLY - HURRICANES

JULY - 2 - NOVEMBER

NO - MORE - THAT - 2

ASHEVILLE - 2016 - HAPPIEST - CITY - SAFEST 4

WOMEN - ONE - OF - TOP 10 - BEST - CITIES - TO

LIVE - IN - ROOTS - OF - PEOPLE - JOLLY ENGLAND

WHITES - OVER - 80% - BLKS - 11% - HISPANICS 2%

ASIANS - INDIANS - NOT - MUCH

ASHEVILLE - MEANS - CHEROKEES - PLAYING - IN

THE - WIND - SOMETHING - LIKE - THAT

MORE - THAN - 300 FOODS - SELECTION - THAN

RALEIGH - NC - AND - 50 MIN - BY - CAR - IS THE

CITY - FORGOT - NAME - LOVE VILLE - ONLY -

HORSES - NO - CARS - 2 - TRAVEL - TEXAS -

HATS - ASHEVILLE - VANDERBILT - CASTLE -

MEMBERSHIP - OVER - $200 - YEARLY - 2 - SEE

CASTLE - MY - HORSE - 10% - DISCOUNT - THE

HOTELS - SHOPS - MORE - THAT - THEIR - MAIN

ACTIVITY - CAN’T - WAIT - CAN’T - WAIT - THUS

SHOPIFY - $10,000 - EACH - MONTH - YES WILL

START - TOMORROW - JESUS - IS - LORD - YES

BUT - STARTING - TENT - SLICED - 2ND - FINGER

TODAY - STARTING - TENT - AGAIN - GLASS YES

LANDED - ON - MY - PALM - THUS - SAFER - FOR

ME - 2 - LEAVE - TENT - THERE - SLICED - THIGH

FIRST - DAY - POLICE - ARRIVED - AT - WHERE I

WAS - BECAUSE - BLK - GIRLS - BUMS - REFUSED

2 - LEAVE - 4 - CLEANING - SARG - ASKED - ME XO

WHAT - POLICE - SAID - WHEN - I - ALWAYS - LEAVE

EARLY - ARMY - ARMY - WILL - NEVER - B - FRONT

LINES - WHAT - A - STUPID - ABOUT - LAND - AS 2

US - ARMY - WHO - GUARDS - DEFENDS - LANDS

MARINES - FRONT - LINES - IN - BATTLE - WHO - I

WILL - ALWAYS - B - PARIS - WILL - HEAL - ME YES

PARIS - LOVES - FEMALES - GIRLS - BABIES - YOU

CAN’T - B - FIRED - 4 - WORK - MY - RELATIVES

MORE - THAN - 1,000 - YEARS - THERE - QUITE

BEAUTIFUL - MALES - SO - PARIS - WILL - HEAL

HEAL - ME - AGAIN - LIKE - WHEN - I - LIVED THERE

IN - CHATEAU - FACING - EIFFEL - TOWER - PARIS

WILL - HEAL - HEAL - HEAL - ME - LIKE - TOKYO JP

ONLY - DOCTORS - AND - NURSES - DRIVE DAILY

TOTALLY - COOL - AS - MILITARY - SURGEON - ME

JOIN - THEM - DRIVING - DAILY - IN - PARIS FRANCE

MY - DECISION - PARIS - PARIS - PARIS - ALSO  4 ME

JESUS - IS - LORD

HAPPY - THANKSGIVING - TUMBLR - MY FOLLOWERS

[snugglebuddyhan]

Had a conversation with a few of my mutuals on my main twitter account about abusive parents and it really hit me how normalized this type of aggression towards kids is and how a majority of parents show no remorse later on down the road for the damages they caused by claiming it was what they had to do to make sure we were raised right. Abuse of any kind is NOT a catalyst or solution and it’s sickening that people try to find justification behind it

It’s not just about them showing no signs of remorse later on. It’s them, at that point in time truly believing beating us, putting their hands on us or verbally scaring us is the ONLY form of discipline in existence. You’ve failed not only as a parent, but as a person if installing fear in a kids heart through years of abuse is what you think parenting is. All the abuse does is create resentment and physiological/physical damage that may or may not be something that’s able to be undone and a relationship later on down the road that will without fail fall to shambles

What’s amazing is the amount of parents that get upset and have the audacity to play the victim when their kids move out as soon as they turn of age and never speak to them again. Not sure what’s not clicking, but WHY would they expect the child they abused on a daily basis to want to stick around if the choice was theirs? Just bc hands were never laid on them now that they are older or the verbal abuse has stopped doesn’t mean the damage hasn’t already been done. In order for me to work on my trauma and move past it I need to create an environment that’s not toxic or a reminder of what I’m trying to escape from and if cutting contact is what needs to be done for me to heal then so be it. Maybe if people kept their hands off their kids or didn’t talk to them sideways all the time they wouldn’t be sitting alone at home right now wondering if they’ll ever see them again or if they’ll end up dying alone

People really need to rethink their choices on becoming a parent if it’s not something they are sure they are mentally ready for using me as the perfect example. I have anger issues that definitely stems from my childhood and is definitely fueled by the current events in my life. I’ve taken my anger out on myself time after time vs on other people, although I’ve come close to hurting others a few times

When I get mad it’s like I disconnect with myself and reality and everything becomes a blur and all thoughts except raging out and destruction are blocked. It’s like a knee jerk reaction to want to instantly lash out, which is usually done to and on myself. It’s so immediate I don’t have time to think about the consequences of my actions nor do I care. I’ve repeatedly punched myself in the head so hard I saw white and went blank for a few seconds, once even heard what sounded like a crack, which should have been a warning for me to stop, but I haven’t and probably never will. Like I said, it’s a knee jerk reaction. No time to think

I’ve repeatedly punched my thighs with so much force they were bruised the next day and I had to wear sweats to keep people from asking questions. I’ve dug my nails into the skin on my arms until the skin ripped and I was bleeding. I’ve pulled my hair out, silently screamed until my chest felt like it was going to explode and I was fighting to catch my breath to keep from passing out. I’ve punched holes in walls and broke things precious to me. I caused permanent damage to my left wrist while in a fury one time. I went to hit the inside of the doorway with the side of my fist as I was walking out of it, but I missed and my wrist caught the edge of the doorway instead and to this day I can’t do much with my left hand before it locks itself in place and I can’t move it, which is also extremely painful and can take time to unlock

I am a self destructive person and despite trying to get better I’m still a work that will be in progress probably for the rest of my life. The anger inside me is dormant and is always waiting for a trigger and this aggression/hair trigger response will never go away, which is why I know being a parent isn’t something I’m cut out for

It’s not just my anger problems. I’m just not mentally stable enough in any form to raise another human being. I can’t make myself happy, so how am I supposed to make another person happy much less be concerned about their happiness? I don’t love myself. Never have and I never will. Day after day I neglect to take care of myself in ways more than one, bc of my depression, so how am I supposed to love and take care of another person? My anxiety is so bad I can’t even leave the house a majority of the time. Hell, even in my seclusion I have anxiety attacks that I struggle to get out of

I have acknowledged my problems and have accepted my reality as a person who should never have children. I don’t trust myself enough. What if I’m in a fit of rage and I hit my child or worse? I’ve almost knocked myself out with blows to the head. Imagine if I lashed out and used those same hands on a small child. What if my depression causes me to neglect them just like I do myself? What if my anxiety keeps me from being able to provide for them? There’s just so many what if’s. It definitely outweighs the good and is extremely concerning

I’ve made this point several times and people always tell me I’d understand their choice of parenting if I was a mother and honestly? That’s just their shitty way of trying to justify abusing their children. No amount of persuasion is going to convince me that type of behavior is okay and I don’t quite understand why people want me to abuse my kids so bad. I’ve also been told all the issues I have shouldn’t stop me from having kids, bc kids will be the turning point in my life and would probably change me for the better and I don’t believe that for a second. Anger, depression and anxiety are illnesses that not even medication can cure, so what in the hell is a child supposed to do? A kid is not some type of cure all. If anything I feel like it’d just be more on an already full plate

People just really need to take a closer look at themselves before having a child. All that abuse is stemming from something they haven't addressed within themselves. They need to take a good look at themselves first, bc their kids aren't the issue. They are

[musingmemories]

Mind numbing, the blasted subway system. Infinitely more so than the originals the tubes were modeled after throughout the world. Compared to Tokyo’s metro system and forced to deliriously solve the lines in Japanese while bleeding out from a bullet wound in her thigh and on her period that had actually been a complete cakewalk. At least that way she would’ve been home in time for supper. But fuuuuuuuck. The thought of a home cooked meal, her cozy bed— a shower— oh that had Lila so feral she was willing to strangle kittens for it. Yes. Kittens. Plural.

Instead, she’d been cursed to consume rat over the years. Sometimes she dreamt about it— no, not the rat— of sheets tangled from a war for overnight coverage, the smell of burnt coffee, gorging herself on flapjacks and bacon which she now feared would taste like rat, laughter the sweetest siren’s song, sets of arms strong and petite clinging tightly to her tiny frame.

Safety. Comfort. Home.

Dammit— no sense in getting sentimental, Lila… you’ll fall into that nasty pit of despair. Again. In the moments when Five wasn’t looking. When she could finally scream into a jar so ferociously it shattered the glass or she threw it against a wall. She’d become a bit of a collector specifically for this reason. But lately… home felt so distant it felt like a dream. An idea of it somewhere out there waiting for them. And Five’s reminding confirmation of ‘We will find them.’ a sort of motto or mantra said to one another when things felt too dark— hopeless, giving the other a the push why they were on this eternal ride through damnation surely meant for them to repent for their past sins.

Or to put a more positive spin on it: A Prolonged Timeline Tourism Session. Because maybe Five was right. Maybe a prolonged timeline tourism session could change a person. After all… Five had been the one to survive the apocalypse alone in the past. Had been able to successfully find his family every single time. So perhaps there was some wise to his madness in having survived alone all that time. Talking to himself, keeping himself going… if he was frustrating to her and everyone else that interacted with him, Lila wondered if he’d been his own worst enemy. Ironically, timelines they’d narrowly escaped from he’d almost been one of the worst.

Five versus Five.

Currently, a matchup of Five versus Lila, triumphant grin pulling across chapped lips when laughter spilled out. “Lose? Funny coming from the crowned loser if our past fights are anything to show for it. I’ve kept score.” Picking scissors, Lila was already on her high horse over the fact Five had actually agreed to whatever the hell popped into her mind at the time— wearing down Five a pastime in their Groundhog-not-Groundhog Day situation. That high horse was short-lived, Lila bucked off of it seeing scissors… and rock. “You little cheat. Isn’t it hilarious to think that if I’d had a gun on me I would’ve actually shot you right when you said shoot~? Good times~” They’d done this song and dance of being relentless and mortal enemies trapped in each other’s orbit since their Handler days. “Course I wouldn’t do it now… I’m not at that level of starving yet. And I’m comfortable sharing my secrets.” Partially, anyway. “Besides… you’re not the worst apocalypse partner to have.”

A tad bit too vulnerable, the walls climbed back up. “Does that count as a secret I’ve never told anyone~?” A faux pout, Lila knew the answer more than likely wouldn’t be acceptable, and lithe fingers drummed on bony knees thoughtfully. “When I was a kid, I cut my own bangs with scissors and they were so uneven I completely shaved my head because I was furious.” Choosing scissors seemed to have triggered the memory. “Would I do it again? Absolutely. The wig game nowadays? Phenomenal. I could pull it off better than you in a fake mustache— Greek serial killer.” One of her most amusing memories. And in positioning her hands, Lila was now picking rock.

                   ˜”*°•.        Again  and  again  would  they  board  the  cars.  Again  and  again  would  they  hope  to  find  their  timeline  above  the  subway  station.  Again  and  again  would  they  find  nothing  but  destruction .  Years   had  passed  by  -  could  he  do  it  again ?  Being  stuck ,  away  from  his  family,  without  a  promise  of  return .  At  least,  he  was  not  alone  now  -  for  as  many  downs  the  two  of  them  had  shared,  they  could  at  least  keep  each  other’s  sanity  intact .  Or  well ,  as  intact  as  visiting  hundreds  of  timelines  could  let  it  be .

It  was  a  small  smile  that  the  other’s  words  brought .  ❝ It’s  true . ❞  This  family  had  never  been  one  for  civil  conversations .  For  opening  up ,  discussing  on  whatever  issue  emerged .  He  knew  he  was  no  better  than  them  either  -  acting  on  his  own  or  tossing  commands …  but  well . ❝ Maybe  a  prolonged  timeline  tourism  session  can  change  a  person . ❞ 

Never  had  he  been  good  at  the  whole  emotion  thing .  Never  had  he  valued  feelings  or  heartfelt  discussions  -  his  life  abounded  with  nothing  but  a  constant  race .  A  race  to  save  his  family,  to  stop  the  one  Apocalypse,  the  second,  the  third .  He  wanted  to  reassure  her  that  it  was  going  to  be  fine .  To  tell  her  that  no  matter  how  futile  it  all  felt,  how  hopeless,  they  would  find  their  way  back .  He’d  spent  his  whole  life  stuck  in  a  dystopian  world,  after  all …  If  he’d  made  it  back  to  his  timeline,  then  so  could  they.

❝ We  will  find  them . ❞  Could  he  really  make  such   promise,  though ?  They’d  been  looking  for  their  family  for  years  -  no  progress  made,  no  nothing .  And  as  much  as  he  didn’t  want  to  admit  it ,  he  was  growing  desperate  too .  Eating  rats, sleeping  on  the  floor  or  the  subway’s  seats,  having  no  place  to  take  a  break .  And  yet,  this  was  not  something  that  Lila  needed  to  know  -  not  when  she  felt  the  same  exact  way .  ❝ I  know  it  looks  hopeless  but  it  can’t  have  simply  disappeared . ❞  Or  so  he  hoped .

Still,  it  was  curiosity  that  crept  into  his  face  upon  the  other’s  suggestion .  ❝ Really  now ? ❞  But  did  they  have  a  better  thing  to  do ?  They’d  already  been  to  two  timelines  that  day  -  wrong  timelines - .  A  ten-minute  break   would  hurt  none .    ❝ Fine.  Rock, Paper,  Scissors  it  is.  But  prepare  yourself  to  lose . ❞  Provocation  filled  his  voice  -  an  attempt  to  distract  her,  maybe  trigger  the  competitiveness  in  her .  And  so ,  fist  was  brought  above his  hand .  ❝ Rock ,  paper ,  scissors,  shoot . ❞  Rock  being his  choice . 

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 20 - Gunplay]

Pairing: Gangster!Jungkook x f.Reader

Kinks: Dom!Jungkook, sub!Reader, arranged marriage, gunplay, oral to a gun, big cock, praise, body worship, nippleplay, strength kink, size kink, tattoos & piercings, thigh riding, spanking, dirty talk, sexy possessiveness, multiple orgasms (f. & m.receiving), creampies, squirting, overstimulation, rough & passionate sex in front a window, she rides him, the trope of “this is the first night where the sex feels real and not like a marital duty”

Wordcount: 10.4k

a/n: i feel...feelings. too many of them. most of carnal nature. some of deeply emotional nature. this story did too many things to me, holy fuck i need air. besties, Kinktober hits different because we can be totally unhinged together and i am loving the adventure ❤

You fucked up. You are aware that you did. Five men are dead, slaughtered because you trusted the wrong person. Seven barely escaped death and the rest were either hurt or pissed. 

Taehyung’s with you, cleaning the cut on your cheek a broken bottle left. You think someone threw it at you, but you blacked out before you could see who did it. 

“Hurts”, you groan. 

“I know, sorry. It must be done”, Taehyung answers you, replacing the blood soaked cotton swap with a new one. Soaked in disinfectant, he presses it against your wound, eliciting another hiss of discomfort from you.

“So what are we gonna tell him?” Jimin asks the question the rest of the group was too afraid to ask. 

“The truth, what else?” Namjoon says dryly, fingers busy with stopping the bleeding on his arm by pressing a cloth to it.

“Yeah and risk her getting shot? Nah thanks”, Seokjin says, shaking his head. 

“People died”, Namjoon hisses, eyes lowered in anger, “Yoongi’s still out and guess shit about how Hoseok’s surgery is going.” 

“She didn’t shoot them did she?”

“She could have very well pulled the fucking trigger.”

You avoid looking at Namjoon, knowing very well that he would probably kill you with just a look if he could. You understand him. You’re angry at yourself as well. You weren’t careful enough and let the details of the meeting meet the wrong people, ending in the cops busting you in the middle of the deal. 

“Where is she?!” Jungkook’s loud voice cuts through the air like thunder.

Your stomach twists in fear. He’s back.

“Oh fuck”, Seokjin gasps, looking at the opened door and regretting not having closed it. 

“Where is she? Where’s my fucking wife?” Jungkook screams outside.

You exchange a panicky look with the others. 

"Is she in there?" Jungkook spits, voice sounding as if he is just by the door.

“Sir wait, they aren’t done-“, one of your guards stumbles into the room and falls forcefully. 

“What the hell?” Jimin exclaims, staring at the groaning guard.

Seconds later the reason for his fall appears in the door frame. 

Jungkook. Black hair messy, eyes dangerously dark in anger and tattooed knuckles bruised from the punch he just threw.

“Don't fucking talk to me like that, cunt”, he spits at the guard.

“I-I'm sorry Sir”, the guard stutters, holding his aching cheek.

“Tzt.”

Jungkook rolls his shoulders and lifts his head, eyes running over the room and landing on you.

They lower in anger, head tilting to the side in this distinct almost hunter like manner Jungkook always gets when he is in the mood for carnage.

“You wanna fucking tell me what happened?” he hisses, voice calm but you know better than to trust it. You know what Jungkook does with traitors and you are currently the main suspect for the leak.

“I didn’t know Yeonseok would leak that shit”, you say. 

“Don't give me that bullshit, you knew exactly what kinda fuck he is”, Jungkook spits. 

“I didn’t. Listen. I really didn’t. If I had, I’d have shot him.”

“Bullshit. You’re working for them. Ugly fucking undercover pig”, Jungkook growls, reaching for the side. Hidden behind his suit jacket and strapped into a belt, his gun is waiting to be used.

“Hey Kook”, Jimin’s on his feet and in front of Jungkook instantly, “I believe her. She didn’t know Yeonseok was the snitch. We thought Lee would leak the shit, but he got shot. Nobody suspected Yeonseok, especially not ___.”

"I don't believe this", Jungkook growls, taking a step closer with his dark eyes never leaving your face. Jimin stops him, strong hand on Jungkook’s heaving up and down chest and muscles tensing under the turtleneck.

“Think”, he insists, “why would she work for them? The fucking pigs killed her brother, the last thing she'd do is kiss their fucking boots.”

Jungkook fights Jimin, lips curled back in an angry huff of air.

“Let alone betray you. She’s your wife. She chose you, didn’t she?” Jimin adds, finally managing to change Jungkook’s gaze from you to him. 

His hand slips from his gun, he stops fighting Jimin. Now standing still.

“She didn’t choose shit”, Jungkook spits and pushes himself away from Jimin. He walks to the door in heavy steps, “clean this fucking shit up once you’re done”, he hisses. 

“Where are you going?” Seokjin asks. 

Jungkook looks over his shoulder.

“Making sure Yoongi’s got someone with him if he decides to actually bite the dust”, he spits, eyes landing on you for one last deadly look, “fucking shitshow”, he whispers and turns to leave. 

The front door slams closed seconds later. 

“Well fuck”, you press out, sinking in on yourself, “thanks man.”

“Don’t mention it”, Jimin answers you, currently helping the guard back up on his feet.

The air is tense in the room. You all know very well that this wasn’t over yet. 

The penthouse is empty when Jungkook returns. Safe for the guards out front, everyone else left. 

You didn’t. Obviously, because you live here even if the downstairs was poisoned by work. Upstairs maybe a little bit of home was present. Stuff like memoirs or sweet pictures of you and your husband weren’t present, but at least the lingering stench of blood, drugs and metal wasn’t present upstairs. 

You don’t know if you loved your husband. You are pretty sure he doesn’t love you. Your marriage is a business contract between two wealthy crime families, making sure their money gets secured. You accepted, Jungkook accepted and that was the story of your love. Sex was okay because he's obsessed with perfection and that goes for sex too. Passion or tenderness obviously wasn’t present during those moments, because Jungkook sees sex as much of a task as his other things. Torture, fighting, murder, bringing in money with little loss. Those things have to be calculated and follow a certain pattern to be perfect in his eyes. The same goes for sex. Intimacy wasn’t present either, safe for the moments where he walked around naked in front of you or told you to show off a set of lingerie for him, but that was only because you were married and he saw those acts as duty. Romance was present once. You remember it clearly. It was a Sunday. The 16th of July two years ago. The sun was warm and the organisation was quiet for once. Jungkook took you out for ice cream that day and told you that he thought the dress you wore was pretty. You saw him smile that day and thought that he almost looked innocent when he smiled. You never saw him smile again since that day.

You don’t know if you loved Jungkook and you know he didn’t love you. But that was okay because you didn’t expect him to.

You were sleeping when Jungkook came home. You wake when he has already showered. He is sitting by the foot end of your bed, legs spread and arms resting on his thighs so he can make his lower arms tangle between them. He is shirtless, giving view to his tattooed torso. His lower body is covered by a towel, his hair is tied into a messy bun. He is overlooking the city. The Empire, which one day will be his' with you as the ruling Queen by his side. That is if he doesn’t decide to murder you tonight.

“Husband?” you try quietly, hoping for a moment that he won’t hear you. 

He inhales loudly, straightening his back.

“Go back to sleep”, he says coldly, eyes never once breaking away from the city. It looks so small from your bedroom window, but this is only an illusion made by just how high up you are.

You often walk in on him jerking off right by the windows and with his hand in a punishing rhythm. Jungkook fucking loves standing by the windows and getting off to how small and tiny everything looks. The king standing on his throne and looking down at his suspects. He fucking cums like crazy to that thought.

“How is Yoongi?” you ask him.

“Alive for now.”

“That's such a relief to hear”, you say honestly.

“Mhm.”

“And the others? How did the surgeries go?”

“Good. They’ll all live.”

“That’s amazing, I’m so relieved right now.”

“Mhm.”

You sit up to crawl to him. You snake your arms around him, making him tense up and lift his head proudly. You aren’t wearing much more than panties and a bra. Not very comfortable, but you thought that maybe if you dressed yourself in Jungkook’s favourite set tonight, he won’t kill you the instant he laid eyes on you. It seems to be working, given how you are still breathing. 

The little clothing results in your naked stomach coming into contact with his naked back. His skin feels cold in comparison to yours. 

“Tae and Jin captured Yeonseok. He tried to take one of the boats to flee to Jeju. Did you hear?” you tell him.

“Yes.”

“What will happen to him now?”

“Why? So you can save him? Well, too fucking late. I already skinned the bastard. Cut off his cock too, made him eat it cause it’s what lying fucking pigs deserve”, he says almost nonchalantly. 

You feel your stomach twist in disgust. You mask the gag you wanted to do by inhaling deeply, dancing your hands to Jungkook’s sculpted pecs. You don’t really want to touch him right now, this is solely to fight for your life.

“That's good to hear”, you whisper, kissing his shoulder, “I would have done far worse to him.”

“Tzt yeah sure”, Jungkook scoffs, moving away from you.

You study his face as best as you can see it from this position. His brows are creasing, eyes as dark as the night and lips turned downwards into a frown. You rest your chin on his shoulder, hands coming to rest on his pecs. His heart is racing like crazy in his chest, letting you know that despite his calm exterior he was in utter distress inside. You rub slow circles on his skin, making him react by flexing his pecs because his nipples are sensitive and the touch is affecting him.

“I'm loyal to you, husband”, you say, trailing your kisses to his neck, “please believe me.”

Jungkook rolls his head to the side, exposing his neck to your lips. You kiss his skin. He tastes like hints of his cologne. Smells like it too. 

He keeps on staring out at the city, lips pursed in anger and eyes cold. 

“And I’m loyal to the organisation. It’s all that matters to me”, you say, taking his pierced ear between your teeth to nibble on it softly.

Jungkook closes his eyes, relaxing his brows. You don’t see it happening as you are too busy licking and kissing his piercings. You know that he’s into that shit.

“I'd suffocate you”, he rasps.

You try not to falter in your kisses, hoping that he can’t feel your heart speeding up in fear. 

“I'd want you struggling and fighting for life. I'd do it with my bare hands to feel your last breath leave you.”

Only now do you notice the gun tangling from his fingers. Did he bring this here to shoot you? Are you currently kissing your murderer's neck? Is that why his heart is racing? Because deep down he is nervous to kill his wife, but he knows that he has to?

“That's how I'd kill you if you ever betrayed me”, he says, eyes flitting to the distorted version of your bodies in the window’s reflection. Him towering over the city and you holding him close. The image could be beautiful if the air wasn’t so tense and you cared so very little for each other. He locks eyes with you. 

You gulp, barely controlling your breathing. This is it. This is the moment you’re looking into death's eyes.

“How's your cheek?” Jungkook however asks, flustering you.

“It's… it won’t scar”, you say, stumbling back when Jungkook turns. 

He pulls you back by grabbing you by your chin. He moves your head from left to right, dark eyes glued to the now bandaged cut on your cheek. 

“Did you see who did that to you?” he asks. 

“No, it happened way too fast.”

“Mhm”, Jungkook brushes his thumb over the band aid, “thank fuck it missed your eye.”

“Uh..yes…I guess…”

One must know that stuff like genuine worry for each other, affection and concern were nonexistent in your marriage. It is important to know so one can understand why you were so entirely flabbergasted by your husband’s concern right now. Jungkook never cares. Did seeing Yoongi almost die tonight affect him so much that he is becoming affectionate now? Or is this his way of saying goodbye before he finally kills you? 

Jungkook pulls you closer, making you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut in fear. His strong hand lands on the back of your head.

His kisses your bandaged cheek.

Your breath trembles as it leaves you.

Your eyes open quickly, locking with his’. They are still dark, racing between yours and looking almost hypnotising from the close proximity you and him find yourselves in.

Jungkook moves in and kisses your lips as he keeps on staring at you, fingers tightening more and more on the back of your head.

You sigh shakily, squeezing your eyes shut because you can’t bear to look into his eyes when his lips claim yours so angrily. His teeth bite your lower lip, his tongue licks over it, his lips suck harshly. You reach for him for support, nails scratching down his arm as softly as possible.

The kiss breaks, strings of saliva keep you connected but they break just seconds later, now covering your skin. You peel your eyes open, meeting his unfaltering gaze. Your hands slip from him again.

He can see the uncertainty and confusion on your face, but he won’t call you out on it.

“You and your loyalty are mine, don’t forget that”, he rasps.

“I won’t”, you whisper, “and I never did”, you add just in case it wasn’t clear to him yet.

Jungkook slips his hand from your head and turns back to the city. He is playing with his gun mindlessly, eyes racing over the millions and millions of lights down below. You are sitting, daring not to move let alone breathe. The air shouldn’t be so tense anymore, but it is. Jungkook cared for your cheek, kissed you and told you his version of an I Love You. You don’t know what is happening. This isn’t your husband.

You let your eyes flit to the reflection of your bodies, coming to the scary revelation that Jungkook wasn’t staring at the city, but at you. He twists the gun in his fingers, making the safety click once.

You gulp. Now you understand. This was his goodbye. His last attempt to be affectionate before he shoots you.

“I’m sorry”, you whisper shakily, eyes burning in tears.

Jungkook acknowledges you with a cock of his right brow, outlining the inside of his cheek with his tongue. He lowers his head, eyes locking on the gun. His thumb runs over the cold metal, his jaw clenches.

“Stand up”, he finally says.

You follow with shaking knees, biting down on your tongue in order not to start sobbing.

Jungkook grips your wrist and tugs you right in front of him. You try not to squeak, let alone breathe too quickly.

He lets go of your wrist once he is happy with your position, placing both his hands on your waist. The coldness of the gun feels unbearable on your skin, digging into your flesh and leaving deep shivers behind.

He dances his hands up your torso. His thumbs are on your tummy, tracing the pearl netting which is spanning itself over your upper stomach.

You don’t dare to look down, eyes glued to the mirror behind your bed. There was another mirror right above your bed because Jungkook is obsessed with watching himself when you fuck. He also fucking loves it that you have to stare at yourself when he’s got you on your back, folded in half and with his huge cock drilling into your puffy pussy.

Jungkook leans in, connecting his lips with your tummy.

You can’t stop yourself from gasping or flinching for that matter. You bite down on your lower lip to stop more noises from slipping out of you, shifting your gaze even further up the wall just so you can’t accidentally look down at him.

His tongue darts out just to lick a thick stripe up your stomach until the position naturally breaks the contact.

Your skin prickles where he licked it, the air of the room feels ice cold while your body is burning up. All of this isn’t your husband. All of this swerves so far out of the patterns he made up for sex and you don’t know what that means.

“You’re so fucking sexy”, he rasps, lifting his head and realising that you aren’t looking at all. He furrows his brows, clenching his jaw. Why aren’t you looking? You are supposed to look when he’s worshipping you.

“Get on your fucking knees”, he orders in a growl.

You follow instantly, folding your hands on your lap and looking at the ground. Jungkook tilts your head up with the gun under your chin, forcing you to lock eyes with him even if that was the last thing you currently want to do.

“Why are you avoiding eye contact?” he asks, pupils dilated in anger.

“I-I…I’m sorry”, you stutter, widening your eyes for good measures.

Jungkook studies your features and your body. You carry fear in your eyes, your thumbs fumble with each other secretly, your thighs are pressed together in nervousness. Jungkook looks at the gun under your chin and understands.

He pulls it away and with a press, releases the magazine. It falls into his palm. He twirls it between his fingers and shows it to you. 

Your eyes widen in shock.

It’s empty.

Jungkook presses the button to let you know the barrel was empty too.

Your eyes flit up to Jungkook’s face, racing restlessly in an attempt to make sense of all of this.

Jungkook slams the magazine back into the gun and takes your face between his fingers. He tugs you closer, leaning in to meet you in the middle.

“This isn’t your fucking punishment, get that outta your head”, he hisses.

“O-okay”, you stutter, feeling your heart skip a few beats from having him so close. His breath smells like minty toothpaste.

“You think I’m gonna shoot you? Like a coldblooded murderer?” he squeezes your cheeks, “I told you how I’d kill you, didn’t I? You think I’d not already have done it if I wanted you dead? That I’d let you sleep while I was taking a shower? No”, he moves closer, brushing his lips against yours to whispers darkly, “if I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead. Wife.”

“Oh”, you press out, shoulders sagging in relief and eyes spilling tears. He forgave you. Jungkook forgave you. You aren’t going to die tonight. The gun is solely a prop in some sick play of power and sex.

Jungkook wipes your tears away with a rough thumb, taking your cheeks back between his fingers afterwards.

“Don’t cry. I’m not gonna hurt you. You know that I don’t do that”, he whispers softly.

"I know", you get out, sniffling like crazy to get rid of the desire to sob.

"Good", he says and with one push to your lips feeds you his thumb.

You suck on it instantly, having done so a thousand times before. That shit is familiar to you. Having to suck off Jungkook’s fingers is a routine to you.

You were so ready to do it for minutes, but Jungkook already pulls out after nothing but five eager sucks, leaving you to chase him with a trembling sigh.

He straightens up and pulls the gun back into your vision. He holds it tightly, positioning it right between his thighs in a way so that the barrel would face the ceiling.

“Suck it like you’d suck my cock”, he orders.

You hesitate, looking up at him with confused eyes.

“Did I stutter? Suck my fucking gun”, he hisses, placing his hand at the back of your head to push you closer.

You eye the cold gun, gulping nervously. You know that it was empty and safe, but the thought still scares you. Sucking his cock is easy because his shape is familiar to your lips and tongue. But the gun is new. He never asked you to do that before. Of course he didn’t, because it wasn’t part of the pattern on normal nights.

Jungkook tightens his grip on your head, giving you an impatient push. There is no going back. You scoot closer, placing your hands over his’ and lowering your lips to the gun. You kiss the tip first like you would do his cock, feeling his fingers twitch on the back of your head. You can’t see it but Jungkook is staring down at you without ever blinking, frowning but with his chest heaving up and down quickly.

You close your lips around the barrel and sink down slowly.

Jungkook exhales loudly and opens his thighs just slightly, acting as if you finally took in his cock. Even his fingers tighten on your head.

The gun tastes weird. Metal and grease. You are pretty sure that you shouldn’t have those things in your mouth, but you won’t say anything. You slip off of it for a catch of breath, getting pushed back down instantly.

“Don’t stop”, he orders in a rasp, moving your head up and down slowly, “fucking suck it like you mean it.”

You moan for him, squeezing his hand. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your breathing is ragged. You don’t suck on it like you would his cock, merely letting the barrel glide over your tongue. It hits the back of your throat with each movement, tickling out your gag reflex more and more.

“There we go, so fucking good”, Jungkook rasps above you, staring down at you with blown-out pupils. Your lips look so good wrapped around the black metal. They move so nicely as you fuck your face with it.

The barrel is a lot smaller than Jungkook’s cock. Both in length and in girth. It is an easy task to have it in your mouth, even if the square shape and hardness is something to get used to. Other than that however, the size in itself isn’t all that bad. Sometimes when you suck Jungkook’s cock, your jaw hurts afterwards because of his size, so the gun is a welcome change. Even if the taste needs some getting used to.

It hits the back of your throat and finally triggers your gag reflex. You gag loudly, slipping off of it to prevent the worst case scenario. You wheeze and gasp for air, swallowing heavily.

“You sound so sweet”, Jungkook lulls, caressing the back of your head, “lick it for me.”

You place your tongue at the base of the gun, brushing against his fingers accidentally. Jungkook takes a deep breath in reaction, moving his hips in a slow squirm. Just once and then he is in control again.

You moan as you finally drag your tongue up the barrel, licking it as if you were licking the big vein on the underside of his cock. It feels so different than when you do it to him. Hard metal, unmoving unlike his vein which is always pulsating and throbbing when you lick it. You miss those sensations, craving them against the tip of your tongue.

“There we go, that’s it”, Jungkook whispers, voice shaky in arousal, “lick the tip, go on.”

You follow, swirling your tongue over the tip and moaning oh so hungrily.

“That’s it, fuck”, Jungkook tenses his thighs, relaxing them in a tremble, “such a good girl, fuck.”

Whimpering, you press the flat of the tongue right against the tip, grinding it back and forth quickly. Jungkook fucking loves when you do that to his tip, reacting with a sharp intake of breath now that he watches you do it to the gun.

“Fucking amazing, that’s fucking amazing”, he praises, voice raspy and just slightly lulled, “feels so fucking good, doesn’t it?”

You mewl, nodding your head. And you mean it. Maybe it’s Jungkook’s praise and the utter pleasure in his voice, but licking his gun is starting to genuinely feel fucking good. You dig the tip of your tongue into the bullet hole, eliciting a deep growl from Jungkook.

“That’s it”, he whispers breathily, hand slipping from the back of your head to cup your cheek, “fuck, that’s it, doll.”

The nickname sends heat to your pussy. Honestly moaning, you take the gun back inside, letting it sink into your mouth until you can feel it at the back of your throat. It is a lot more difficult to get it inside than Jungkook’s cock. Not because of its size but because of its unmoving character. Jungkook’s cock bends, no matter how hard and swollen you’ve gotten him, there is still a slight bend to it, which makes it easier to get it inside. But the gun doesn’t bend, forcing you to bend yourself instead to get it inside.

You keen, dropping tears onto your cheeks. A needy shake courses through  you, your left hand slips from his hand just to grab his thigh instead. His skin is hot as fire, his muscles are so hard under your palm. You squeeze desperately, whimpering around the gun. Somehow holding his strong thigh is helping you stay grounded. Maybe it even soothes you.

“Such a good girl”, Jungkook praises, slipping his hand back to your head. He grabs a bundle of your hair and twists softly, “Is that tasty? Mhm? Do you like how my gun tastes?”

You break away from it just to gaze up at him, almost forgetting what you wanted to say to him in the process because of his cock. You look at it for just a second too long. Completely hard and swollen, it’s standing against his toned stomach, having escaped the towel. It is even leaking, tip looking so wet and sticky. Holy fuck. Your pussy clenches around nothing. Holy fuck, he’s so hard.

“I…” you clear your throat, breaking your eyes away from his cock to look into his eyes, “…I love it”, you whisper shakily.

Jungkook drags his thumb over your cheek to wipe the tears away, eyes lowering in arousal.

“Yeah? You love it? More than my cock?”

You gulp.

“Tell me.”

“N-no your c-cock’s better”, you stutter, hoping that this is what he wanted to hear.

Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle, lips curling into a cocky smirk.

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say”, he rasps, squeezing your chin softly, “take off my towel.”

You scramble to your knees and reach for the knot. Jungkook rests back on his hands, having the drool covered gun resting beside him for now. He watches you with a quickly moving chest as you undo the knot and pull the towel open. Not that a lot of new stuff gets exposed because of it, give how his cock’s already been freed before that. Only his neatly trimmed pubes and heavy balls see the new light of the day, hypnotising you.

You may not love Jungkook and, hell, Jungkook may not love you, but the sexual attraction you both feel for each other was sometimes unbearable. Jungkook’s a sexy, attractive man, even if he sometimes scares you. He never hurt you in your years together, so you have no idea why you are scared of him, but you are. You are scared and so goddamn, achingly attracted to his body.

Especially tonight, because Jungkook is disregarding every single pattern you established over the years and that shit turns you on like nothing else.

“There we go, good girl”, Jungkook praises, straightening back up. He cups your cheek and makes you look up at him.

You swallow heavily, hands falling to his thighs just so you can hold something of him.

He smiles.

Jungkook fucking smiles.

For the second time ever since you’ve became his’, Jungkook is showing you his smile.

And it’s flustering you so much that your breath actually hitches in your throat.

“You’re such a pretty girl”, he whispers, tracing your lips.

You exhale shakily, feeling your head pound from those overwhelming feelings in your chest. Jungkook is smiling. He called you pretty. Jungkook called you pretty and is smiling. Holy fuck.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, studying your frown and glassy eyes.

“Nothing”, you barely get the word out.

“Mhm”, he hums, smile slowly fading into a relaxed expression. He lets go of your cheek just so he can dance his hand down to your throat to hold it as gently as possible, “I want you to take off your bra.”

You reach behind yourself without hesitation. Jungkook keeps your eyes on him not through force but through sheer attraction. Your heart’s racing like crazy.

The clasp opens easily. You tug the straps from your shoulders and let the piece of clothing fall onto your lap.

He looks down at your newly exposed chest, slipping his hand from your throat for it.

“Hm”, he hums, nodding his head with a frown on his face. It’s the same frown he gets when he likes food.

Jungkook places his hands over your tits, making you arch your back just to chase him. His palm is slightly callused from fighting, but his touch is tender. He gathers them and squeezes strongly. The sensation crawls down your body and makes your pussy so goddamn wet in your panties.

“Pretty”, he rasps, moving his fingers over your tits until he can pinch your nipples, tugging at them until you whimper. He smirks lazily, massaging them as his eyes flit back to your face just to take in how your lips part in a gasp. “you’re the prettiest, baby.”

“Kook”, you whimper, hands sliding to his inner thighs and eyes burning in new tears. It feels so good to be called baby by him. He only did that during your ice cream date and ever since that day, all you ached for was for another repetition of the nickname.

Jungkook dries your tears with the back of his hand, eyes softening slightly.

“Why do you keep crying, mhm?” he asks.

“I, I don’t know”, you stutter, sniffling like crazy.

"Do you not want me to play with you, mhm?" 

"Please don’t stop", you breathe, meaning it honestly.

“Mhm”, he hums and gives your cheek a soft pinch, “stand up for me”, he orders.

You struggle so much. He’s got you so weak that you don’t want to get up. So he helps you, placing his strong hands on your waist to tug you to your feet. He stands up as well once you’re safely on your feet, holding your waist and stepping closer. Like this, he is towering over you, making you lift your head just so you can keep looking into his eyes. He doesn’t feel scary right now. Just strong and like he’d protect you from the world. The feeling is so foreign to you that you want to scream, but you can’t bring yourself to produce any other sound than soft whimpers and shaky intakes of air.

“Now you wanna keep looking at me, don’t you?” he speaks softly, eyes racing between yours.

You nod your head.

“Touch me, baby”, Jungkook whispers.

You place your hands on his chest, eliciting a shaky exhale from him.

He steps closer, hands sliding down to your hips to pull you into him. His head tilts down, nose brushing against yours.

“There we go”, he breathes, “do you like how I feel?”

“Yes”, you sigh, meaning it honestly.

“Baby”, Jungkook whispers, cupping your cheeks to pull you into a deep kiss. His head is tilted to the side, his shoulders are lifted to his ears, his lips move slowly yet desperately against yours.

You stare at him in shock. He’s got his eyes closed. Jungkook’s got his fucking eyes closed as he kisses you. The kiss is real to him. He’s actually feeling it.

“Fuck”, you press out in a shaky sigh, hooking your arms behind his neck to pull him close. Your eyes fall closed and your tongue finally chases his’ in a slow yet needy rhythm.

Jungkook moans, slipping his left hand from your cheek just so he can snake his arm around your waist and press you against his chest. Naked tits against naked pecs. Hot skin against hot skin. Cock against your stomach and hearts beating quickly in both your chests. All of this so far away from the patterns, that they aren’t even on the same map anymore. And you fucking love it, dragging your nails over his undercut until you touch his bun. With sloppy tugs, you open it. His hair falls down in messy waves, getting gathered and twisted by you.

Jungkook keens almost needily, lifting you easily. He isn’t just working out to be ready for whatever fight his life throws at him, but also to lift you whenever you want him to. He never did it before, but all he’s thinking about is lifting you when you’re both naked and lost in a kiss. Your weight makes the muscles in his arms shift and tense, his abs flex right against your pussy. Jungkook loves how you whimper into the kiss and how small you seem to make yourself just to fit into his arms easier.

Your legs snake around his waist, squeezing it tightly. You hate that you’re still wearing your panties. All you want to feel is his skin against your pussy. You’re so fucking into him right now. You need him like crazy.

The truth was that Jungkook is so goddamn vulnerable tonight. He is shaken to the core from everything that happened today, aching for affection he is very well aware you probably have to work very hard for to gather for him. He’s aware that you don’t love him, even if he can’t imagine his life without you. And today he had to. He had to imagine how life would be without you, because he almost lost you to a misunderstanding. He was so angry at you at first and so goddamn hurt. Not you, he thought, not his fucking wife. His heart broke when he heard that you were the one leaking the details, because that meant he had to kill you. Then it ached in confusion when he had to decide whether or not he could still trust you, all while he had to be there for Yoongi. The man, he considers as his own fucking brother. He came home, exhausted from crying over Yoongi way too much and skinning the real traitor, expecting you to have fled, only to see you sleeping in your shared bed and if Jungkook hadn’t been so dirty from murdering Yeonseok, he’d have climbed right into bed with you just to hug you against his chest. Your refusal to flee, even if that meant that he could potentially kill you, was all the proof he needed to know that your loyalty for him never faltered.

And now he’s a mess. Going from anger, heartbreak, confusion, worry and relief left him so goddamn needy for affection. He’d never tell you, because he possibly couldn’t share his feelings with you, but he fucking aches for you like nothing else. Even if it’s just pretend from your side.

He walks to the big windows, pressing you right against them even if that makes you gasp from the cold. The kiss still doesn’t break however, only deepening as your limbs seem to pull him closer and closer. Jungkook presses himself against you, moaning right with you as this makes your pussy press against his cock. He rocks his hips slowly, forcing his cock to glide between his stomach and your clothed pussy.

“Fuck”, he croaks, lips faltering in the kiss.

You chase him, moaning his name.

“I need you”, he gets out, cockhead grinding against your clothed clit and making your fingers scratch down his undercut.

“Need you too”, you answer him.

There is a chaise lounge to your right. Jungkook takes the necessary step and sits down on it, right on its edge. Your body hits his lap, hips chasing his muscular thigh in a needy roll.

He lets the kiss break for the sake of looking at you. His strong hands are on your thighs, your knees are on each side of his hips. His eyes are half-lidded and heavy in arousal.

“Lift your hips”, he orders and you follow.

Jungkook hooks his fingers in your panties and twists the fabric. In one rough tug, he’s got them ripped from your body, leaving behind burning skin and a racing heart. 

“Those were your favourites”, you whisper.

“Doesn’t matter”, he dismisses you, throwing the ruined panties on the ground. He grips your hips and pulls them back onto his lap. He rocks them back and forth slowly, making your wet pussy grind right against his thigh.

Your breath trembles, fingers twisting in his long hair. His skin is so soft and hot, his muscles are so defined.

“You’re already dripping”, he says, voice deep in arousal. He wanted to get you wet on his cock and now has to live with the knowledge that you’re already wet for him. He’s so fucking into you, it’s insane.

“Yeah”, you sigh, chasing his thigh desperately.

“Fuck baby”, he presses out, gripping you by the back of your neck, “get on my fucking cock. Now”, he growls, pupils dilated to the point where his eyes appear black.

You follow without hesitation, lifting your soaked pussy from his thigh just to shimmy up his lap and align yourself with his cock. You grind your hole against his tip twice and then Jungkook squeezes your hips in warning, eyes lowering dangerously.

You let yourself drop.

“Oh”, you croak, head falling against his shoulder and body trembling. He’s so fucking big. It’s stretching you out so much.

“There we go. Take that cock”, he rasps, rubbing the small of your back soothingly.

Inch by inch he’s gliding into you, making you feel fuller and fuller. He barely manages to bottom out, eliciting the shakiest moan from you. He growls against your skin, hands slipping to your ass to squeeze it angrily, “that’s it. Your pussy’s so fucking good. Move.”

You circle your hips slowly, whimpering into him and trying to close your legs even if that is impossible in the position and only ends with you squeezing his hips. You feel like bursting.

“Jun-Jungkook”, you get out.

“Yes, baby?” he asks.

“You’re, you’re so big.”

“I know”, he tilts your hips differently to make the breach a little easier, “do you like it, mhm?”

“Yes”, you mewl, meaning it honestly. He may be a lot and he may make you feel like you’re being ripped in half, but that shit feels so good. It feels amazing on normal days and feels like paradise tonight. You don’t want to stop, you want to keep rutting against him until your pussy is finally stretched enough and stops burning.

“Yeah? You do?” Jungkook forces your head to lift with his hand on your neck. He moves his hips, basking in the widening of your eyes and the clenching of your wet pussy.

“K-Kook”, you squeak, brows furrowing in pleasure.

“There we go, relax. I know I’m big, but you’re my girl, aren’t you?”

You nod your head, gasping for air when his cock fills you up completely again. And he leaves you again, making you chase his girth instantly.

“Yeah you are”, Jungkook slips his thumb to your throat, keeping it resting there without applying pressure, “and my girl’s made for my cock, isn’t she?”

You nod your head, feeling new arousal seep out of you. Jungkook never called you his girl before. It feels so good now that he does.

“Tell me baby”, he orders.

“I’m made for your cock”, you whisper, pussy throbbing around his cock.

“And why is that?” he stresses, feeling you tremble on his lap and loving the shit out of it.

“Because I’m your girl”, you croak, falling around his neck a moment later to kiss him.

Jungkook gasps, hand slipping from your throat to bury itself in your hair at the back of your head. He moans, tensing his thighs desperately when you finally begin to actually move on his cock. Quick movements up and down and skilled circles whenever he’s balls deep inside you. It sounds wet and nasty, filling both of you with the desire to keep going and fucking going.

Tongues tangle, hands grope desperately, hips rut against each other. Breathing is hard when you’re kissing so much and the sex feels so fucking good. Hot and addicting. So without any kind of patterns and rules. So honest and fucking real. There is no order in your movements, just honest desperation to get off on each other as quickly and as intensely as possible. And you don’t want this to stop. Please don’t ever let this stop.

Jungkook doesn’t want it to stop either. Breaking patterns and ignoring rules. The thought normally gives him the fucking ick. But he doesn’t care right now. He doesn’t want patterns or rules, he wants you. All of you. The unfiltered, honest you. The sex tonight is his apology. He hopes you can see that it is. His apology for ever doubting you, his apology for yelling at you in front of the others and his apology for being so goddamn needy for you. He hopes you can feel how sorry he is and how goddamn into it he is.

Jungkook breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. His shaky breath intermingles with your trembling one, his thumbs brush over your temples, his eyes are closed.

And because his eyes are closed, he doesn’t see that you have yours closed as well. Maybe if he did, he wouldn’t feel so fucking sorry for being needy. Because you are fucking needy for him too. Being married is only fun when you’re desired, otherwise it leaves one with a constant ache in one’s chest. And Jungkook’s spilling over in desire tonight, soaking you with it just as much. It feels so good to fuck honestly and like you actually want to fuck.

“I’m so fucking into this”, Jungkook rasps, voice trembling because he bottoms out right this moment, feeling your pussy clench in reaction.

“Me too”, you answer him shakily, lifting yourself just to drop back down on him.

“Fuck”, he croaks and pulls you back into a deep kiss. You squeak as you weren’t ready for it, fingers squeezing his shoulders tightly and hips trembling on his lap. He is kissing you so desperately, moaning so much. It affects you so much. Jungkook isn’t vocal in bed. The penthouse is never truly empty. Guards, one of the others, some of the other goons. The penthouse is never truly empty and Jungkook decided for himself that being quiet was part of sex. Nobody needs to know how into it he is, especially not all the idiots downstairs. So to have him moan and growl and gasp so freely tonight, feels like sex in itself.

Jungkook breaks the kiss, moving just far away enough that he can look at your face. He dances his thumb over your cheek, letting his left hand slide to your hip just so he can squeeze it.

“Is this real for you?” he asks, eyes droopy and barely staying open.

You look at them and how they are filled with so much pleasure, pain and hopefulness. You nod your head honestly.

“Yeah, it’s real”, you whisper.

“Fuck”, Jungkook presses out, voice trembling and eyes squeezing shut.

He wraps his arm around you, pressing your face into the crook of his neck with his hand on the back of your head. His lips are on your shoulder, his nose is inhaling desperately. His legs broaden their stance so he can finally meet your movements. He thrusts into you deep and strong, forcing your body to tremble involuntarily.

“Kook”, you whimper, tensing up in surprise.

“I’ve got you, I’ve fucking got you”, he whispers against your skin, “fucking hold onto me, baby.”

You drag your nails up his back and neck, burying your fingers in his hair as deeply as possible. Like this your chests are almost melting with each other and his cock is so deep inside you, stomach grinding against your clit.

“That’s it”, he rasps, “that’s fucking it. Your husband’s got it. Gonna fuck you so slow, so fucking deep. Fuck”, he moans, body twitching as pleasure shoots through him. His hips thrust into you so much rougher afterwards, making your toes curl from how good it feels, “I fucking got it, got you so good. So fucking good.”

He had his eyes on his city once, thinking to himself how pretty those lights look. But not anymore. His face buried in the crook of your shoulder and his eyes are squeezed shut so tightly that his brain is coming up with its own sparkles of light. You feel like heaven around him. Maybe he’s imagining it, but he could swear that you feel so much wetter than you do on other nights.

Jungkook always makes sure that you are wet. Because getting you wet gives him an ego boost. But tonight it feels so real. So honest. It’s covering his cock and is running down his balls. He’s never experienced that sensation before, cradling you in his strong arms because of it.

You are also twitching and writhing like you never did before. They feel so honest and intense, making his own body shudder in reaction.

“I’m really close”, you whimper against his neck.

“Fuck, really?”

“Yeah”, you say and sob into him loudly, “Jungkook, please don’t stop, I’m so close”, you wail.

“Fuck baby”, Jungkook hugs you tighter, hips faltering just once before they find their rhythm again. Slow and deep, making your wet walls convulse around him rhythmically and for your smaller body to tremble against his bigger, oh so much stronger, frame. “Stop crying”, he soothes you in shaky whispers, “I’ve got you baby, don’t cry.”

“I, I can’t. It, it feels so good”, you stutter and hiccup a loud sob, “it feels so good”, you wail loudly and convulse on top of him, “oh god it’s happening”, you squeak out, hugging him with an almost scared desperation.

“It’s okay. I’m right here. Your husband’s right here, baby. Let go”, he soothes you, throwing you over the edge so intensely that for a second, you feel like passing out.

“Ah-“, you get out and then your voice cuts off and you begin shaking without having any sort of control over it.

Jungkook holds you close, rocking into you carefully because you are so tight that all other movements are impossible. He swears he’s never gotten you that good before.

Jungkook always makes sure that both of you have at least one orgasm during sex, because that is what perfection means to him. Well, at least until now it’s what it meant. Jungkook realises that this right now is so much more perfect than any well-calculated orgasm ever was. This right here feels real and makes his eyes tear up and once your aggressive tensing stops, his hips can’t seem to want to stop. He is chasing your tight pussy, putting rough desperation into his movements. The kind which makes his huge thighs slap against your ass each time he’s deep inside you and the kind which shakes you on top of him.

“Please”, you squeak out, voice so much higher than it normally is, “w-what are you doing?” you wail, “please oh god!”

Jungkook growls, pinning you against him and forcing your fleeing hips to take the fuck that way.

“Take me, I want you to take me”, he spits, feeling his heart pound in his brain.

“It’s too much”, you wail all while pulling him closer, “please, please, please.”

“Just say the word and I’ll stop”, he grunts.

You shake your head vigorously in denial, sobbing into his shoulder and soiling his skin with your tears. Why would you want to say it? Why would you want to stop this when for the first time ever, Jungkook fucks you with honesty? Why would you want to stop the kind of sensations he never gave you before?

“I knew it. I fucking knew it”, Jungkook spits and pulls your hips into him just to land a harsh spank on your ass. You scream his name, scratching his back bloody as you try to grasp him for support. 

Jungkook growls, head pounding from the pain.

“Fucking do that again, I liked it”, he orders, connecting his big hand with your ass. The heavy rings he is wearing add another layer of burn to the spank, leaving you to convulse on his cock.

“Please”, you sob, scratching his back open. The black tiger on his right shoulder blade cries red tears from your scratches, his skin burns like crazy.

“You’re so fucking good”, he growls, forcing your back to arch with a push of his arm. Like this your ass is sticking out and your pussy stretches around his cock visibly. Jungkook can see her shift around his cock. All puffy and swollen and oh so wet. The view may be a little distorted from the weak window reflection, but it’s still enough for him.

"You're so sexy, your pussy's so fucking pretty. Fuck baby", he growls and growls again. He spanks you, soaking up the view of your jiggling ass like an addict. The broken sound you make in reaction fuels him, makes his cock twice as hard as it already is.

Jungkook spanks you again, eliciting the most desperate, almost painful, sob ever. The reason for it presents itself to him just seconds later as your pussy convulses in another orgasm.

You claw at him, biting into his shoulder because nothing helps. Your pussy is so sensitive, your ass hurts so much, your body is so weak in his arms. All of this paired with the fact that Jungkook feels the same as you, makes you cum like you never orgasmed before. You convulse and shake and tremble until it gets too much for your pussy and she squirts angrily.

“Fuck yes”, Jungkook growls, reaching between your legs to rub your clit instantly. He pulls you off his cock for the sole purpose of giving your pussy the unplugged chance to squirt everywhere. And you do, oh you do. The entire floor in front of the chaise lounge gets covered in you, his cock is getting soaked in it too now that it’s right under your pussy, aching to be back inside.

"That's it. Squirt for me. Holy fuck, keep squirting baby. Fuck, you’re mine. Fucking mine", Jungkook is chanting whatever comes into his scrambled brain, rubbing your clit like a madman.

You scream and wail, twitching so aggressively that your muscles ache. You don’t even know anymore if he is making you squirt or if you’re just straight up pissing yourself. You know however that you don’t want him to stop, clawing at him with all the desperation in the world.

Jungkook moans loudly, back burning from your nails and head pounding like crazy. He’s got you fucking squirting. Holy fuck, it’s so hot. Jungkook presses his fingers tighter to your clit, rubbing her quickly.

"O-oh" you squeak, fleeing him with an arch of your back. 

Jungkook however chases you, pinning you back against him, "don’t fight it. Let it happen", he growls, pinching your clit just to rub her between his fingers.

“Stop please”, you beg now that overstimulation is eating you alive, “holy fuck oh god”, you croak, writhing atop of him as his fingers press against your clit repeatedly.

“Don’t flee”, he orders, pinning your hips back against him, "I know you’re made for this. You're my fucking girl, you’re made for this", he chants and bucks his hips up, forcing his huge cock to slip back into you.

You squeak and grow completely still on top of him. The stretch goes oh so deep and hard. Holy fuck, your pussy feels like it's going to burst.

"Please", you beg.

Jungkook knows it’s because you are so goddamn tight and his cock is huge. He runs his hands down to your ass, soothing the burning skin with slow circles. 

“Take a breath for me”, he orders, making it easier for you by grabbing your ass and parting it, which results in your pussy getting all open for him as well.

You whimper into his neck, barely taking breaths.

“There we go. I don’t wanna hurt you, baby”, Jungkook soothes you.

“You’re so big”, you mewl.

“I know. I know I am, but you can take me. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yeah…” you keen, relaxing around him in a desperate shudder.

“Yeah you are. You’re my good girl and you’re gonna take my big cock like you’re made for it, aren’t you?”

“F-for how long?” you stutter, twisting his hair as your body once again tenses without you having any kind of control over it. You are so tight and Jungkook’s so big. It burns so addictively, almost feeling too much and yet not enough. You don’t know whether to flee or to chase him. But you do know that for however long you have to take him still, the result will be the same. You are changed. If Jungkook thinks he can go back to his calculated patterns after tonight, he is mistaken. You never ever want to have other sex with him again. Just raw, honest, rough fucking.

“Not for long anymore. I’m really fucking close”, he answers you, picking up in his movements.

He is giving you long, drawn-out strokes. The kind which makes his entire cock leave your pussy before stuffing her again within one rough second. And which make his balls slap against your ass from the sheer force. Your skin is so sensitive from the spanking that getting his heavy balls against your ass feels like addicting paradise.

“Gonna cum so good baby. Gonna cum so fucking good”, Jungkook growls against you.

“Oh god”, you whimper, hugging him tightly, “are you gonna cum inside me?”

“Yes baby. Gonna stuff you.”

“Kook”, you sob, convulsing around him in desperation, “please stuff me, please.”

“I will, gonna fill you up till you’re dripping. Hear me? Want you dripping and leaking ‘cause of me.”

His hips falter, he squeezes your hips.

“Fuck”, he spits, “it’s…difficult…”

You understand him. When he made you cum like crazy, you couldn’t move either. It must be so difficult for him to keep moving his hips. You lift your head just so you can see how he reacts when you take over for him.

You may be entirely spend and tired, but making him cum is filling you with a spurt of energy. You slam your hips down on him, lifting them quickly afterwards just to begin your ruthless bouncing up and down his huge cock.

Jungkook widens his eyes, gasping for air. He scrunches his entire face up in pleasure, head rolling back and mouth falling open.

He moans loudly, voice sounding way more high-pitched than you ever heard him sound.

His very obvious enjoyment, motivates you to speed up. You add little movements back and forth to your bounces, biting down on your tongue solely because your own thighs want to give up on you. His cock feels so good inside you.

“Baby”, Jungkook keens, falling back on the chaise lounge. His head tangles over the edge just enough that his hair is hanging over the edge in messy strands. He throws his own arm over his eyes, moaning so loudly that you can hear it echo in the penthouse.

“Jungkook”, you mewl, slamming your hands on his chest for support. Like this you can arch your back and therefore force his cock to rub right against your walls.

Jungkook lets out a sob, almost making you falter in your movements. Your widened eyes are glued to his face in shock, your pussy is clenching like crazy in arousal. Jungkook drags both his hands over his face and buries them in his own hair. Like this his arms are tensing, sweat is running down his skin and soaking his hair.

“I’m cumming”, he croaks out and sobs.

“Do it, fill me up. Mark me as yours”, you growl, slamming down on him.

“Aaah!” Jungkook screams and arches his back. He gets stuck in that position as he finally breaks, chasing you with squirms while producing the most high-pitched and desperate squeaks ever.

“That’s it. Fuck. I’m yours Kook, fucking yours.”

“Oh god”, Jungkook arches his back even more, cock releasing another wave of cum inside you, “don’t stop please don’t stop, it feels good”, he begs, thighs trembling like crazy and stomach tensing so much that he fears he’ll develop a new set of never-seen-before-abs.

You fuck him and fuck him and fuck him and Jungkook keeps on shaking in his high as his cock is pumping you full of endless cum.

“Shit”, you croak, eyes rolling back and body trembling out of control now that you realised what was actually happening, “baby”, you croak, crumbling around him a third and last time, prolonging his orgasm to fiery levels of intensity.

“I can’t stop! It, it doesn’t stop”, he wails, feeling it run out of you by now. Did he seriously never cum before? What the hell is happening to him? What are you doing to him? Jungkook is crying and shaking and cumming and he has no control over it.

“Me neither”, you sob, collapsing with him as your body gives up on you, "fuck baby, oh baby."

"I fucking love this, holy shit", Jungkook growls, meeting your sloopy movements with equally as sloppy movements.

Now you are rutting against each other like tired, yet needy animals. Arms holding each other close and heads pounding like crazy. The sloppy grinding is enough to force your endless highs to die down gradually. Slowly, but at least they are dying down. Truly, you don’t think you could have stopped on your own if your bodies didn’t actually give up on you.

The room is silent, safe for your heavy breathing and the occasional sound when a droplet of your juices is dripping onto the ground. His cock is still inside you. Hard as a rock and getting squeezed by your tight walls. In theory none of those nice juices should escape you, but with the amount of cum he pumped into you, losing a few droplets is unavoidable.

Your head is resting on his chest right where his collarbone blends into his shoulder. You can hear the heavy pounding of his heart even from here. It mixes with the sound of your own rushing blood.

You don’t quite know if you actually fell asleep or not. The minutes after tonight’s fuck are a blur in your mind. Maybe you fell asleep, it would explain why you started drooling on Jungkook.

You slurp quietly, forcing your heavy eyes to open.

Jungkook’s chest heaves up and down slowly, his heartbeat calmed down. You are shivering like crazy, feeling so goddamn cold all of a sudden. Even his cock feels different, sitting inside you all limp and soft.

Okay you definitely fell asleep. 

Groaning softly you lift yourself to your elbows.

Jungkook is very obviously sleeping. Mouth open widely and eyes closed. He looks so funny like that, making you giggle. Something you never did before, but tonight changed you. You can’t deny it. You feel fuzzy in his presence. Fuzzy and warm and maybe a little giddy.

You lift yourself even more, shimmying your hips to make his cock slip out.

Jungkook jerks awake, gripping your hips strongly to prevent it from happening.

“Don’t”, he croaks, voice heavy in sleep.

“Oh. I-“, you freeze up in the position, “I didn’t think you’d wake up.”

“I didn’t sleep”, Jungkook says, with his voice contorted in exhaustion now that he is forcing himself to sit up.

You snort, “yeah sure.”

“Does it matter?”

You shake your head, eyes racing between his’. Jungkook’s eyes do the same, hands running up and down your ass. He opens his mouth to talk only to chicken out and close it again.

You place your hands on the sides of his neck.

Jungkook exhales shakily because of it. He inhales and opens his mouth again.

“What”, he begins, having to clear his terribly dry throat, “what did this mean to you?”

You swallow down the heavy lump in your throat. Jungkook gulps as well, eyes widening in both nervousness and hopefulness.

“What did it mean to you?” you ask him, wanting to stall time.

“Don’t avoid my question”, he says in a shaky voice.

You lower your eyes and take a deep breath. When you lift your gaze seconds later, Jungkook’s eyes have filled with tears of unbearable nervousness.

“It meant everything…baby”, you say, gnawing on your lower lip in nervousness.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut and pulls you close, hiding his face in the crook of your neck just so you can’t see his stupid tears roll down his cheeks. You aren’t calling him husband anymore.

“I feel the same”, he presses out, cradling you oh so strongly.

“Good”, you whisper, holding him against you.

“It’s you and I, yeah?”

“Yeah, you and I”, you promise him.

“Fuck, baby”, he exhales, standing up with you even if his legs are wobbly.

You hug him tightly, sighing his name. Maybe being his wife isn’t that bad. Maybe you actually do love him and maybe he actually loves you too. Maybe it is way too soon to make such decisions and maybe the magic will stop come tomorrow. But at least tonight you are sure that you love him and Jungkook knows that he loves you too.

He places you atop your bed, climbing on top of you.

“Wait, we’re dirty”, you gasp, “shouldn’t we shower first?”

Jungkook cups your face, “why? Just to get dirty again?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what that means”, Jungkook breathes and finally pulls you into a kiss.

[absolutelyfizzing]

I just wanted you home.

TFATWS era!

Bucky x reader fluff!

Description - Bucky and Sam need a place to stay for the night, Bucky reluctantly makes a call to you. Sam is surprised at the different person that bucky is around you and he soon realizes why he didn’t want to call you right away.

Warnings - very fluffy? Not good writing probably, the timeline may be a bit wack? Little bit of angst but a happy ending

Word count - about 1500 (I’m sorry!)

MASTERLIST

Bucky ran a metal hand through his hair, wincing as he moved his ribs, which he suspected to be bruised. His face was scratched up and there was a gash on his side that was a little concerning. Despite this, he was more worried about Sam, though Buck would never admit it. Sam looked like he had taken one too many hits and he needed someone to patch him up. Bucky debated in his head if there was a way around it but decided it was inevitable.

“I know a place we can go for the night, you need to get patched up.”

Sam looked like he was going to protest but when he moved to sit up straighter, he only let out a groan.

“Aw, has Freaky Magoo gone all soft on me?” He winced out.

Bucky gave him a sharp glare but didn’t jab back. Instead he got out his phone and found your phone number, hesitating before he pressed call.

Sam could see Bucky on the phone but couldn’t hear from his spot on the ground. He was perplexed by the super soldier’s body language. Bucky had a wide smile and his eyes were brighter as he leaned casually against a wall with his hand in his pocket. Oh sam couldn’t wait to make fun of him later.

Bucky hung up and walked to Sam, “Come on, I got us a place to stay but we have to walk there. It’s only a few miles.” Bucky helped Sam up and they began their travel to your place.

The trek was long and when they arrived Bucky took a deep breath, wincing as his ribs complained, and knocked on your door. He could hear you rustling around as Sam finally spoke up after an almost silent journey.

“Who is this supposed to be again?”

You opened the door, looking slightly frazzled and you made eye contact with Bucky. He smirked as he looked at you.

“A friendly face”

You grinned and pulled the door open wider, getting on the other side of Sam to help him in. You led them both to a couch in your living room where Sam promptly collapsed.

“I’m Y/N. I’m a friend of Bucky’s. You must be Sam, I’ve heard all about you. Give me a minute and I’ll grab some stuff to fix you up with.” you smiled warmly. You brushed your hand against Bucky’s as you walked past him to grab your medical kit from the bathroom.

Sam looked at Bucky funnily.

“She’s heard all about me, huh?” Sam smirked while quirking an eyebrow.

Buck rolled his eyes, “All bad things.”

You chuckled as you came back into the room with a box in hand. “He’s lying, I heard all about your heroics. And if Steve trusted you then that’s enough proof for me.” You kneeled down and began to wet a cloth as you looked over Sam’s injuries.

He raised his eyebrows, “You knew Steve?”

“Oh yeah, he’s the one who introduced me to Bucky. He used to come by the coffee shop I worked at and he would walk me home on my late shifts. He was always kind to me.” There was a soft smile on your face as you spoke of Steve and there was a pang in your chest as you thought about how you missed him and how he had watched out for you in the last 5 years. “He though I might be good for Buck but I could never get him to stick around long enough to convince him to take a break.” You sounded sad to Sam and he looked over to the man.

Bucky was standing over by your front door, a steely look on his face as he did his signature stare out the windows. He seemed protective, like he was worried someone was gonna come through the door to hurt you.

You had begun work on the man on your couch, cleaning the blood off his wounds and giving him pain meds as you started to stitch him up. It took the better part of an hour and Bucky didn’t move the entire time but you just continued work. When you were done you smiled up at Sam who thanked you quietly and asked if he could get any water.

Your eyes widened, “Of course! I’m so sorry I forgot to ask.” As you stood up to get a glass for the man on your couch you looked over at Bucky. “Can I get you anything, James?” He looked at you when you said his name.

“A water would be great. Thank you, doll” he smiled.

You grinned and traveled over to the sink, getting out the things to make a couple plates of food as well for yourself and the two men in your home. You came and dropped off their water before heading back in. They both said quiet thank you’s and Bucky made his way to sit on the couch with Sam. Sam just stared at Bucky.

“Okay now you’re the one who has the staring problem. What is it?” Bucky grumbled.

“Who is she? To you?” Sam asked. His tone seemed surprisingly gentle to Bucky.

“I already told you, a friend.”

“Alright if you don’t wanna tell me that’s fine, I’ll figure it out later.” Sam smirked as he sipped his water and Bucky rolled his eyes before doing the same.

You came back into the room with plates of sandwiches and chips for the three of you. You handed Sam his and then put yours and Bucky’s down.

“I can see you sitting funny, where are you hurt?” You squinted at Bucky.

“I’m fine, doll.” He smiled.

“We both know that’s bullshit so either you show me now or I make you.” Your eyes were teasing as you talked. Buck rolled his eyes but there was a smirk trying to come through as he slowly stood up and lifted his shirt so he was showing you his bruised ribs and the cut on his side which was no longer bleeding but looked really awful. You tried to suppress the gasp in your chest and you grumbled as you got the stuff to dress his wounds. Bucky sat back down, glancing at Sam who was happily munching away on his lunch as Bucky glared. Bucky let you get to work, trying his hardest not to wince. He noticed that whenever he did, you flinched and there were tears in your eyes. He could feel his apology rising in his throat before it came out of him.

“I’m so sorry for bringing you into this.” He said barely above a whisper. You looked up at him and then back down at his wounds you were almost done dressing.

“You think that’s what I’m upset about? Bucky I’ve been waiting 6 months for you to come here. I’m not mad that you brought me into this, I’m mad that I didn’t get brought into this sooner.” You barely said it above a whisper but both of the men heard it. Sam gave Bucky a look before gently getting up.

“Excuse me, Y/N. Is there somewhere I could crash for a bit?”

Bucky looked at him thankfully as he was hoping to get a moment to talk to you alone.

“Of course!” Your chipper voice was back. “Right down that hallway, first door on the left.” You directed him to the guest room. You then looked back to Bucky’s wounds as Sam slowly walked down the hall. You swallowed dryly as you finished putting the bandage on Bucky before getting up. Buck grabbed your hand before you could get too far and pulled you down so you were straddling his thighs. The tears in your eyes threatened to fall and Bucky wrapped himself around you tightly. You sighed as you buried your face in his chest, trying to be mindful of his wounds, and some tears began to fall.

“I missed you, Buck.” You whispered and Bucky looked toward the ceiling to try and prevent the tears in his eyes from falling.

“I missed you too, sweet girl. I’m sorry I haven’t been calling.” He felt the guilt in his chest and he couldn’t tell if it was that that was constructing his breathing or his ribs. “I just didn’t wanna bring you into this mess.”

You pulled back to look into his eyes. “What mess?”

“My mess.”

“Bucky, you were gone for 5 years and I couldn’t think about anything but you. I don’t care how much of a mess you think you are, I just wanted you home.” You sighed at him sadly.

His flesh hand moved to try your face and you leaned into it. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I promise.” You buried your head in his chest again and you both fell asleep on the couch like that, despite it being the afternoon.

When Sam emerged from the guest room, feeling well rested after a quick crash, he found you both on the couch, wrapped up in each other. He tried to repress the smile that came to his face as he thought about the fact that he understood why Bucky had seemed reluctant to come here. He couldn’t fool Sam into thinking he was a hardcore soldier anymore. He snapped a quick photo for blackmail purposes later.

[unnerving-presence]

could you possible do the slashers like Micheal Jason and which ever others you feel and how they would react to having self harm scars? if your okay with it ofc!

of course! i have to admit i think about this concept sometimes since i’ll look at my scars and be like ‘dayum. why i do dat”

i decided to make this more fluffy and comforting and showing that you shouldn’t be ashamed of your scars so these boys will not be completely in character so forgive :))

also i only decided to write for jason and michael since i feel i could best write them more than any other character since i’m not really feeling great

CW: mentions of self harm, mentions of depression/mental health

༆༆༆༆༆༆༆༆༆༆༆

Michael Myers:

You sometimes forget that you even have scars, so eventually when one day you wear a short sleeved shirt or some shorts, Michael will be curious as to how you got them. He won’t go out of his way to demand answers, but if you happen to be sitting next to him while you both are watching tv, he’ll slowly turn his head towards you and rest a finger on the scarred area with a small tilt of the head. His own way of saying, “What happened?”

When he hears that it was because you would harm yourself, he immediately grips your arm or thigh, inspecting the area with a keen eye. You’re not harming yourself still, are you? You reassure him that you haven’t done in it a while, and his tense shoulders settle just a bit.

If you’re ashamed of your scars, Michael will try to comfort you by showing you his. He got his from killing of course, but he still views both of your scars as battle scars. Yours more figurative, and his more literal. He won’t tell you, but by showing you that he’s not ashamed of his scars, he wants you to know that you shouldn’t be ashamed of yours either. He’s trying, okay?

Michael won’t change completely as a person, but you can tell that after you tell him about your scars, he allows you to do a bit more than he usually would.

It’s actually pretty noticeable. You’ll notice that when you both are just chilling together he’ll have a firm hand on the scarred area, lightly caressing it with his thumb. Another way he shows his softer side is by letting you be more affectionate with him. Michael isn’t very comfortable with hugs and kisses unless he’s the one giving them, but he will allow you to be closer to him when you’re feeling down. Truth be told Michael gets a bit worried about you sometimes, and he wants you to know that he cares for you.

Jason Voorhees:

Honestly he doesn’t really notice them at first. Depending on how recent they are, he’ll just think they’re from you accidentally scraping your arm or leg on some thorn bushes. You’ll actually have to tell him what they’re really from for him to get it.

Jason can’t help but go into a bit of a panic when he hears that you’ve harmed yourself. Are you okay? Do they still hurt? He’s already grabbing what he can to help you. Please calm this man down he is so worried! Once you calm him down he’ll quickly give you a little check up just to make sure you don’t have any bleeding or infected cuts.

Jason will make sure you’re as happy as possible when you’re with him. He knows that you’re an independent person and can take care of yourself, but he can’t help but feel like he could do better for you. He doesn’t want to be overbearing, but he also wants you to be happy. When he’s not going around killing teenagers that trespass into his home, he’ll be trying his absolute best to pamper you. He may not know how to cook, but he’s trying, so at least take a bite of.. whatever he’s made you.

Don’t be ashamed of your scars! Jason loves them! He won’t over do it to the point that it makes you uncomfortable with how much he does it, but if he sees you looking at your scars with a sad look on your face, he’ll try his best to comfort you. He’s not very familiar with being gentle all the time but he will try for you. His usual rough grip is replaced with gentle touches on your scars and he gently traces the area. He’ll look down at you as a way of asking for permission to move on. If you give him a smile or a nod, he will lay his mask on your arm, thigh, stomach, or wherever you have any scars, and will rest there for a moment, slowly closing his eyes.

He wasn’t exactly sure how to get his point across, but he hopes his actions tell you that your scars won’t make him view you any different. Jason knows how it feels to feel ashamed for how his body looks. He never wants you to feel that way, especially if you are someone he holds dear. Your scars do not make you any less of a human being and sure do not make you ugly. Jason loves you so much and he will do anything to let you know that your scars are nothing to be ashamed of.

[lokis-army-77]

Hurt

Jay (Okja) x reader (no gender specified)

Word Count: 2002

After a mishap leading to the reader hurting themselves, Jay helps to clean them up back at the motel. He is eerily quiet and practically fuming. When asked about it he says nothing but eventually, he snaps, almost admitting his hidden feelings for the reader.

Warning: Mentions of blood and injury, getting shot at, angst but fluffy ending

ASK: Jay- this might be cliché, but maybe the reader gets hurt during a mission and Jay is helping to patch them up. Not sure if this should be like a love confession thing or if they should already be in a relationship and Jay wants them to quit the team to keep from getting hurt. (This might be too close to the Percy fic you just wrote, but Jay is a hard guy to come up with ideas for lol)

Main Masterlist (taglist linked here)

I hissed and threw my head back as I felt the cotton pad, doused in alcohol, being patted over the long open cut on the side of my thigh. My hand came out and smacked at the dark mop of hair that belonged to the person cleaning my wound. 

“Ow, that hurts Jay. Stop.” I cried trying to move away from him but was not able to since I was sitting atop the small bathroom counter in my shitty motel room. 

“Be still.” He grumbled more focused on stopping the bleeding and cleaning the cut up than on the pain I was experiencing. His unoccupied hand held my leg to keep me from moving it too much. 

“Ah! Jay!” I gasped when the alcohol hitting my open flesh sent an intense sting through my leg and up my spine.  My hands held onto his shoulders tightly as I tried not to cry, I was never good at dealing with pain.

We had been on an ALF mission, helping to free around twenty dogs from some underground dog fighting arena in North Carolina, when, as we were hauling up the last of the dogs, three workers came rushing in with shotguns. Thankfully, no one in our group had been shot, but me being me, I was the one who ran into a broken part of a chain link fence during the frenzy of trying to get away from the bullets and sliced my leg open on the metal. 

We were miles away from any actual hospitals and Jay was having to make do with cleaning the wound himself instead until we could get me to an actual doctor sometime tomorrow. 

Jay had been eerily quiet from the time we sped away from the arena, to meeting the trucks which would take the dogs we saved to a better place, and up to now as he cleaned my leg. Give, he was usually quiet all the time, but this silence felt different, it wasn't a comfortable one, it was more of a palpable anger, which, if this were a cartoon, you would be able to see the steam leaving his ears and nose. 

“You're pushing down too hard. It hurts.” I tried to lift his hand from my leg. 

“Quit whining and suck it up.” He grabbed a new cotton pad and poured the rubbing alcohol onto it before continuing to clean up the blood.

“Why are you being such an asshole?” I cringed away from his hand, the fresh alcohol stinging made my leg feel as though it were on fire. 

Jay didn’t answer me. His fingers tightened on my leg as I kept trying to get his attention. 

“Jay?” I poked his shoulder. “Jay-” 

“What!” He looked up at me, eyes fuming and voice raised. In the tiny bathroom, it was almost like he was yelling. 

“Sorry.” I raised my hand up in defense. “I just- are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Well, you don’t seem fine considering I’m the one bleeding out here.” 

“I am.” 

“I don’t think you are.” I start to argue back with him.

“Stop.” He goes back to what he was doing. 

“No,” I grab hold of the hand with the cotton pad, stopping him.

“Let go.” He seethed out.

“I will when you tell me what’s the matter.” 

“Would you fucking stop? I said I was fine, why can't you believe me? Just shut up and let me clean your goddamn leg before it gets infected.” He snapped.

I knew Jay could have a temper, I’ve seen it more times over the past three years I have been in this affiliation than I would like to admit, but never ever has he directed that anger toward me. I shut my mouth and let him continue on without any more interruptions, but deep down I wanted to say something. Instead, I just bit my lip at the pain in my leg and told myself the tears that were starting to well up in my eyes were because of that and not because of the man who I considered to be my best friend and the secret love of my life had yelled at me. 

It didn’t take long though for the tears to start falling down my face. I wiped them away as soon as they fell, but that didn’t stop Jay from noticing. He looked up when I began to sniffle. 

His hand stopped its movement and he let go of my thigh with the other. I could barely see the frown he gave me through my watery eyesight. 

“Hey, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?” He asked, standing from his kneeling position. 

“Just hurts.” I tried to play it off, letting more tears fall.

His hands came up and held my face. The coolness of them clashed with my now heated face. He began to rub the tears away with his thumbs, quietly shushing me like you would an upset child. 

“I know you, you would have been crying from the start if it hurt that bad, now what’s the matter.” 

I shook my head, not wanting to answer him. Not wanting him to know that he was the one who was making me cry. 

“Please?” He looked at me sincerely. 

“Why should I tell you when you won't even tell me what’s wrong with you?” I sniffled out, turning my head to the side as though to not look at him directly. 

He let his hands drop from my face and he backed up to lean on the wall across from me. 

“Fine, do you really want to know?” His question was soft as he looked down at his hands. 

“Yes,” I whispered, again wiping my tears. 

“I’m upset. I’m upset because you got hurt under my watch. That never should have happened, even if your running into that fence was an accident. It could have been worse, you could have been shot.” He explained. 

“But I wasn’t.”

“But you could have been and then I never would have been able to forgive myself, I’m already having trouble forgiving myself for putting you in that situation, to begin with.” He stressed.

“Why me? Why are you only feeling guilty about me being there? Are the others and their lives not just as important?”

“They are, but not as important as you are. I-” He cut himself short, turning to leave the bathroom. 

I watched longingly after him, wondering what he was about to say. I looked down at my leg, the bleeding had stopped for now, but it still needed to be wrapped. Nevertheless, I carefully hopped down from the counter and hobbled out to find Jay. 

He was started on the singular bed in the room, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. I sat down beside him, leaning into his side. 

“Jay?” 

“Hum?” 

“Can you finish what you were about to say?” I made my voice as sweet as I could. 

“If I do, everything will change.” He lifted his head to peer over his hand at me.

“Please?” I place my hand on his leg. 

He took a deep shuddery breath before taking his head fully out of his hands and falling back into the bed, bouncing a bit at the force. 

“You’re more important to me because I love you.” 

I was stunned. Never in a million years had I expected those words to be spoken from his mouth. 

“I think I have loved you for a while now. Can’t really pinpoint when. But, I just get so anxious when you come on a mission, especially if it’s one that could be dangerous, and tonight broke me.” He turned his head in my direction. I looked at him through tear-filled eyes, but this time they weren’t tears of pain or sadness, they were of surprise and joy. 

“I want you to quit. Please, for my sake, quit coming on missions.” He began to plead. 

“Jay-” I was breathless. “Jay, you know I can’t do that. I love being a part of the ALF.”

“No, no, I don’t mean leave the ALF, just take a seat in a less life-threatening position.” 

I just nodded quietly, thinking over what he had said. Jay didn’t talk, he just laid there, letting me process. 

“You yelled at me,” I stated at last. 

“What?” He sat up.

“Earlier, why I was crying? It was because you yelled at me.”

“Oh. Oh, I am so so sorry.” He brought me into a bone-crushing hug. 

“It’s just you had never done that before and I can’t handle it when people I love are upset at me.” The confession of my love for him was subtle. 

“I’m sorry, I never meant to, I was still deep in thought about what had happened.” He paused then realization flooded his features as he pulled away from me slightly. “Wait did you just?”

I nodded, confirming his question, smiling. “Yeah, I did.”

He hugged me again, this time, cupping the back of my neck with his hand. When he pulled away he smiled at me. “Can I kiss you?” His question was sweet and his voice shook a little with nervousness. 

“Please,” I responded, knowing I had so desperately wanted him to kiss me for a long time. 

He grinned as he leaned in, tilting my head up to meet him. His lips were softer than I had imagined as they caressed my own. The force at which he brought us together was subtle, nothing too suggested he wanted to do more than just hold me in his arms and kiss me. 

I sighed happily into him, laughing a bit as the air he breathed from his nose tickled the skin of my upper lip. My hands slowly made their way to the back of his neck, tangling into his raven locks, pulling on them slightly. 

He pulled away just a tiny bit, but I was so enthralled in the kiss that I began to follow him with my lips, not wanting to be parted from him. He placed a finger over my lips, prompting me to open my eyes to look at him questioningly. 

“I truly am sorry for raising my voice at you.” he sighed, resting his forehead on mine. 

“It’s fine, just don’t do it again. You can make it up to me by bandaging my leg up.” 

He pulled away even further to glance down at my thigh furthest from him. “Yeah, I guess we need to do that.” He began to stand up, pulling me along with him. I giggled when he hoisted me up in his arms, taking me into the bathroom and setting me back down on the counter. 

While he wrapped my leg in gauze, I thought about what he had said about moving to a different department. Which, given some consideration, didn’t seem like such a bad idea. 

“Hey, Jay?”

“Yeah?” He continued to wrap my leg.

“I’ll make a compromise with you.” I paused, waiting on him to look at me. When he did, I started again. “I will continue to come on missions, but I will stay at base, work with K on the computers and all that tech stuff. I’m actually pretty good at it. And I get to come on the missions you one hundred percent know will not be a danger. I don’t think I can stand never going out in the field again.” 

I waited in silence as he stared at me, his eyes forming tiny slits as he thought. “Fine.” He agreed. 

“Really?” I asked excitedly. 

“Yes, but if I think anything, and I mean anything, feels like it will become a dangerous situation on an easy mission, you listen to me and get out of there.” 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I kissed him in rapid succession all over his face. 

He gently swatted me away, smiling all the while. “Knock it out and let me doctor your leg.” He laughed. 

Paul Taglist: @yutasgem @brookeworman @salty-thembo @m2051@flutterskies@letshangourselves @ghiacciosdiscordkitten @spacecluster@internetvampiregirlfriend @collardefrutilla@beenz-beenz@vampyricbites @greenxtea0 @truecobblepot @brokegothgirl@pierres-new-spectacles @edwardspumpkinpie @dedeinspire

[lovelybarnes]

reckless- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, platonic!sam wilson, platonic!natasha romanoff, platonic!steve rogers

warnings: mentions of injuries, descriptions of fighting, angry bucky, a horrible ending, i kind of really hate this

about: “the things i feel for her are unlike anything i’ve ever felt before.” for a sleepover!

i actually wrote another one with the same quote but i didn’t think it fit so i changed it (that one will be posted tomorrow or the day after so i can edit it)

you’re annoyingly reckless to a point where it gets dangerous.

he’s told you this a thousand times before but you don’t listen- aren’t listening at the moment.

he knows it’s ironic that he’s being reckless by not paying attention to what’s going on, too concentrated on you- even if you’ve told him countless times that you literally can’t die (to which he responds with a “you never know!” because, really do you?)- but he has a metal arm and sam, who’s been hovering around him like a vulture after noticing his lack of concentration.

before he can react to it, a slimy arm is promptly cut off by you, the blade you threw now back in your hands and stained green with the things’ blood. you scowl at it and shoot him a dirty look, “pay fucking attention!” you demand, shaking the weapon haphazardly to get the goo off. he can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth but rolls his eyes and obeys, knocking an ugly alien down and crushing its chest with his boot.

he can still hear your cocky remarks and giggles- yes, giggles, you giggle when you fight life threatening menaces- paired with the gross sounds of your knife impaling the aliens they’re fighting. it’s the only thing keeping him from practically babysitting you, a reassurance that you’re there, careless and impetuous, but alive and close.

suddenly, he can’t hear you, and he turns to what he quite possibly believes to be the most disgusting thing he’s seen in his life (and it’s been a long one, so far). you’re blue, covered in a slimy substance, and your face is so red, it’s beginning to look nearly purple with the cyan sheen over it. you screech abruptly, wiping at your face angrily and jumping at the thing that probably did that to you. he nearly feels pity for it. nearly, because, in your rage, you hadn’t even noticed the large gash along your shoulder. before he can go to you before you kill yourself, his metal arm feels like it’s being sucked, taking him with it, and he grunts. “what the fuck-” he manages, unsure of what he’s looking at, but trying to cut through the sticky arm attached to his own. you’re there in five seconds flat, still blue and still angry, which he notices makes the slicing through the appendage easier.

you seem to decide to stay with him after that, and he’s not sure if he’s offended because you don’t think he can take care of himself- which is ridiculous, since this only happened because he was taking care of you- or touched.

“god, i wish i had wanda’s powers. chaos magick works a lot faster than causing chaos,” you complain, trying to wipe away the blue sludge at the same time and wincing when it tugs at your injury. he is reminded of the shoulder wound he nearly got his arm ripped off for trying to warn you, and he stops your hand. “you’re bleeding, you should probably be a little more careful with this.” he motions to your arm, avoiding touching it.

you frown at him, “it’s fine, it’s just a little cut.” (it’s most certainly not a “little cut.”)

“y/n-”

you extend the hurt arm over him and flick your hands when you see an alien about to rip bucky’s head off, a grimace passing your face that he sees but you try to cover up anyways. “see? it hurts you, you need-”

“i just saved your life, would a hurt person be able to do that?” you cut him off, and he stares at you. noticing a green thing coming up behind you, he grabs your waist and moves you out of the way, shooting it with his gun and watching as it drops to the ground. “ow!” you protest, “you hurt my-” seeming to realize you’re about to prove him right, you shut up and roll your eyes. “you’re welcome,” bucky huffs, wiping away some of the blue stuff from your cheek.

your cheeks warm against his touch without your permission, and you turn away. bucky smirks at your reaction.

“shut up,” you grumble, extending your fingers and aiming at a group of the aliens ganging up on natasha. they freeze for the few seconds they’re under your control, and nat manages to take out two in the moment. the three left break out of the trance, turn to each other, and begin to fight. natasha makes eye contact with you in a form of thanks and starts to take the rest out. you hear a gun go off behind you and turn to see one of the things that sprayed you on the floor. bucky saved you again, great, it’s not like he’ll rub it in your face forever.

“you need to pay attention, what if i’m not here?” bucky scolds. “then never leave,” you flirt casually in response. with a few twirls of your finger, most of the aliens stop paying attention to your team and begin attacking their own teammates.

you don’t notice when one of the few unaffected beings picks up a discarded gun and shoots at you twice. bucky moves you away from a head shot, but one lands opposite to the bleeding slash on your shoulder, and the other hits your thigh.

“goddamnit, y/n, pay attention!” bucky growls, holding up your full weight when your adrenaline begins to run out and everything becomes blurry. “‘m fine,” you try to reassure, attempting to stand back on your wobbly legs. bucky doesn’t let you, shooting at as many aliens as he can with one gun. he turns to look at your state after he shoots most of them, allowing the others to take care of it while he tries to take care of you. his metal hand is touching the small device in his ear, telling the others the situation while his other arm holds you up. you might be delirious now, and your eyelids are becoming increasingly difficult to keep up. “hm, i’m not going to die, b’cky.” you tell him, noticing the increasing panic in his voice as he talks to steve. “stop saying that, how would you know if you haven’t died yet?”

his question is confusing for your foggy brain, so you decide to skip it, unknowingly making his worries worse. the blood running down your back isn’t stopping, and bucky stops for a second to lift you up completely, tucking his hand underneath your knees to carry you. at the tug at your thigh, you bite back a scream. bucky pretends not to notice; his hands are covered in a warm red. he’s trying his best to ignore it.

“don’t die,” bucky whispers again and again, making you frown, “how many times do i ‘ave to tell you i can’t die?”

“i’ll believe it when you don’t,” bucky mutters, and the blue sky turns to gray when he’s inside the quinjet. he sets you down on the medbay cot, looking lost as he calls out friday’s name. “yes, mister barnes?”

“y/n- uh-”

“do a scan on me and… and treat accordingly,” you interrupt. “scanning now,” friday obeys, and you turn to bucky. “by the time you figured it out i would have bled out.”

“that’s not funny, y/n,” bucky says seriously. you squeeze your eyes shut for a second, “calm down, i’ll be fine.” friday has enclosed you in some clear glass, red grids letting you know of your condition. “ooh, that’s bad,” you mumble, much to the dismay of your boyfriend. “what?” said boyfriend asks, and you wave him off as best you can- which means a pathetic bounce of your arm- and tell him to let friday do her thing. “we are not done here,” bucky instructs, but sits next to you and holds your hand. you can see his glossed eyes now, you wonder how you didn’t see them before.

“shouldn’t you be fighting?” you ask, a wave of exhaustion crashing over you. rest, your body begs. you’ll comply later. “they’re almost done, the chaos thing you did makes their job a lot easier.”

“‘s what i do,” you say breathily before falling asleep.

-

you’re still in the quinjet the next time you open your eyes, which lets you know it’s only been a few hours and you’re feeling better already. goddess healing, you think, looking around to see bucky’s hand still around yours. he looks worried, the hard lines usually softened by the sound of your voice as hard as you’ve ever seen them. you squeeze his fingers gently. “bucky,” you coo, “i’m not dying anymore.”

bucky turns to you immediately, squinting, “that’s not funny.” it’s like deja vu, but you’re not sure from where.

a vein on bucky’s neck throbs, and you’re aware that you’re pushing it, so you stop for a second, “i was just kidding, i-”

“no!-” bucky’s voice is near yelling, so he shuts his eyes for a moment, continuing in a lower voice, “you almost died, do you know how terrifying that is? you nearly bled out in my arms.” sam, nat and steve, who were waiting for you to wake up next to bucky, pause when he raises his voice. “bucky-” you start, softer now, trying to sit up. bucky stands, “listen to me!”

steve stands, beginning to put a hand on bucky’s shoulder, “buck-” he’s silenced with a cold look from bucky. sam gets to his feet too, telling steve and nat to give you both a minute. they do, after nat kisses your cheek like she always does when you get hurt. you’re sitting on the edge of the bed now, reaching for bucky, “bucky?”

“you don’t… you don’t know how much you scared me, y/n. you have to stop being so careless,” he says after a few seconds. you furrow your brows, “i’m not careless, i’m confident in my skills.”

“you are. you’re careless and reckless and hasty and i need you to not be,” he says harshly, you frown. “why? i’m fine and i’m always going to be-”

“you don’t- you don’t understand!-” bucky snaps. “then help me understand,” you implore. bucky closes his eyes tightly again, breathing in slowly. “the things... that i feel for you are unlike anything i have ever felt before, and i can’t- i can’t lose you, okay?”

“you’re not going to,” you assure, extending your arms towards him, noting the tiny ache in response. he walks over to you, letting you grab his jaw when he’s close, you run your fingers over his cheeks gently. “i’ll be more careful,” you promise. bucky nods, tucking his face into the dip of your neck. you run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, letting him squeeze your waist almost to reassure himself you’re actually there.

“hey,” you say quietly after a few moments, pressing tender kisses to bucky’s cheek, “sit down, i want to do something.” you stand, grabbing onto bucky’s arm when you stumble a little and promise him you’re fine and are taking it easy. you take out the first aid kit from one of the cabinets, setting it down next to bucky, opening it and taking out everything you need. you begin to clean his cuts, putting a pink hello kitty bandaid over one of his particularly bad ones. it’ll be gone within a day, but you can’t resist, and it makes him laugh.

you hum while you dab at a small scratch next to his eye, and he chuckles lowly, you look up at him, “what?”

“you’re still a little blue.”

[physicalturian]

[18+] Deranged Love - Hanma Shuji x F!Reader - Part 1

[Probably contains spoilers from the anime and the manga] [She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone is +18]

Words: 9403

Archive of our own

Warnings : Explicit! / Blood / Injuries / Guns / Bruises / Choking / Blood / Graphic depiction of violence / Killing / Murder / Crying / Trauma /

Summary : Wrong place, wrong guy. Wrong in so many fucking ways it only made the attraction more sick and twisted...Yet I wanted more of him and would end up doing anything for him, with him.

If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask, I'd rather be safe than sorry

- - -

Routine.

This would be how I would describe my way of life, a routine. I liked it like that, it was safe, comfortable and I was sure of what would happen. Far from me the idea of only doing the same things over and over again, I would sometimes go out with my friends or see a movie—doing things on a whim was not off the table. But I liked knowing what I was signing up for. Surprises, however, never were a thing I enjoyed—seeing my friends in my house when all I wanted was to relax after work was something dreadful and annoying to no end. I would pull through and be a good host, nonetheless, making sure everything was enjoyable, but I would be drained by the end of their stay.

Perhaps that need for reassurance, for a safety net, was the reason why I never truly took an artistic path or even considered any artistic career. It was too free, too unpredictable, too risky. Never could I have imagined myself doing such a thing; those who did were in my eyes the boldest and I admired them greatly for following their dream, but I was not bold, I preferred the solace of a job I knew would always bring me money. A simple 9 to 5 job was fulfilling enough for me; for some it was not, but I enjoyed it. It was something I could do and found relaxing to do, even when there was more rush. It just made sense to me.

There was not much thrill in this job. The people were nice enough; the clients were a bit bitter from time to time, depending on whether the job we had done was in their favor or not. Some of my colleagues would tell me crazy stories about some firms they had worked on or with and I would have a hard time believing it, but perhaps it was because different departments would deal with different types of clients. I had simple people: homeowners, tax payers, easy stuff. I liked it.

Now, even if I was keen on this routine that I had of going to my job, using the same transports, the same paths, headphones in to ignore the people around, I knew when following that same path would bring me trouble. I knew when to break that routine even just a little bit.

Tonight was one of those rare occasions. As I walked back home from work after having had to stay one more hour to help my colleague Darren fix his mistake—I made sure to tell him he owed me for helping him this late—I saw a group of men surrounding someone on the street. With one glance around, the entire street was empty except for those seven men and their victim. The usually crowded place was completely deserted and as I wondered how it could have happened, I noticed bikes at the end of the road blocking any possible traffic. It did not take a genius to know this was something far above me, there was no way I would interfere with that. Turning around, I made sure my steps were less heavy, less determined and started walking back. I did not have time to think I was going to get out of there safely when I heard, “Miss! Call the police-“. A thud sound, followed by a pained moan reached my ear.

When I dared look over my shoulder, I saw the man on his knees, blood pouring from his nose. I recognized him, he was a creepy older man that would sometimes stay longer on the train to look at younger women. Glancing at the other people around him, I kept my face as neutral as possible. Should I call the police? The outfits they wore all had the same sigil on them, the same pattern, and since they did not look like high schoolers I hardly believed those were school uniforms. Which led to the conclusion that they were the ones the news talked about a lot. The city was filled with gangs fighting over territory, not hesitating one bit to kill anyone who would cross them. I was sure of myself, assertive, yes… but I did not possess a savior complex. Seeing that man on the floor made me realize how wrong the system was, but I could not risk taking part in the situation and helping him. There were too many and clearly a lot scarier and stronger than I was. Looking away, I kept walking and heard them laugh, “That’s the right thing to do missy, he deserved it-“ “I said I was going to pay as soon as I got the money!” The victim interrupted; he was speaking very fast, but the fist smashing his jaw was faster to tell him to shut up. “It ain’t about that, you know it!”

Playing my music again, louder this time, I walked away and let them deal with everything, taking a different route than the one I would usually take. It’s alright to not have helped, you wouldn’t have made a difference… But he deserved it�� I can still call the police… A turmoil inside my head started as I kept walking. After a few minutes, I grabbed my phone and dialed the police department’s number; they picked up quite fast, asking me what the emergency was. “There are gang members beating up a man in-“ “I’m sorry ma’am we can’t help with that, have a nice evening.” And just like that, the person on the other end of the phone hung up. Looking at my phone incredulously, I called again, all while taking a turn and walking by a warehouse, “Hello, you must have misunderstood me earlier—it is not a joke, there are gang members in the-“ This time, I was not interrupted by the person on the phone but by my arms being grabbed suddenly.

My heartbeat picked up, I suddenly felt sick and my head started spinning. When things like this happened, we’d always think it only happened to others, so when I realized it was happening to me, I did not feel well. Blood drained from my face, from my entire body. It all happened so fast: one moment I was walking past the warehouse, then suddenly my phone hit the ground and I joined it when I was thrown on it with force. My cheekbone took all the damage as someone pressed the side of my face onto the wet ground and made sure to put weight on my back to stop me from moving. I was shivering in fear already, but that fear only grew when my hair was pushed out of the way by a bloody hand, its knuckles painted red and brown from fresh and drying blood. The action did not feel one bit intimate, it was scary, intimidating. With the pressure on my back, I was pressed against the hard floor and could barely breathe, but in a situation like this I knew better than to talk.

I knew that. Yes.

So why did I talk? Why were my nerves acting up in moments like these?

“I am sure you got the wrong person—I’m just an accountant-“ A gun was now pressed against my cheek, I took it as a sign to shut up and did so. The man on my back twisted the gun a few times against my cheek, making me open my mouth from the weird movements against my teeth, like someone forcing a dog to open its jaws to get food out of it. “Aren’t we noisy? Tonight wasn’t the right night to feel heroic, girl.” The man asked as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I closed my eyes in discomfort, my breath hitching. Laughing sadistically, he continued talking, this time his tone lowered, “Rats shouldn’t snoop in businesses that aren’t theirs.” I felt the weight shift on my back, then heard him ask someone, “Keep beating him up, I’ll take care of her then we’ll continue having our fun,” His voice was stern but I still heard some tones of him being carefree, he was enjoying this. He then addressed someone else, “Sounds good to you?” The answer consisted of muffled cries, attempts at screams that were cut off by hits then a gun cocking. With a sigh, the man on me pulled the gun away from my face and tutted the man who was bound on his knees.

I felt the weight leave my back but did not dare move, I stayed right where I was. Steps on the humid ground were heard, getting away from me but clearly approaching the man who I assumed was being tortured. The gun fired soon after, startling me as I tensed up and closed my eyes a few seconds before opening them again. The crazy man that put me on the ground laughed loudly, “Come on, it’s just the thigh, you can still walk for now, yeah?” He had said. Turning my head to look at them, I saw the older man on his knees, hands tied behind his back and suit bloody. His tie was undone, and he had wounds all over his face and chest. “I said you can walk, yeah?” Recognizing the voice, I could put a face to my aggressor as I watched him remove his glove before grabbing the victim by his arm and making him stand up, only to force him to wobble a bit. “See! I am being nice! Talk and it’s all over, come on.” He cooed in something that could be seen as sweet if it wasn’t happening in a warehouse with violent people and a man bleeding on the ground.

“I told you! I don’t know anything I-“ The man with the long earring in his left ear did not think twice before punching the office worker in the face with enough force. I believe I heard his nose crack. I caught a glimpse of the tattoos adorning his hands but could not decipher, from how far I was, what was written on them. The crazy man laughed after the punch, “Wrong answer! Haha, you have one last chance, ok?” He said, leaning over so that his face was at the same level as the other man’s. From my place on the ground, I could only see the wicked smile on his face, and it made me feel uneasy. The tall violent man was clearly crazy, having such a man roaming the city did not seem safe at all and it scared me to think of what else was happening in the shadows. “Alright, alright, please Reaper-“ The man he called Reaper gripped his chin tight and chuckled, “Straight to point, I don’t have time to waste on vermin like you, you’re no fun.” He said as a matter of fact, as if they both believed this. His face had turned serious so quickly that I feared the moment I felt like I could escape, he would change his mind in half a second.

The bleeding man nodded quickly, tears streaming down his cheeks, “It’s Silas&Sons—That’s the name of the firm that discovered something was off-'' While I was left in shock at the mention of the firm I worked at, the Reaper grinned and brought the gun to the man’s forehead, “Wasn’t hard, was it?” the man tried to tell him not to shoot, adding that the violent one had promised he would stop. The latter shook his head, “I said it’ll all be over! Listen carefully next time,” He said the last part like a parent berating their child then winked and pressed the trigger, killing the man in less than a second as his body hit the ground, blood spattering behind him. The man with black and blond hair looked at the body on the ground and chuckled to himself, “There won’t be a next time, but you get the jest.” He huffed with a wave of his hand before handing back the gun he had been given earlier. Turning around, his eyes locked on mine. I widened my eyes in pure terror and turned my face to be in the position he had left me in; I was aware he had seen me, but I was hoping he would not mention it.

The other people that were in the room had gone silent and were probably all looking at me, the woman lying on the floor, shaking, dreading for her life. The odds of me coming out of this unscathed seemed to be decreasing the more I observed what was happening around me. A stinging pain reached my scalp making me hiss, as someone lifted my head from the ground to make me look at them. While turning my head their way, I saw two men sitting on a crate, one with two braids that were long enough to go down to his ribcage while the other had shorter purple hair and glasses. Boredom adorned both their features alongside blood stains on their outfits, and yet they were nonchalant about it. I saw a man leaning behind another crate but barely managed to catch a glimpse of his tattoo that the man called Reaper snapped his fingers in front of me. “Here, I’m your tormentor, not them, yeah?” He grinned. Meeting his gaze again, I forced myself to keep my mouth shut and kept my eyes on him.

“You’re being courageous, not even crying yet! You’re a fun one, gotta love it.” He said happily, his hand patting the cheek that had taken most of the damage when he slammed me on the ground. I flinched when I saw his hand approach my face then winced at the rough touch against the bruising skin. “What will I do with you little rat? Eavesdropping ain’t nice, tattling ain’t it either.” The latter was said in a more serious tone as his expression turned somber, any humor that dripped from his words a moment ago was completely gone and he was now looking at me with caution. “Get up, come on.” I did not have a choice, the grip in my hair did not slacken and I had to follow his movement to avoid most of the pain. My clothes were dirty and damp from the humid ground; I felt my legs shake as I got to my feet and hissed at the pain when he yanked my hair for me to follow him quicker.

Pushing me forward, he threw me against the crate where the two other men were sitting. Hitting my shoulder against the wooden item, I swore under my breath and was about to fall to my knees again when the man with the long braids wrapped his legs around my neck and somewhat choked me. Caught off guard, I gripped his shins tight and tried to break free, but his hold only tightened. I heard him mock me while he dug his heels deeper in my biceps from the position he was in, “Stop moving and it’ll stop hurting, fuck you’re stupid.” He sighed with disdain, bringing me closer towards him but it only pressed my neck against the wood. Gritting my teeth, I stopped trying to get him to let go and let my arms fall to my side, when I felt the choke weaken and took a large intake of breath while focusing my eyes anywhere but on the man in front of me.

The manic laughter I had now heard many times in those few minutes I was on the floor reached my ears again, “I can see you wanna live, what are you willing to do to stay alive?” He asked in a light tone. It was a real question, but I did not want to do anything. I wanted to punch them and make a run for it, but they had guns and strength, none of which I could match in any way. I kept my mouth shut again.

The Reaper chuckled again, “I don’t know if you keeping your pretty mouth shut is a curse or a blessing-“ he stopped himself and slapped my now undamaged cheek with as much force as he could, making me yelp at the pain. I kept my face turned the direction his hand had turned it, but he gripped my chin forcefully and made me look at him. His expression had turned almost sour as he stared right into my eyes, “Fucking answer the question, what are you willing to do?” he spat, his face only breaths away from mine. Keeping a frown on, I uttered, “I wasn’t calling on you, there were people blocking another road-“ His mouth contorted into a smile once again as he pushed my face against the crate before letting go as he threw his hands in the air, and turned around on himself once, “She speaks! God it’s so entertaining to see you’re—Still. Not. Crying.” He gritted through his teeth the last three words before leaning over once again, his face very close to mine just like before.

“You’re telling me it’s a coincidence then?” He asked in a playful tone, clearly mocking me.

Fuck I wanted to make a run for it and get away from here. My heart was trying to beat out of my chest the longer I spent time here, the only thought running through my mind was: I am going to die here. How else would I end up? He had killed a man that had told him what he wanted to know, so no matter what I said he would kill me, right? Stammering a bit, I nodded the best I could with legs still around my neck, “Yes, I hadn’t seen you were here, I-“

“You’re funny! I’ll give you that! God you’re-“ He pulled back and made a rapid movement of his arms approaching me, as if putting me on display, “You’re fun! Ran, let her go.” The first part was said in excitement, the latter in the utmost seriousness. The moment he had spoken those words, the man let go of my neck and I was about to stumble when the Reaper grabbed me by the shoulders. He was tall, strangely tall, way above average, and it only added to all the traits that already made him scary. My whole body tensed, I thought this was it. He glared at me for a few moments before speaking to one of his friends, his gaze never leaving mine, “What do we know?”

An unknown voice reached my ear, it was close, so it must have been the other man on the crate, “Seems like a civilian, said she was an accountant. She also seemed surprised when the vermin said Silas&Son.” That perked the Reaper’s interest.

“Oh, so the little girl knows things. Have they sent you?” He asked, forcing me to look up by gripping my chin once more. He did not care the amount of strength he used, he couldn’t care less if I was uncomfortable, to him I was just a puppet that he could throw around and play with. Clearly he was right since I moved along and did not fight back. If I did, I would die, I was sure of it. “I was walking home from work—I saw my usual path was blocked and people were ganging up against a man so I-“ “You ran? The rat isn’t one for conflict, eh?” He patted my head and smiled almost reassuringly before letting go of me, making sure I fell on the floor. “Then? Make this quick, this ain’t the time for a bedtime story.”

“I called the police so that they could check—they said it was none of their business so I tried again and you-“ Fuck I was stuttering, the stress was too much and once I had fallen on my back, he was a lot more intimidating. He could just pull out his gun and shoot me, I could not get up with how I was shaking.

“You tried to do the right thing, right?” He asked, his back now turned to me. I could not gauge his emotion, so I replied sincerely, “Yes, it was all that I could do-“

Suddenly he turned around and pointed a gun at me, grinning, “Wrong! You could have helped the poor, poor man on the street, yeah? But you didn’t, why?” I did not reply right away, so he waved the gun around before crouching right in front of me and taking a good look at me. “They were too many-“ “That never stops a hero, does it? It’s all about charisma, determination, letting your body act faster than your brain, no?” He asked rhetorically, but while I waited for him to continue he sighed and looked down, his gun dropping lower as his arm fell limp. He started mumbling to himself a moment, using the gun to scratch his hair. Perhaps it was not the most adequate time to do so, but I looked at his outfit and saw he was wearing suit pants and a white business shirt. Quite the outfit for a murderer, but he had made sure to pull his sleeves up to not stain it. He was right in doing so since all the blood from earlier was on his black gloves and his forearms.

“Tell me, rat,” He slowly looked up and gave me a wicked smile, “Are you a hero?” He brought the gun to my forehead and all I did was close my eyes in fear. A sob escaped my lips as I tried to back away, but I was only met with the wooden crate, accidentally bumping my head against the shoes of one of the men sitting on it. “Do you believe there is good in this world? That it deserves to be saved? Hm? Would you die for this pathetic excuse of a world?” He pressed the gun even more against my skin. I heard the click as he disengaged the safety and tried to close my eyes even more than how I had already shut them, but found it impossible. My entire body was shaking, there was no helping the sobs escaping my mouth even by covering it.

I felt a gentle hand push my hand away and opened my eyes in confusion, only to see that the man who was holding a gun against me was grinning, “Answer the question.” He turned the gun horizontally and rested his arm on his knee as he placed his head on his free hand, completely relaxed. Getting lost in thoughts, I stared emptily at him while he started counting down, “Three…” Am I a hero? How would one describe a Hero? None of the mythological heroes could define me, none of those famous franchises either. “Two, think faster.” What answer did he want? Should I give him what he wants, or should I just be honest? “One-“

“I’m not a hero, I didn’t call right away because he deserved it, I-“ Taking a deep breath, I tried to take a hold of myself and calm down the best I could. “He harassed people, no one ever did anything about it-“

“See! Wasn’t hard, was it? Good girl,” He patted my head before moving the gun under my chin and raising it with the end of the gun, his finger never leaving the trigger, “You’re also a bad person then, you’re like us, right? Some people do deserve to die!”

Shuddering, I took a shaky breath and inhaled, “I’m nothing like you-“ “If he died it’s because ye didn’t act quick enough, don’t you agree?” He inquired with a pleading look, the mockery never leaving his tone. “I don’t, no.” My words were followed by the gun leaving my person as the man stood up quickly and barked out a laugh before asking his friends if they had heard that, they only grumbled in reply. He tucked the gun in the back of his pants and I quickly let my head down in fear I had triggered him somehow, frightened it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. “I like you, accountant woman. I just wanna see one thing to know what I should do with you—well two, but I’ll start slow.” Bringing his arm behind his back, I tensed again but then felt the gun hit my ankle as he threw it at me.

“Shoot me,” He ordered as he crouched in front of me, his arms crossed over his knees while grinning broadly. “I killed a guy, right? I am bad, killing me should make you a hero.” His little speech was stupid, it only started a vicious cycle of death with no end. Killing a killer that killed one person? It’d make me a killer that killed one person, and so on. But he brought his hand to mine and wrapped my fingers around the handle of the gun before pressing it against his forehead. “Here, you can’t miss from this close, show me you got guts! Come on, do it.” That grin turned into something scary, manic, he was getting off on the thrill. But my hands were shaking, I had never held a gun before, never intended to, but tonight was nothing if not exceptional. When I tried to put my arm down, he grabbed my elbow and kept it up, “It’s you or me, come on, make this fun for both of us-“ “I’m not shooting you in the head! You’re insane-“

Hearing my words well, he barked a laugh then guided the gun to his heart, one of the men behind me sighed and told him to hurry up, but the Reaper only shushed him. “Here, then? Sounds better?” Nothing was right in his head; I couldn’t understand what he was doing. No matter how hard I tried, I did not know the point he was making, but taking all this time to think about it made me lose the position of power he had given me. Forcing my hand to let go of the gun, he took it and, at the speed of light, put it in my mouth, making a sob escape it as he did so. “That’s a missed opportunity, too bad.” He shrugged then as I saw him press the trigger. I closed my eyes, my hands gripping my thighs so tight, it must have left some marks under the fabric of my pants.

The click of the trigger echoed, and I felt myself jump on the spot at how loud the bang was—so this is it? That thought crossed my mind rapidly, but was shoved aside by the loud ringing in my ears. I then heard footsteps echoing around the warehouse. The gun was no longer in my mouth, there were no bullets, it was a blank; I felt my stomach churn and opened my eyes in panic before pushing my tormentor away. I was surprised when he let me do so, but it was better for him. Slamming my hands down, I was on the floor as I emptied my stomach on the concrete. Chuckles reached my ears along with the whispers of a few words, “Can’t even stomach a bit of gun play.” “Should have killed her, blood stench leaves easier than vomit.” The latter comment made one of them laugh.

When I was done, I thought for a second that death was quick, most of the time. And when it wasn’t, you expected it, you weren’t filled with stress. Hence why no one ever spoke of post-mortem vomit. It made me laugh only for a second until I was pushed back on my ass when the man with the earring pressed his foot against my chest, making me wince. “Your name, what is it?” he asked seriously.

Feeling some sort of confidence build up, I looked up at him and leaned over, using the hem of his pants to wipe my mouth, but did not answer. The seriousness on his face turned into the look of someone who had been challenged; he snapped his fingers, then I heard someone say my name, my birthdate and my birthplace. Looking at the person who kept reading out loud, I saw the man with a tiger tattoo on his neck approach before tossing my wallet at me. I did not know when they had found the time to pickpocket me, but they managed to. My cheeks were burning up from the sickness, the stress and the embarrassment this entire situation brought but I still tried to keep my head high, for what it was worth. Bringing my hands to my face, I only now felt the tears that had rolled down my cheeks.

“Okay little tattletale, I think I’ll let you go for now-“ “Are you not going to kill me? Isn’t this what you do?” I asked in a weak voice, not even attempting to get up after all the time you had been mishandled. Both the man with the earring and the tattooed one were standing in front of me. The former reached out for my hand to help me get up, I did not take it, so he sighed loudly and bent over to grab my bicep and forcefully get me up. “We only kill snitches and annoying fucks, are you one of those?” I was about to tell him no when he leaned over suddenly and pressed his index against my lips to shut me up. Startled, I tried to step back but he held the back of my head with his free hand and beamed, “No, you’re not. You’re gonna be useful, you’re just the right amount of malleable,” The finger that had left my mouth moved to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, I shivered in disgust, “I can see it in your eyes that you’ll be a fun one to work with.”

I tried to pull away from him, but his hand gripped my hair tight and kept me in place, stopping me from leaning back when he approached closer, “Since you’re not a hero, we’ll make you a villain then—I mean, it’s not going to be hard considering your stance on killing.” He grimaced at that before turning it into a full laugh and letting go of me.

“Rindou, take her back to her place-“ “I’m not doing that, I got plans with Ran. Send the tiger boy, we’re done for tonight.” The one with purple hair and glasses said as he hopped off the crate, followed by the other man on it. It made the Reaper’s face turn sour as he gripped the one who had just spoken and tightened his hold on his shoulder, “I don’t do escorting, that’s your job.” He gritted through his teeth.

Seeing the tension, I put my wallet back in my bag and cleared my throat, “I’ll—I can walk home on my own, by now they must be gone-“ All of them looked at me with a threatening gaze, I felt like a deer caught in headlights. The man with the braids started walking off, Ran was his name I believe, along with the man with the tattoo on the neck, while the two others stayed right there and glared at me. When I took a step back, taking their silence for permission, the Reaper wrapped his arm around my shoulders and held me close to him, “Right, I’ll do it tonight. Just because she’s a fun one-“ “I can walk home alone, it’s no problem,” I tried to push him away, my hands were shaky and had a few scraps. Without the constant manhandling, not that I missed it, I could feel the dampness of my clothes and how cold it was getting.

Looking down at me without any expression on his face, the Reaper turned us around and waved everyone goodbye, his arm never leaving my shoulders. “We both know that’s not true, if we let you walk home alone you might get beaten up by—how did you put it? ‘Gang members’, yeah, that was what you said on the phone.” He hummed, shoving his free hand in his pocket as he guided us outside. I felt uneasy in his hold, I felt like he was walking me towards my execution. I did not want to lead him to my house, but what choice did I have? He would find it sooner or later; at least that’s what he said, but I did not know how much truth there was to it. In my eyes, it was but a small group of violent men that had killed someone.

“In the end you did get beaten up by a gang member, but it could’ve been worse.” He said lightheartedly as he stopped in front of a car. When I paused my steps and still did not look at him, simply waiting for his next move, I felt him grab my chin and turn my head towards him. My breath hitched in fear as I met his golden eyes. He seemed a bit bored now, but I couldn't care less how he felt, I wanted to bolt away from his touch. “You should disinfect that, and you’ll definitely bruise, but you probably have makeup or something to hide that.” He shrugged.

When he leaned over again, I brought my hands in front of me and closed my eyes to stop him from touching me, but I only heard him huffing a laugh next to my ear as he opened the door of the passenger seat. “Get in, I’ll drop you off.” Looking up at him, I blinked a few times then glanced at the inside of the car. I don’t know what I was expecting, something dirty, bloody, disgusting perhaps. But instead, it was perfectly clean, not a speck of dirt in sight. It looked like an expensive car, but perhaps it was just very clean, I did not know. Still unsure, I hesitantly got inside and was about to close the door but felt a certain strength holding it back. The man was leaning on the door and bent over to peek his head inside the car, thinking he needed something. I pressed myself more against the seat to let him grab what he wanted, but his hand reached for the belt and fastened it for me.

“Wouldn’t want you to escape—ah, I mean, safety first.” He said mockingly before winking and slamming the door shut. My hands found their way to the belt and held it tight as I watched him walk around the car. His steps were too big for me to make a run for it, he would catch up on me in no time, I was stuck with him. As he entered the vehicle and fastened his own seatbelt, he pointed at the glove box and handed me his gloves, “Put them back and hand me a wipe, tattletale.”

His craziness was a lot more toned down, for a second I wondered how many faces this man had. The one I was seeing right now was intimidating from how put together he seemed, the other one was scary from how unexpected his actions were. “Why aren’t you killing me?” I asked without looking at him, focused on pushing the gun out of the way inside the glove box and grabbing the little pack of wipes. Giving it to him, his brow was quirked, “Because you’re a good girl,” He grinned, wiping his hands as he continued, “No one would ever suspect you’re working with the likes of a gang. You’re gonna be useful and that’s all that matters, you should be thankful I didn’t kill you. I hate people who eavesdrop.” He said, as he shoved the wipe in the door compartment.

“I didn’t eavesdrop.” I muttered, looking outside the window when he started the car. The laugh that erupted out of nowhere scared me, making me tense again, I dared to look his way and saw his manic smile again. “So, you’re an accountant, pretty boring. You should be thrilled I chose you.” He said in a mix of pride and humor before increasing the volume of the music then drumming his fingers on the wheel. Thinking about his words some more, I glanced his way and lowered the volume, catching his attention as he looked me dead in the eyes. “What if I don’t want to work with you?” I asked, measuring my tone to not piss him off, it did not take a genius to understand this man was unstable and that I needed to tread lightly around him.

Even with as much care as I put in my voice, his reaction was sudden when he turned the wheel and stopped the car on the side of the road. Passing cars honked in annoyance but the man did not care one bit while I had slammed my hand on the dashboard to stop my head from hitting it. Insulting him under my breath, I looked up and saw he had placed his arms on the wheel, his left cheek resting on his forearm. “Then leave. Get out right now, nothing’s stopping you.”

“What’s stopping me is that you’ll kill me, or you’ll run me over, multiple times,” I could see the smile on his face was spreading, but he did not move. The condescendence in his lack of reaction, of action, annoyed me but at the same time frightened me, was he going to slam my head against the window? Against the dashboard? I did not know, but I continued, stammering this time from how nervous I was becoming, “My life is on the fucking line, that’s what’s holding me back.” I spat. My eyes had never left his, even as his smile turned into a grin and his slender fingers gripped the wheel tighter.

When he did not look away, I did. At the same time, I turned on the seat and fully looked ahead instead of facing him. A silence set for a moment then I heard the car start and the man sighed, content, “You’re smart to stay, you’re only alive because I can use you. If you had left, I’d have shot you and left you on the side of the road to die.” He said in a light tone. The words he had spoken had the same effect of a bullet; my guts took a hit without being truly hit. I did not have a choice at all, I was stuck working for a man I did not know without even knowing what I had to do.

His hand rose and I closed my eyes, flinching slightly, “Type in your address, tattletale.” With the little confidence that remained, I lifted my shaky hand and typed it in while telling him that I had a name. Then added, “You should use it. Maybe there is a name I can call you by?” I was not asking for his ID, nor anything specific, if he had a codename in his stupid gang or something like that I would go with it, but calling him Reaper in my head sounded idiotic. “Sorry doll, I think nark or snitch suits you a lot more.” He hummed a moment, throwing me a glance from the corner of his eyes as his hands moved on the wheel absent-mindedly. Huffing in annoyance, I placed my elbow against the window and rested my chin against my fist, thinking he was done. After all, why should I care what he called me? I should simply call him an asshole if he was so keen on calling me a snitch. Or perhaps I should live up to the title and do exactly that, tell the police.

A hand wrapped around my wrist and pulled me out of my daydream with my head bumped against the window. Wincing in pain, I heard the man laugh loudly while being focused on the road, “That’s deserved for not paying attention.” He said through laughter. “Pay attention to what? The road? I’m not the one driving-“ “To me, you should keep your guard up, snitch. Who knows what I could do.” He said with a deadpan expression. Without looking at me, he brought his hand to tuck my hair out of the way, then glanced at me and smirked. His touch was light, almost gentle. It allowed me to get a proper look at his tattoo, but I could not focus on it at all, I only tensed up before feeling him grip my throat and bring me closer to him. I made a choking sound and complied to avoid as much pain as possible, “You can call me Hanma, as long as you don’t scream it from every fucking rooftop.”

I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. This night was not going as planned at all and every time I found any respite, it would be ruined, and the man would turn violent again. I could not let my guard down, I knew it but when he would just stay put, I could not help myself but think he was done. Clearly he wasn’t. His hold lessened a bit, so I took the opportunity to claw his hand away and pull myself back, my own hand around my throat in protection. “They called you the Reaper.” I croaked, wanting him to talk more so that I wouldn’t have to.

“They did, yeah.” He shrugged.

That was it. He did not add anything else. The matter was closed. When I asked him why they did that, he pulled the car on the side of the road again, startling me in the process. With how on edge I was, I did not realize where we were and thought he would be mad again, but instead he looked over my shoulder and nodded, “That’s you, get out.” He told me as his left arm rested on the wheel while the right one was on the back of the seat, casually leaning on it while looking at me. Looking behind me, I saw my house and felt some hope at finally being able to get home and yet… I did not leave right away and instead prodded, “The news talks about your gang, how many people did you kill?” His eyes traveled from my head to my hands then up to my head again, the arrogance never leaving his face as he leaned back against the car door and waved a hand dismissively, “Take a guess, I think it should be fun.”

I was about to give him a number when he leaned forward quickly, his face right in front of mine as he whispered, “Don’t forget those in comas or those at the hospital, they might not be dead, but they might as well be,” He chuckled happily then approached even closer, his lips right next to my ear, “They’re only alive because I said they could be, like you are. One wrong move and,” leaning back quickly, he clapped his hands, “Bang, dead.” He said dead meaning those in the hospital, but I fully understood he was threatening me, I was not an idiot.

Taking this as my cue to go, I unbuckled my seatbelt and when I was about to open the door, I heard the mechanism of the car locking it. Turning around to look at Hanma, I wordlessly asked if he needed anything else. His hand reached out towards me, “Your phone.”

“I didn’t record this or anything, I was not on a call with the police either, I-“ snatching it from my hand while I was rambling, Hanma tried to unlock it but instead was met with a locked screen. Hesitantly, I took it from his hand, mine being a lot shakier than his seeing how steady his were and unlocked it before giving it back to him. A minute passed and he handed the phone back to me, “We’ll be in contact. Things are gonna change for you, doll. Hope you’re ready for what’s coming.”

He was an unusual character, he was confusing, violent, and surely insane. All of those things added up in my mind, making me accidentally let it slip, “How can one be ready with you? Crazy man…” I said it all under my breath and huffed the last part as I pushed the door open. I let out a sigh when the door opened easily, part of me even thanked the man for not keeping me in any longer but I was still on my toes, certain he would say something else as I left the car, but he did not.

Grabbing my bag, I shuffled away from the car that still hadn’t moved and kept glancing over my shoulders until I reached the door where I struggled to put the key in the keyhole. At each failed attempt my frustration grew, the swears flooded out of my mouth easily and soon it turned into a stupid crying of frustration. “Fuck this, fucking shit-“ when the key finally fit, I hurried inside and locked the door behind me again but this time with the sliding lock, knowing full well I would struggle again too much to lock my door with the key seeing how tensed I still was.

The darkness of my home was what welcomed me. It was awful, it was cold and above everything it felt oppressive—my face was heating up, I was suffocating, my clothes were burning my skin, but I was also shaking. Fanning my face, I made my way to the bathroom with heavy steps, my breath was quickening, was it breathing or heaving? I needed to calm down, I needed to ground myself but I did not know how, this never happened but I felt like I was dying. I could not breathe, my lungs hurt at each intake of breath. “Fuck, fuck, shit, calm down“ I panted while taking off my clothes, I needed to take everything off, I wanted to burn them, it was filthy, disgusting and smelled wretched.

As I took off my top, I caught a whiff of the stench of the warehouse and let out a sob but did not let it stop me even if I could not breathe. I removed the rest of my clothes and knelt by the bath, leaning over to turn the shower on but did not wait for it to be warm to step inside and let it pour all over my dirtied body. The coldness made me take a deep breath that seemed to have helped with the panic attack I was having, but it did not help the crying, so I let it all out while I was washing up. What have I gotten myself into? What happens next? What am I supposed to do now? Is he going to ask me to kill someone? Am I going to have to use a gun? I didn’t want to do any of those, I only walked by something I had nothing to do with and—letting out a scream of frustration, I sat down in the bath and let the water rain on me. I ran my hands through my wet hair and placed my elbows on my knees, grunting again, “I don’t do gangs… I do numbers, I don’t have time to murder people…” I mumbled.

Letting my own words sink in, I let out a chuckle at first and focused my gaze on the wall in front of me then laughed again, shortly. I don’t have time to murder people, yeah… “Because if you had time you would?” I asked myself jokingly as I stood up, laughing again. Shaking my head, I shut the shower off and got out, almost slipping on the water that had splattered around the bath. I hadn’t taken time to put a towel on the floor or prepare anything, fortunately I managed to balance myself and took one from the closet. Once I was dry, I wrapped my robe around my form and stopped in front of the mirror, taking a proper look at the damage I had taken.

The scratch on my cheekbone was bruised, there was another bruise on my neck that I could probably hide with a turtleneck, the season allowed it, and if not with a turtleneck then a scarf would do the trick. Disrobing myself just to take a look at the rest of it, I had some bruises on my arms where I was grabbed to be moved roughly, without counting the pain on my ass but no one would see that. Passing my tongue over my teeth, I was glad as I still had all of them, but my jaw hurt, “Did I bite the inside of my cheek? At what moment could-“ A flashback of when the man slapped me with full force appeared in my mind, fueling me with a bad feeling of uneasiness as I put back my robe. “Bastard…” I huffed before opening the door of my bathroom and stepping inside the dark room again. Talking to myself, I continued, “Nothing’s stopping me from telling the police, who does he think he is? I could very well call them, yeah…” I paused in my steps and scoffed dryly, “Not that they’d listen.”

The news was always talking about the gangs in the city, telling us that the police were working on stopping them, but no one knew the people that were supposed to defend and help were a bunch of sellouts, bribed out idiots. The system we had put our trust in had decided to fuck us over and to leave us to ourselves, it was because of them that I was in this situation. It’s not like it had been hard to stumble upon one of their gang meetings. They might claim discretion, but if anyone could find them, it was anything but. “Who am I kidding? I am fucked,” I barked a laugh and turned on the light, “Guess I am a gang member-“ I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the man my thoughts were plagued with, sitting on my couch, his legs crossed with one ankle over a knee. “Not exactly, you still need to prove yourself. But I love the enthusiasm!” He said while placing an arm on the back of the couch and looking at me with a satisfied smile, not even fully facing me, only to look right ahead once he was done talking.

Usually, one would say don’t turn your back on your enemy, but he was the predator here, he had nothing to fear, I was the one shaking in my metaphorical boots. Deciding to not be useless, I was about to shuffle to the kitchen discretely when I saw him beckon me closer by bending his index finger. Thinking I could play it off as not having seen it, I took one step towards the kitchen when I heard him click his tongue over his teeth, “I said, come here.” Stopping dead in my tracks, I did not speak, and silently opened my bag to pull out my phone and start recording. His hand gripped the back of the couch and I heard him chuckle mockingly, “Ran said you were stupid, but we both know you’re not, now come.” Putting the phone properly on the furniture, I followed his order and walked up to him to stand right in front of him, my arms crossed over my chest to close my bathrobe up to my neck.

“How the fuck did you get in?” I spat. He was not driving, which meant he could not throw me out of a speeding car. He was not surrounded by other maniacs either, and if he had a gun and decided to shoot me, I would have proof of it. There was a semblance of safety, even amidst the fact that the man had broken in without caring. It led me to have some confidence.

The man grinned and leaned over, his elbows resting on his knees. His demeanor was one of a man in control, he knew he could do anything to me because I would bend, he said it himself, I was malleable. But not for lack of will, simply by fear. And if he kept bending me this much, I would not last long, I would break. As long as I feared him, he had the upper hand… but I was not feeling fearless yet. With a low chuckle, he simply said, “Broke in with pliers,” then showed me the pair of pliers lying on the couch. I glanced at my door and saw the chain of my lock was broken as he had said, but that loss of attention directed to him annoyed him. Snapping his fingers, he brought my attention back to him, “Here, you should make a double of your key-“ “I’m not doing that. First, you’ll pay me back for breaking my lock, then if you want to meet up for whatever you got planned for me, you pick a spot but not-“

My breath hitched when Hanma rapidly stood up, his form towering mine as he looked down at me with his hair falling randomly on his forehead. “We got a lotta confidence suddenly, don’t we? Go ahead, finish your sentence, I’m listening.” He cooed in a condescending tone, his face approaching mine as he hovered slightly over me. Looking up at him, I looked down to his chest feeling my confidence wane slightly. When I tried to step back, not liking how close he was to me, he placed his hand on my shoulder to stop me. “Come on partner, let it all out, you seem to have a lot on your mind. Keeping it all bottled up ain’t gonna end up well. We should get along if we’re gonna work together, yeah?” He said in a fake listening attitude, we both knew he didn’t care but I was riled up and clenched my fists.

“I don’t want you in my house, you’re a piece of shit. I don’t want to get along, I want you to fuck off—Get out.” I managed to say everything without stuttering, but his grip tightened on my shoulder, making me tense up even if it was not painfully tight. Simply knowing that nothing was holding him back, not his mind, nor his ethics, nothing. His mood was the turning point of his actions, which means one change of emotion could make him go feral and hit me, it scared me. Hissing mockingly, he tilted my chin up to make me look at him, a smirk adorning his face, “Make me leave then, do something about it.” Grabbing both my shoulders, he pushed me back slightly then spread his arms wide, a huge smile on his face, “Go ahead, I won’t do anything—it’s free hits,” He taunted. When I did not move, he pointed at his face and licked his lips like an animal looking at its next meal.

“Do it, show me your guts, little rat! I hit you right? I put a gun to your head, that must be so annoying, right?” Biting the inside of my cheek, I could feel my frustration building up inside me again. He had done all those things, and no regret was written on his face, none. He had killed a man, broken inside my house, manhandled me and hit me. He had mocked me, humiliated me, mistreated me and while it all happened in a short time span, I already felt strongly about him. Reminding myself all that, I hadn’t realized the hit that flew from my person until it landed on his jaw, my fist feeling like it had hit a wall. His face turned to the side by the end of the action.

Using the heel of his hand to wipe the blood that dripped from his mouth, he looked at me with hooded eyes and grinned, his teeth colored red, “That’s hot, but ye shouldn’t have done that.”

[Part 2]