#Lowes round plaster ring

[pretty-sparkle-bomb]

Guys, idk what this was. But uh... enjoy!

“Stop being a pussy and just call him already!” Mina sighed, pushing the phone to you. “I went through the trouble of asking Kaminari for his number—do you know how embarrassing that was?” Jirou cried out, throwing her hands in the air.

“I don’t wanna. What am I even going to say?” you pouted, walking to your lunch spot on the rooftop. Sitting down with a plop, you pulled out your bento and started eating.

The two girls shared a glance before snickering. “I saw him talking with Ochako the other day.”  Mina finally said, causing you to pause your current actions. “Pardon?” you ask, looking up at her with raised eyebrows. You made sure to always keep a keen eye on him, so how did she manage to speak to him without you noticing?

“Saw them walking round the field.” Mina continued, as she and Jirou sat as well, eating slowly. You nodded, indicating for her to continue. “Yeah, she had her umbrella shading the two of them, and she was walking around the field with him – like they did lots of laps – and then she pulled out her phone and gave it to him… I’m guessing they swapped numbers of something. Anyways, then she proceeded to giggle about having a fourth man. She says she just wants to play him.”

“Call him.” You mumble, looking away as you placed your chopsticks down and closed your bento box, placing it aside and dapping your mouth slightly with the tissue. Jirou chuckled and pulled out her phone.

“Make your number private, we don’t want him finding out just yet.” Mina instructs, as Jirou happily complies. She puts the phone on speaker, passing it to you.

With sweaty hands and baited breath, you collect the device, holding it flat in line with your mouth. Surprisingly, he picks up on the second ring, his gruff voice filtering through the speakers.

Your breath hitches and with wide eyes you realise, you didn’t plan out what you were gonna say to him.

“Who the fuck-? Oi!” his voice came through again, definitely pissed that he wasn’t receiving an answer.

“B-Bakugo?” you suddenly blurt out, not wanting him to end the call. Looking towards Mina and Jirou, you notice that they’re holding in their laughter, hands plastered over each other mouths.

“Who’s this?” he asks impatiently and you swear you can hear the faint voice of a curious Kirishima in the background.

"Uh…just a friend," you stammer, inwardly cringing at how unconvincing you sound. In the background, you hear Kirishima’s muffled laughter, and you swear Bakugo lets out a frustrated huff.

“What kinda friend calls with a blocked number?” Bakugo grumbles with suspicion. If you don't get to the point, I'm hangin' up."

You glance desperately at Mina and Jirou, who are both barely containing their laughter. Mina mouths, say something cool! which only makes your heart race faster.

“Uhm, well, I—” You stumble over your words, trying to think of literally anything, but all that comes out is, “...I just wanted to say hi?” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you want to slap yourself. Seriously?

On the other end, there’s a silence so long it might as well be a black hole.

Then, just as you’re about to apologize and hang up, Bakugo’s low, skeptical voice cuts through. “...Are ya messin’ with me?”

You squeak out, “No! I mean, yes! I mean—well, maybe a little?” You’re mentally kicking yourself as you fumble through the words. At this rate, Bakugo’s going to have you blacklisted.

Another beat of silence passes, before Kirishima’s voice rings out in the background, louder this time. “Aw, come on, man! They’re just tryin’ to be friendly! Maybe it’s a secret admirer?”

And then there’s the dial tone. He hung up. You groan, kicking your foot onto the concrete below and passing the phone to Jirou. “See? Told you he wasn’t interested.”

Both girls had surprised expressions on their faces, which soon turned into massive grins as they scooched away from you. “What the-?”

“That’s ‘cause ya blocked ya number.”

Pause.

Bakugo Katsuki was right behind you.

[neoplatinum]

link up - avenoir | yoo 'karina' jimin

summary: jimin has a complicated predicament to deal with — you sleeping with her friend, chaehyun. knowing that you two don’t have an official label sends her in a tailspin

pairing: situationship!jimin x reader

themes: hurt jimin, confused reader, ultimately just dummy reader being beyond stupid, mentions of chaehyun (kepler), jeno (nct)

wc: 1.6k

“jimin do not pick up that call.” yizhou instinctively grabbed the phone straight from jimin. to which aeri let out a giggle and then continued. “it’s doing you no good to continue whatever you have going on with her.” minjeong nodded fervently; the three girls stared at jimin eyeing the vibrating phone with your nickname and photo plastered on the front.

“but what if she’s in danger?” minjeong could feel her blood pressure rising just at the question. 

“jimin, when has she ever called you when she’s in danger,” aeri was always calmer and logical in her responses.

“the only danger she could be in is not getting to eat you out by the end of the night.” yizhou folded her arms and crossed her legs.

“ning!! that’s not the point!” minjeong slapped yizhou and instead placed a comforting hand on jimin’s shoulder. 

“she doesn’t deserve access to you, and you know that! especially after what she did.”

“ESPECIALLY after what she did.” yizhou emphasized before turning off jimin’s phone.”

--

“she’s not picking up.”

yunjin kept singing into the new world with chaewon while sakura was cheering them on. ryujin turns her head towards you, “of course she isn’t picking up! i wouldn’t pick up either!”

“but she always picks up!”

“maybe she finally woke up and realizes how shitty you are.” eunchae shouts as she eats another takoyaki. you shrink further into the couch.

“eunchae!! language!!” sakura shouted and continued banging on her drum ring and cheering on the duet.

“listen, all im saying is that sleeping with her friend is a bad look if you’re trying to get with her!” ryujin tried reasoning with you.

“i thought it would make her jealous and you know…want to be official with me.” you hung your head low.

“how could you possibly think that was the best way to do that?” kazuha rolled her eyes and pointed at you, “you shouldve just asked her whats going on with her and jeno instead of sleeping with her friend!”

“fuck, im so stupid.”

“so so stupid.” sakura said while yunjin and chaewon harmonized a final “so so stupid~”

you let out a sigh and left the noraebang room to grab more soju.

--

“hi.” jimin flatly says.

“hi.” you nervously reply.

yeji groaned and rolled her eyes before stomping out of her dorm with ryujin in tow. when ryujin urgently called you saying that yeji was in trouble in her dorms you weren’t expecting to see jimin face to face after two months of radio silence.

it was all a ploy from yeji and ryujin so you two could finally talk again.

“are you okay?” trying to tread lightly as you're in her room, which could easily mean that she's going to smack you.

“yes, why?” jimin stepped away from you and turned her attention back to her laptop where her essay sat still on her screen. you could feel the panic rise in your body, after begging for a response from jimin, being alone with her caused your brain to blank. you suddenly forgot all the apologies and speeches you spent sleepless nights reciting when stood in her room.

“well?” she continued to type out her essay not sparing you a single glance. this is where you had to be bold.

“jimin, can we talk?”

“oh so you want to talk? after sleeping with chaehyun? yeah sure lets talk.”

you grimaced and pulled yejis chair closer to jimin and sat down. seeing her again after so long tugged at your heart, she was still so so adorable with her shin-chan headband and big round glasses. you recognized that tick in her jaw though, she was tense.

“the only reason i slept with chaehyun was because i thought it would make you jealous and well, get together with me?” you trailed off at the end. to which jimin finally turned to look at you with furious eyes.

“i cannot believe you! how could you possibly think that was a good idea?” she crossed her arms and eyed you.

“it wasn’t a good idea!! i am very sorry, i was jealous because there were rumors that you were sleeping with jeno and i know we aren’t exclusive but, it made me nervous to ask you if its true and well, i wasn’t thinking.” you ramble on and on to which it only infuriates jimin more.

“jeno? so you heard rumors and believed them instead of asking me instead?”

“yes, im very sorry jimin. i know i shouldve asked you and not assume anything but, he kept talking about you and it got to me.”

“shit, i need to speak to him, he knows we’re just friends.” jimin mumbled out. “NOT THE POINT, you still slept with chaehyun.”

“i know, i know, and truly, i really am sorry.”

and suddenly, jimin stands from her chair and stares at the wall blankly before turning to you.

“i’ve heard enough of your apologies i need time to process all this.” jimin says and stands up walking you out of her dorm. you groan and let out a sigh when you dial ryujin’s number.

“how did it go?” ryujin whispers.

“she didn’t hit me, so i think okay?” you walked away from jimin and yeji’s dorm to see ryujin and yeji at the vending machines. you hung up your phone.

“i should’ve kicked your ass for what you did to jimin,” yeji stares at you "but she told me not to, so count your blessings." and with a final nod yeji stomps away.

ryujin gives you a sheepish smile and pats your back. “good luck, i hope you know how great of a friend i am. i convinced yeji to let me do this so she put us on a temporary sex ban.”

“ew ryujin, i do not need to know that.”

“you will know exactly how much i care about you that im not going to be intimate with MY girlfriend for your sake.” and with that you and ryujin walked out of the building.

--

you stare at jimin as she continues playing fiercely on the court, not knowing you are in the stands. you have also been trying to avoid aeri and yizhou’s wrath so you wrap your jacket a little tighter and pull your hood down further. 

as the game ends in a tie, you see all the players spread out to leave the court, you’re hoping to catch jimin alone so you can properly apologize after that conversation in her dorm last week.

“jimin!” you shout at she grabs her jacket and water bottle. she scowls at you but waits for you to reach her. “hi! these are for you!”

“okay?” she grabs the bouquet out of your hands and quickly throws them into a trashcan.

“jimin please wait!” 

she turns to you and watches you expectantly.

“go on, say what you were going to say.”

“okay! i really really like you, i think ive liked you since we first met. and when you suggested we sleep together just because i was ecstatic, the girl of my dreams wanted to be with me even if it wasn't exclusive. i shouldn't have listened to jeno and his stupid man words, it just irked me so much to know how close you two were and when his friends were implying you guys were together, i lost it. it felt like i had lost you and i didn’t know what else to get your attention back. so i slept with chaehyun and i know it looks bad because it is bad, but i really only wanted your attention, im sorry i didnt communicate my feelings for you better and caused all this. i regret so much of what i did but i'll never regret my feelings for you jimin.”

and by now aeri and yizhou have gathered behind you, ready to knock your head down if jimin asked but all you could do is try to convey your deepest feelings for the girl that had captured your heart.

jimin was tearing up and sobbing at this point and you wanted nothing more to hold her but you knew you would be overstepping boundaries, and most likely get a kick from yizhou from behind.

“you really hurt me, when chaehyun texted me that you two had slept together, my world fell apart. i didn’t want to confirm it with you because if you had confirmed it, it would’ve just proved that all we had was simply a fling, and to me it was never just a fling.” jimin hiccups while shes crying and holding her jacket tighter.

“you’re not just a fling to me either, i like you and only you.”

“i do too.” she whispers. “we should stop sleeping together.” she adds on.

“of course, anything you’d like.”

jimin sighs and lifts her head, “we did this all backwards, we should've gone on dates first, maybe we wouldnt be here like this.”

“i would have done any way to be with you jimin.” you speak earnestly.

“stop trying to smooth talk me im still mad at you.” she chastises you.

“okay, ill stop.” a warm smile took over. out of the corner of your eyes, you spot something coming fast towards you.

"you little shit! get over here, i don't forgive you even if jimin has!" yizhou shouts as she gets runs at you. you escape jimin's hold and start running away, trying to find an exit.

"oh no!" you run out of the gymnasium with aeri and yizhou chasing after you and a laughing minjeong chasing after the two.

--

a/n: i hope you enjoyed it! stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑨𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒔*

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 2

Chapter(2) Title -> Die Happy

Chapter Warnings: This one contains smut, Unprotected sex, Creampie (ofc), knotting, “Marking”, biting, mentions of blood and ingesting it. Oral (f), dirty talk, Chans a bit possessive, Nails in skin?, Multiple orgasms. And the rest is just cute and fluffy lol. As always sorry for any mistakes.

A/N: This- came out way longer than I anticipated, however I made yall wait long enough so lol. Hope yall enjoy😘

Series Masterlist

-🐾

The nerves had you wide awake all night, mind wondering about how things were gonna be. How they were gonna be. Would they like you? Would.. would they only like you because you’re an omega? No. Chan seemed genuine about liking you before the news. It was hard to believe though, such a handsome man. A handsome well rounded man liking you? You tossed and turned in your bed trying to shut your brain off. You didn’t remember falling asleep but last time you saw on the clock was 5am. Shit- you had be up to help you dad at 9. ‘Fuck me’ you groaned.

RING RING

Your alarm was going off. The loud sound waking you made you mad. You grabbed your phone trying to turn it off not being able to hit the button. You were about to throw it against the wall if it didn’t stop. The sound deafening, finally you hit the button. Ah silence. You turned back into your bed cuddling up to your stuffed animal before drifting back off to sleep. A few hours later a knock at your door was heard. You grumbled out a “go away” tossing your pillow over your head. A chuckle came from the door but you were too tired to even respond.

“Didn’t sleep well?” A voice said as you felt the bed dip beside you. You thought it was your dad at first so you took your pillow smacking him with it. “Hey!” He said with another chuckle before peeling the pillow from your face. His eyes met your sleepy ones, it was Chan. It was Chan! Your eyes widen a bit scrambling to sit up. Your hair was all a mess, with no shorts under your long shirt. “You know it’s 11 right?” He said with that oh so heart melting smile of his plastered to his face. “Fuck!” You said scrambling to find your phone “Don’t worry love, your dad wanted you to sleep. I stopped by the store and he said you were out cold” he said.

He brought his hand up to move some hair from your face settling his hand on your cheek. “Crazy how you’re still so beautiful after waking up.” God your heart was about to explode. “Am not” you somehow get out feeling it getting stuck in your throat. He chuckled leaning in close before kissing your cheek softly. “I’d never lie to you, my beautiful mate” he said oh so softly. He smiled seeing your face become a pretty pink “want to sleep more?” He asked looking over your face. You shook your head “no- I should get up and pack” you said avoiding his gaze.

“Just gotta bring clothes we got everything else covered! The boys have been decorating it for you” he said. “You guys didn’t have too-“ you said in a low voice. “Love, my beautiful darling. You will be spoiled beyond belief so get use to it.” He said eyes darting over your face. You couldn’t help but smile the pink on your face quickly turning a deep red. He kissed your cheek once more before getting up. “Take your time love, I’ll be in the living room.” He said before getting up leaving your room.

When you finally got up yawning as you stretched. You looked out your window, it was so nice outside. It was a nice day out the sun breaming into your room. You let out a relaxed sigh taking a seat at the edge of your bed. You grabbed your bag throwing clothes in, you could always come back to get more when needed. Two bags later you walked down the stairs seeing Chan scrolling his phone. When he saw you walk down his face went a bit red. Seeing you just in your long bed shirt that came down to your knees. He gulped a bit ‘I’m not some horny teenager’ he said to himself trying to snap himself out of it.

“Bags are packed, I’m gonna get a shower quick if that’s ok?” You said sitting the bags by the couch. “Yeah- it’s fine” he said eyes looking over your body. “Awesome I’ll be” you said trailing off before bending over to grab a pair of panties and your hoodie from the clothes you had packed. The way you bent down gave Chan a nice view of your ass. Shit- his mouth dropped. Purple, Purple panties with- with lace. His head spun mind going a mile a minute. ‘I bet you look so pretty with those soaking wet’. “Right back” you continued snapping him back to reality. “Y-yeah take your time” he said face heating up from his thoughts.

After your shower you came back downstairs hair all fixed, make up done and your cutest dress you could find. He smiled wide looking at you making you blush instantly. “Think they’ll like it?” You said your eyes big like the cute little puppy you were. “They’ll love it, I love it” he said the latter coming out as a stutter which made you blush even more. “We have a bit till everything’s ready at the house” he said. “Wanna watch a movie or something?” He asked.

“Oh yeah! I have Netflix but only on my tv in my room. This tv is kinda- old” you chuckle “it doesn’t get all the fancy stuff like that only a few channels” you said.

“I’m fine with that, if you are. Can’t say I’m not gonna try and cuddle you” he said the words coming out sweetly.

“I’d be a little sad if you didn’t wanna cuddle while we lay in my bed” you teased walking towards the stairs leaving Chan in the chair a bit surprised. “Last one up the stairs is an old man” you said sticking your tongue out as you bolted up the stairs.

“Hey you little brat!” He said laughing “you just wait!” He chanced you up the stairs as you got to the top you felt his warm arms come around you making you squeal. He picked you up twirling you around before playfully tossing you on the bed. “Old man huh? You sound like the boys” he said with another laugh. God that laugh, if that’s all you could hear the rest of your life you’d be happy. His laugh was like a warm cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter day. So warm, so comforting. But that was Chan honestly. You’ve never felt this comfortable so fast with someone it was like you knew each other for years. Like an old married couple.

“Well If it’s more than one person maybe we are right” you teased. He shook his head rolling his eyes with that big smile. “You gonna come cuddle me or just stand there looking cute?” You said. The confidence you felt all of a sudden was definitely a surprise to both of you.

“Don’t know, I don’t think I heard a please” he said sticking his tongue out at you like you had to him earlier.

You rolled your eyes “ah I see” you said making him tilt his head a bit “someone likes begging” you said as you started to giggle.

He picked up the pillow you had thrown at him early smacking you with it. He jumped on the bed pinning you under him before tickling your sides. You laughed uncontrollably squirming under him “better watch the mouth of yours it’s gonna get you in trouble one of these days” he says in a teasing tone. He couldn’t deny having you laughing like this was making his heart swell, but having you under him- was making something else swell.

Once he stopped tickling you his eyes locked on yours something came over him. His eyes darting to your lips and as if you read his mind you smiled “if you want to kiss me then do it” you said eyes looking straight at him with a glint in them. And he did. He did just that leaning down lips crashing into yours. His hand came up to Caress your cheek deepening the kiss. He tasted like mint with a hint of chocolate from a cookie your mom had given to him before leaving this morning. He smelled so good too, like firewood and cologne. Your eyelashes fluttered feeling him becoming hard on top of you. His hips slightly rutting against you as he deepened the kiss. He wasn’t even aware he was moving but he could definitely feel himself getting hornier by the minute.

He leaned to your neck almost moaning when you gave him full access. He nipped at your neck kissing it sloppily fuck did he wanna mark you. He wanted to dig his teeth into every inch of you but he wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable with it. Especially having everything so new so he decided to suck. Suck those purple and red marks on your neck. The whimpers you let out made him smirk against your skin. He started to rut his hip more into you, his fully hard cock painfully trapped in his pants.

The smell of your arousal hasn’t even hit him yet. Not until you bucked your hips back to his snapping him out of the trance he was in. “Y/n-“ he said pulling away to look at you. Big mistake. The lustful expression on your face was enough to drive him crazy. However fighting everything in him he looked over you for your consent. “Fuck Chan I want you so badly but- but you think it’s a good idea to do it here?”

Dammit.

You were right, to both of your displeasures you were right. If he fucked you here especially for the first time- and if your parents came home? “Dammit” he said frustrated. He looked down at you as you pouted a bit “m’sorry” you said softly. He shook his head before placing a soft kiss to your lips. “Don’t be sorry love, you’re right. As much as I want to. Once I start I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself.” He admitted.

“Is everyone at the house?” You asked tilting your head a bit. “Yeah they- wait. I forgot we have a cabin too. It’s just up the road a bit from the house!” He said his words coming out more excited than he meant to. “Wanna uhm go there?” You said. He grinned seeing you get a bit shy. “You want me that bad?” He teased.

Your heart was pounding not knowing what was coming over you, you felt shy, small even. Looking up at him with nervous eyes his gaze meeting yours. The smell of you was getting more intense it was different from before though. Something in him was telling him that he needed to take you. Needed you more than ever, his mate his love. He stood up quickly taking your hand as he basically pulled you behind him. He grabbed the bags at the door throwing them in the car. “Tell your dad that we left early but will stop by tomorrow!” He said closing your door as you sat down.

The glint in his eyes was different, especially as your smell circled in the car making his head dizzy. He drove like a mad man to that cabin. He took your hand pulling you to the cabin as soon as he had that door shut behind you he became some animal. He kissed you hungrily grinding his body against yours his hands not so gently pulling your dress up. “Y/n- fuck. It’s like you’re in heat or something. Your smell is just- just making me lose control” he said lips nibbling against your neck.

You held onto his arms, his big muscular arms. He almost ripped the panties you had on while trying to take them off. His warm hands came down to your clit lightly playing with it. “Y/n. I want to make it clear. If I do anything to make you uncomfortable tell me.” He said making sure to keep eye contact with you. “I need you to use your words at all times so I know you’re ok got it?” He said. You nodded eyes staring back at his “ok.” And with that ok he was gone he kissed his way down your neck taking your straps off your shoulder as he did.

He watched as your dress fell to the floor leaving you completely naked in-front of him. You moved your hands blocking to cover your body on instinct. He quickly let out a low growl “no hiding. No hiding that beautiful body. Fuck” he said moving quickly lips attaching to your nipples. “This beautiful body that’s all mine” he said nibbling at your nipples. You groaned in response rubbing your hips together for some kinda relief. He smirks against your skin before he starts kissing down your body. He nips at the skin a bit getting to your already soaking cunt.

He can feel saliva pulling in his mouth. He made it a mission just then to make you cum at least once on his tongue before fucking you. He needed to taste everything you had. Then something clicked a little. He wanted to be first. He had to be first. The first one to see anything of you. To hear you to taste you everything before anyone in the pack could even imagine it. He dove headfirst into the pool of your cunt. Lapping his tongue long against your folds flicking it perfectly at your clit. He brought his big hands to hold around your thighs keeping you spread for him.

“Chan!” You moaned out gripping his hair tightly. Your body shuddered as you looked down at him. Eyes hazy, as he sucked your clit so effortlessly pulling moans from you. He freed one hand bringing it up to rub it against your folds before pushing his fingers into you. He needed to make sure you could take him. Take his full length, his full knot in you. He pumped his fingers in and out the noises filing the air. Your body moved on its own out of pleasure as you started to grind against his tongue making him moan. He dug his nails into your thighs the small sting making you whimper.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel good, that you didn’t like the slight pain of it. Fuck. At this rate you’d be cumming in record time. “Chan- please- I’m close! So fucking close!” You said as your hands gripped at his shoulders for some support. You felt like you were floating away, the only thing holding you here was him. His fingers picked up the pace pushing deep into. He nipped at the inner of your thigh the bit of pain making you clench around him. He let out another low groan realizing you liked it. He quickly sunk his sharp teeth into your leg blood flooding his mouth.

“F- fuck!” Is all you could cry out as you felt yourself fading away into bliss. You came hard around his fingers moaning loudly as he lapped at the bite mark. He sucked his fingers clean before licking all your juices. The taste of you sending wave of need up his spine. You tasted heavily, like sweet homemade cookies, something he sure would be addicted to. He kissed his way up to you taking his pants off as he did. His cock was so painfully hard, the tip red dripping with pre cum. His eyes were hooded glossed over as he leaned into your lips.

He aligned his length to your entrance before pushing in slowly. As much as he wanted to fuck you hard. Wanted to make you cry his name over and over he needed to take it slow at first. His cock inches its way into your warm walls settling so perfect like it was made to be there. He looked over your face for some reassurance before he started moving. You nodded slightly knowing what he was waiting for before you could even blink he was pounding into you. He fucked up into at such an angel hitting your walls and every sensitive spot it could.

He crashed his lips into your biting your bottom lip before pulling away again. His speed was no joke he was like a rabbit. You felt your legs becoming like jelly, feeling weak and wobbly. He wrapped them around him carrying you to the bedroom where he placed you on all fours. The new angle had you seeing stars and maybe even god himself. He was hitting your g-spot so perfectly, hands gripping harshly at your hips as he dug his nails into them.

“My perfect mate- fuck you were made for me.” He said moving his body to press against your back. His hand came down to play with your clit as the sound of his balls slapping you filled the air. “Made to take my cock. Made to take my knot. You. Are. Mine.” He said punctuating those words with a harder thrust each time. You almost screamed out in pleasure “all yours- I’m all yours alpha!”

The sound of you calling him alpha made his mind skip. It went blank but I was flooded with so much. Without thinking he bit harshly at your shoulder sinking in as he marked you as his. This mark being a permanent reminder that you belonged to him. That he was your alpha.

“Shit! Shit! Cu-cumming!” You screamed body falling on the bed as Chan fucked into you harder and harder deeper and deeper. “Yeah that’s it cum on my cock, cum on your alphas cock. Such a good little omega. My good little omega” he said. The sounds he was letting out as he chased his high were almost pornagraphic. They were gutterle low groans mixed with whimpers of pleaser. “Gonna take my knot? Gonna let me stuff you full? Hmm my pretty omega.” He groaned.

“Yes fuck- I want your knot please alpha!” You managed to choke out as he pumped a few more times into you before pushing his knot into your abused wet hole. You felt his ball twitch as he came so deep in you. Your legs shook as another orgasm washed over you at the feeling. Fuck you’d never wanna feel anything else. The way he felt so deep in you, so full of all of him. His arms wrapped around you as he rutted himself into you. “Mine” he kept saying softly. His head laid on your back leaving kisses everywhere.

You both just laid there catching your breaths before his phone rang. “Everything done. Come home. Please come home. I wanna see her. Please channie!” The voice on the other line whined. Chan was still trying to catch his breath a bit as he spoke “alright lix I’ll be there soon ok?” Chan responded before turned to you. “Think you can walk” he teased. “Probably, think you can pull out?” You teased back making you both laugh. “Yeah I could for a bit now” he said before kissing your cheek. “Seriously!” You said playfully smacking him.

“Hey hey! That’s abuse!” He joked before pulling you into a sweet kiss. “Let’s get cleaned up so you can meet the rest of your mates” he said with a grin. You smiled “I can’t wait!”

—🐾—

After getting cleaned up and making sure you both rehydrated Chan drove down the road a bit to the house. It was beautiful old ranch house huge, with a lot of land. A swimming pull out back, plenty of room for a garden. A swing set sat on one side and a crabapple tree on the other. You couldn’t believe how big this place was. “This was a rough house when I first got it but I fixer up pretty good” Chan said with a proud smile. When you pulled in you could see bright sunshine eyes staring at the car.

Chan got out first as the hoard ran to you “be gentle you maniacs” he said. He opened your door letting you step out. They all smiled at you Felix piping up first “can I hug you!” He said with a big lip out and how on earth would you ever be able to say no to that? “Of course” you said softly and hes already tackling you. His arms wrapped around your body pulling you into a hug. He smelled like chocolate and a hint of vanilla. “You’re even more beautiful than I remember” he said looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. Ugh your heart, he was so fucking cute. He could get away with murder with that look.

Your face went red before you could say thank you another man approached “I see why you weren’t here” he said looking at the fresh marking on your neck. “Hush” Chan said with a grin. “I’m Minho by the way” the man said with a smile. He pointed at everyone having them introduce themselves before Felix dragged you into the kitchen. “Dinner should be ready soon” he said clinging to your arm. “We made your favorite, if it suckers Minho made it” someone said behind you making you laugh. It was seungmin he stood at the door way leaning against it.

“Lix why don’t you show her, her room” Chan suggested making Felix’s face light up. “I’m coming too!” Changbin said rushing behind you both taking hold of your other arm. They pulled you through the pretty house, looking around it made you wonder. Who decorated in here? It was so nice? Not what most men’s houses would be. Looked like something straight from a magazine. Everything methodically put together and situated perfectly. “Yall got an interior designer or something?” You asked.

“Hm? Oh the house? Hyunjin really likes that kinda stuff. He’s good at it ain’t he” Changbin said with a smile. When you nod he continues “tell him it’ll make him really happy” he said. These men and their pretty smiles are gonna drive you crazy. “Close your eyes” Felix said. When you did you heard the door squeak open. “Ok ok open!” He said with a wide smile. You were met with a beautiful styled gothic almost room with plushies decorating it. There were candles, a computer, books and pictures of you and your family.

Your heart swelled at the look of it feeling tear almost well up “do you love it!” Felix said coming up to look at you. “Wait don’t cry!” He said taking your face into your hands, he softly wiped away the tears that dared to come out. “Ah it’s just really sweet of you all to do this. Makes me feel.. really care for” you said.

A pair of arms wrapped around you feeling a warm body press against your back hugging you tightly “you are really cared for, we’re here to spoil you pretty” Changbin said resting his head on your shoulder. Your face heated up making Felix giggle “you got her blushing” he said in a teasing tone. “You’re just jealous he’s hugging me and you’re not” you said sticking your tongue out. Felix chuckled before all but tackling you again laying his head in between your breast. He looked up at you with a grin “you smell so good. You sure your mom didn’t just bake you?” He said cheesily.

You rolled your eyes smiling down at him “says the one with little chocolate chip freckles” you said. His face turned pink in an instant burring his face into your chest to hide. “Seriously how am I gonna survive with you all?” You said with a light chuckle “to many pretty men”

Changbin squeezed you tightly “ooh she thinks we are pretty” he almost purred into your neck. “Dinners ready!” You heard Minho yell from down the hall. Changbin picked you up twirling you around making Felix drop you. “Last one there has to sit beside Minho” he said before letting you go and sprinting down the hallway. Lix and you both started laughing “he’s something” Felix said interlocking his hand with yours. “You really like the room though?” He asked. You nod smiling at him “I love it”

Hyunjin was standing at the door smiling as he saw you “oh Hyunjin! I wanted to tell you the house is really pretty. You’re really good at design.” You complimented him. His face lit up cheeks turning red “I-uh thank you” he stuttered out. “Assess in chairs before jeongin scarfs everything” Minho said. Chan smiled taking your hand having you sit beside him. “Alright you gremlins dig in” Minho said before making his plate. He watched you as made your plate taking a bite. Your eyes looked over at him looking like a deer in headlights almost. “Well?” He said staring intently. “Delicious” you said with a smile.

He smiled back smugly “of course it is I made it” he teased as he ate. The room was quiet as everyone ate. After filling up it, the tiredness hit you. You yawned rubbing your eyes softly “someone’s sleepy” Felix said. Chan nodded “she didn’t sleep well” he said as he rubbed your back. “Sure it’s not from your fun you two had?” Seungmin said making everyone laugh. He rolled his eyes “could be that too” he said smugly.

“It is late too, why don’t we clean up and snuggle on the couch? We all can watch a movie or something.” Chan suggested everyone’s eyes lighting up. “I call sitting beside y/n!” Jisung said first time you heard from him today. Chan did mention he was a bit shy especially around new people so hearing him say it made you happy.

As everyone got up taking their plates to the sink they ran to get blankets and everything to make it comfortable. You put the plate in the sink while Minho loaded the dishwasher “want help?” You asked. He looked at you trying not to smile. “No.” He said bluntly. “Go join the others” he said putting more dishes in. As you walked away he thought you listened but here you come back with the rest of the plates from the table. “I told you“ he said but you cut him off “yeah yeah here’s the rest of the dishes” you said playfully sitting them on the counter.

He chuckled a bit looking at you “such a little brat hmm?” He said in a humming tone. “Just like helping” you said patting his back softly “thank you by the way. Dinner was really really good” you said smiling. Ooh that smile the way you complimented him his heart was pounding. You were so pretty. Making him blush a bit “An-y time” he said focusing back to his dishes trying to hide his face. You made your way to the living room seeing all the blankets on the floor. They made such a big pile with pillows everywhere, the cushions from the couch on the floor as well.

“Y/n let’s goo” Seungmin whined. You rolled your eyes making your way to the pile taking your seat beside Chan and Jisung. To your surprise the other members were cuddled up to each other. No fragile masculinity here. Felix had his head laid on Changbins leg, seungmin and Jeongin leaning against the couch. Hyunjin took his place in Changbins other leg. They were about to press start Jisung interlocking his arms with yours. Chan had his arm around your waist pulling you a bit closer. Jisung whined at the movement “hey I called sitting with her” he huffed making Chan chuckle “sorry sorry”

As they went to press play you stopped them “wait Minho isn’t in here we can’t start” you said looking over at the kitchen. “It’s ok pretty, he’ll be in” Felix said looking over at you with a smile. You pouted though making them all coo. “We can’t start if everyone not here, that not fair.” You said crossing your arms. So they waited. Anything to make sure you were happy. As Minho walked in he was surprised “yeah didn’t start it?” He asked.

Chan shook his head “y/n wanted everyone in the room before we started” he said with a smile. Of course you did. Of course you were this sweet caring person who even cared about him. He cleared his throat looking over at you “well I’m here” he said looking where to sit. “You can sit here” you said patting the space between your legs. Were you trying to kill him? Seriously. He made his way to you taking his seat between your thighs leaning back slightly. As the movie started you started to run your hands against Minhos back. It sent shivers up his back the touch feeling so light.

Chan smiled to himself, it felt like you belonged here. Like you’ve always have been apart of their family. You just meshed so well with them it made his heart so full. You leaned your head against Chan his hand coming up behind to play with your hair. That’s it you were out. As soon as he started to play with your hair your body became pudding melting into him. Falling asleep fast your arms held onto Minho wrapping your arms around his waist pulling him into you to cuddle. He let out a little huff but leaned into your touch. You were so warm so comforting.

Han was cuddled up to you as well, his arms wrapped around your arm head resting on your shoulder. You both were out like a light, so was half the room except Minho and Chan. Chan took the opportunity to talk to Minho “what do you think?” Chan said nudging him softly. “I think this is too good to be true” he said eyes focused on the screen. Chan chuckled softly trying not to wake you up. “It feels so right though doesn’t it?” Minho nodded in response. “Yeah, to right?” He said sounding like a question.

Minho ended up nodding off shortly after talking, fully leaning into you as he drifted to sleep. Chan took a mental picture of this moment. If he died today he’d die happy.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

series Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @stayconnecteed @minniesverse @ldysmfrst @jehhskz @lunearta @hello-stranger24 @justastraymoa @hyun-prince @catlove83 @lunearta @iknow-uknow-leeknow @chocolateislife @doitforbangchan @kkamismom12 @minghaosimp @dessianna1 @fiestaplum-skz @jeonginsleftcheek @queen-in-the-shadows @manuosorioh @tsunderelino @aalexyuuuhm

[thatsdemko]

the culer- j.bellingham

masterlist | pairing: Jude Bellingham x gavi!fem!reader. summary: with the pressure of the match at hand, Jude makes an error that’ll cost him. warnings: fluff + angst + the following events in this fic are completely fictional and are not based on real life events. a/n: I dislike Real Madrid but I love Jude because he played for Borussia Dortmund.. he’ll always have a place in my heart I fear

It’s not like the words “Pablo gavis sister” were plastered against your forehead, so how was he supposed to know? it wasn’t the worst thing to happen to him, but it certainly wasn’t best when he rounded the corner and hear your soft laugh ring his ears. it was even ten times worse when his breakfast threatened to come up seeing your brothers arm around your shoulders.

you’re squished in between culers, your brothers jersey clung tight against your chest that serves as a major distraction to him. yet, he can’t actually see you. glimpses of you from the tunnel replay in his mind, the ball against his feet should be in the back of the net right now, but he’s stalling.

if he scores, your brother and his team lose. why does it matter to him anyway? this should be an exciting moment here in Barcelona with the crowd booing his name and boosting his adrenaline, so why does he care so much about you?

you’d never had more than just sex. an occasional cuddle and maybe a late night movie cozied up in his bed, but that was it. so you’re unsure why he’s playing with the ball when he’s got a 90% chance of scoring.

“just shoot the damn ball, Jude.” you mutter to yourself. the quicker he gets this over, the sooner the dread and anxiety bubbling in your stomach will fizzle out, and the sooner this is over the better chances your brother or his teammate have in evening the score.

yet there he still stands, unable to decide to shoot or to pass and the crowd wasn’t having it. Jude was usually so quick with his mind, football came easy yet this shot was the hardest one. he knows if he shoots this into the back of the net all chances with you end tonight on this pitch. he knows if he passes, all chances of his team advancing into the next round, end here.

why did it have to be him to decide the fate?

as if on cue, pablo takes the stab. he pulls Jude from his mind games, and decides to end the misery for himself and the crowd. Jude didn’t have much of a reaction time, in fact, he didn’t even put up a fight as the ball was swept from his feet.

“what the fuck man?!” his teammates shout frustrated in his inability to play the damn game.

your nails dig into your palms, watching your brother and his teammate play keep away from the Real Madrid defenders before taking the shot on net and ending the tie once in for all.

Real Madrid lost and wouldn’t advance to the next round.

a smile couldn’t form to your lips. watching Jude’s head hang low, you feel guilty. knowing he’d been riding the highs of the past couple of wins, he should be proud of the fight the team put up today. but those three minutes of torture would haunt him for the rest of his career for every time he saw you.

you.

his head picks up, eyes scanning the mass of fans the sea of red and blue all mesh together. faces booing and others cheering become a blur, but he’s sure you’re out there celebrating. you always expressed how important family was to you, and he was sure your family couldn’t of been happier.

—

you shouldn’t be here. not this late. the match ended hours ago and Jude most likely wasn’t even home yet, but it didn’t stop you from pounding your knuckles against the wood door in hopes he was there. you’re the last person he probably ever wants to chat with, but you needed to check on him. you needed to make sure he wasn’t beating himself up.

you hear the lock click, the door slowly creeps open revealing his dark brown eyes scanning your body. you’d changed into sweatpants in a sweatshirt, a more casual fit than what you were used to wearing to see Jude.

“what are you doing here this late?” his posh accent floods your eardrums, your heart can’t help but thump faster as you move closer to the small crack of the door to find any signs of concern across his face.

“I came to see you.”

“I don’t want to see you.” his bitter words make your heart come to a screeching halt. it’s just the game, you tell yourself, he doesn’t mean these words he’s clearly just upset.

“you played well, ba—Jude. please don’t beat yourself up.”

the door opens up more, like he couldn’t resist. seeing your concern for him mixed his feelings about you. at first, he was done with you. said it was for the best to move on, but seeing you here? with your doe-like brown eyes staring into his, he couldn’t resist.

“I’m the laughingstock of the team now. all because I couldn’t shoot the damn ball.”

“why didn’t you?” the words come rolling off your tongue before you can even process. you’d been asking yourself the question ever since the game ended. why didn’t he just shoot the damn ball? what was stopping him? you couldn’t press the questions in your mind any further when you knew what was stopping him: you. its silly and cliche but it’s the truest that’s been gnawing at him. you were the reason he couldn’t bare to see his own rivals lose.

“I don’t want to discuss this.” his shoulders slumped. he hardly notices you’d pushed the door further and allowed yourself in. he knew your care taking tendencies couldn’t bare to see him this down.

“come on,” you guide him into his bedroom, the curtains are drawn and a Spanish soap-opera plays quietly in the corner of his room. you crawl into his bed and allow him to rest against your body. your nails rake across his skin, careful not to put too much pressure on the black forming bruises.

“you really shouldn’t be here.” he mumbles feeling his shoulders and body sink further into the depths of touch. he hates himself for this, he knows he shouldn’t be falling at the hands of his rivals sister, but yet he can’t stop himself.

“I know,” you say peppering kisses to his throbbing temple, like you knew there was too much pressure there, “I’ll deal with that tomorrow, right now I’m here to deal with you.”

“you’re the better gavi, did you know that?” Jude lifts his gaze to meet yours, your lips briefly touch enough to ghost his.

“I did know that actually.”

he may have lost the game, but one things for sure, he didn’t lose you.

[sirjaketkiszka]

Jake Kiszka One Shot: Jealous

Hardly ever did Jake get jealous. But when he did, nothing good ever came from it.

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Jake x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,127

Warnings: 18+!!, sexual content, unprotected sex, fast-paced, quickie, cursing, dirty talk, jealous!Jake, toxic!Jake, fingering, choking, hair pulling, creampie, multiple orgasms, hickeys, and, of course, mediocre writing.

(Please don’t hesitate to tell me if I missed any warnings.)

Disclaimer: apologies for any potential spelling errors or grammar mistakes.

Jake Kiszka One Shot Masterpost

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The murmured sounds of rumbling and low conversation pique my anxiety as I look around the venue; more seats are being taken and the pit is nearly full with the opener just finishing their set and leaving the stage, but the man in front of me doesn’t seem to care.

“What do you do?” The security guard asks, pointing at my backstage pass, “Are you a photographer?”

“Not exactly, no.” My voice is raised, my ears still ringing from the opener’s set.

“So, what then?” He pushes, but I’m not entirely keen on the idea of admitting that I know the band very personally, “Do you know them?” He questions, pointing at the curtain being hoisted up behind him. I really should leave, but my feet stay planted and I maintain a polite smile on my face.

“You could say that,” I respond, leaning closer to him, and trying to keep my voice down.

“No way,” He huffs out a laugh, “Really?”

Slowly nodding, I nervously look around, making sure no one is listening in on our conversation. The fans talk among themselves with excited smiles plastered on their faces, and their hands fidgeting with handmade signs. A personalized playlist fades into the arena’s speakers, signaling that the concert is starting soon.

Show days meant that my anxiety was through the roof, and with the security guard holding me up, I wasn’t entirely in the mood for small talk. Usually, I’d be set up in Jake’s greenroom, waiting for the show to start, but I decided to watch the openers. What a mistake that was.

In the corner of my eye, I recognize Jake’s silhouette, lurking by the backstage entrance. I’m unable to make out the look on his face, but his overall presence is exuding something I can’t quite place, and it makes a shiver travel down my spine. When he notices that I’ve been made aware of his appearance, he steps away, disappearing into the backstage halls. Naturally, my body gravitates toward him, and my feet carry me in his direction.

“I’m sorry– I have to go,” I say, not bothering to exchange any departing words. The security guard’s voice fades out of earshot as I round the stage, entering the bright hallway and exiting the noisy arena.

With showtime in nearly thirty minutes, and the remaining crowd steadily filing their way into the arena, I have to rush to find Jake, wanting to wish him luck. Weaving through multiple stagehands and the backstage crew, I bust through Jake’s greenroom door, not bothering to knock.

“Jake,” I announce my presence with an exasperated huff, “I’m sorry I took so long– the security guard held me up, but I’m here now.” Closing the door behind me, I walk up to him, his back to me as he sits in the vanity chair, facing the mirror. His blank stare is piercing in the mirror, and he doesn’t respond, “Jake? Are you okay?” I question, stopping behind him as my hands rest on his shoulders.

Still, he doesn’t answer, and his shoulders are taut and alarmingly warm under my grip. Instead, he stares at me with eyes I cannot read, and rises from his chair. When he turns around to face me, my arms fall to my sides, and my eyes search him for any clues of negative body language. His stature is tense; deep breaths cause his stiff shoulders to rise, and his hands flex at his sides.

“Were you flirting with him?” Jake finally speaks, his voice remaining eerily calm, but his irrational question surprises me.

“I’m sorry?” I ask, my brow quirking in confusion as my hands rest on my hips.

“I bet you are,” He scoffs, unintentionally mimicking my pose.

“What are you talking about? I was talking to the venue security, I told you this,” I explain, trying to keep my voice level, attempting to keep the situation from escalating. Hardly ever did Jake get jealous, but when he did, nothing good ever came from it, “You saw it.”

“Yeah, and you looked awfully happy doing it,” He bites back, his tone harsh with arrogant sarcasm braiding between his words.

“Can we talk about this later? You have a show in half an hour,” I try reasoning with him, not wanting to start a fight right before he’s supposed to go on stage, but the look in his eyes takes my request as a challenge.

“So you were,” He huffs out a laugh, as if he can’t believe I admitted such a thing, but I didn’t.

“Jake, I’m not doing this with you, not right now,” I say, rolling my eyes and turning to walk away, but his hand is quick to grip my bicep, halting my movements. Looking at his hand, then at him, my mouth falls open for a moment, taken aback, “Are you serious?”

“Doesn’t he know who you belong to?” He says through bared teeth.

“Belong to?” My voice can’t help but grow louder as heat spreads across my cheeks and creeps up my neck from his inconceivable question.

“Do I need to show you?” He asks, pulling me into him, turning around, and repositioning me so that my back is to him. Pushing me toward the vanity, my hands brace themselves on the flat surface. In the reflection of the mirror, I see Jake staring at me with darkened eyes, a satisfied smirk ghosting over his lips. “How about I remind you, hm?” His eyes travel down my backside, letting his hands roam my silhouette and eventually resting on my waist.

“What are you–” I want to ask him what he’s doing, but he grounds his hips against my ass, making my back arch against him when I feel his restricted bulge. Keeping my eyes on him through the mirror, he grins at my reaction and my obedience to stop talking.

“Don’t you want that?” He asks with a taunting tone, leaning over to press a kiss to my clothed shoulder, eyes stuck on mine. Despite his jealous rage, I know his question is asking for permission, and I gladly grant it.

“Yes,” I rush out in a hushed voice, my hips slightly grinding against him.

“Good,” He mutters against my shoulder before quickly pulling back, his hands gripping the bottom hem of my shirt. In one swift movement, he lifts the shirt off of me, making me raise my arms over my head in the process. Watching my reflection in the mirror, I’m left in my bra and skirt, my hair falling back into place while he discards my shirt, and my hands place themselves back on the vanity.

When his eyes return to me, his gaze is fixed on my chest, my breasts constricting against the cups of my bra with every heavy breath I take. Grinding his hips into me, I feel his growing erection through the tight fabric of his black jeans, causing me to let out a breathy sigh, “We don’t have time.” I note, remembering the tight schedule.

“Don’t care,” He mutters, placing his soft lips against my bare shoulder. Peppering kisses along the exposed skin, he moves toward my neck, nibbling in various places on the short journey there. His left hand comes up to brush my hair away from my neck while the right rests just above the waistband of my mini skirt. Tilting my head for him, he leaves open-mouth kisses along the side of my neck, sucking every so often and causing my eyes to flutter close, “Keep them open.” His husky voice vibrates against my skin, and my eyes shoot open.

Watching him, he goes back to kissing my neck while his other hand toys with the elastic waistband of my skirt. Skimming just beneath the fabric, his fingers plunge into my underwear, making me gasp at the sudden intrusion. The mixed sensation of him sucking on my sensitive skin and fingers against my cunt cause my mind to haze, and I arch further against him, my head resting against his shoulder.

Stopping his actions on my neck, he looks at me through the reflection as he runs his fingers along my soaking cunt. Spreading the wetness, his fingers effortlessly find my aching clit, and he applies pressure before moving in slow, thorough circles.

“Wet already?” He teases, watching as my eyebrows scrunch in pleasure as his fingers work against me, “Don’t tell me this was for him.” He tilts his head, referring to the security guard, his brows furrowing in displeasure.

“No, Jake,” I frantically shake my head, and his hand previously holding my hair snakes around to the front of my throat, gripping slightly.

“Who made you this wet then?” He asks, his lips pressing against my earlobe.

“You,” I gasp out, his fingers working faster against my swollen clit, “Only you.”

“Who?” He pushes, his fingers pressing into my neck, but not restricting my airway.

“Jake,” I moan out his name, my eyes threatening to close as heat pools in my lower belly, the warm sensation spreading through my limbs. My knees nearly give out as he glides his fingers lower to my entrance, easily slipping his middle finger in, then his ring finger. Groaning, my walls stretch around the two digits, eagerly welcoming him as he slowly pumps them.

“How’s that feel?” He grunts directly into my ear, his grip still around my neck.

“So good,” I whine as he quickens the pace, his fingers effortlessly sliding in and out of me. Moving quickly, he curls his fingers just right, causing the pads of them to brush against my G-spot with every pump. The tips of my fingers dig into the solid surface beneath them, making them turn white from the pressure. “Fuck, Jake, that feels so good.” I moan out, my eyes closing as my eyebrows scrunch.

“Look at me,” He says harshly, his fingers on my neck pulsing, catching my attention. Opening my eyes, I do my best to maintain eye contact, but his piercing glare makes me self-conscious, “I want to watch your face while you come on my fingers.” He states, halting the pumping motion of his fingers, and instead rapidly pressing against my g-spot.

“Oh, fuck!” I cry out, my mouth hanging open as a string of high-pitched moans escape my hoarse throat. The vigorous, and constant appliance of pressure causes my orgasm to hit quickly, making my knees shake uncontrollably and my hips writhe against his open palm.

“Look at you,” He whispers, his fingers still working against the spongey flesh. My walls spasm against his fingers, squeezing the digits every time he flexes them, making him grin. As my stomach flexes with every aftershock of my climax, my moans morph into heavy pants, my chest heaving and lips drying from quickened breaths. My eyes leave him, and I look at myself; strands of hair stick to my damp temples, and my cheeks are flushed with eyes glazed over and my neck sporting darkened hues of purple and red.

Before I can speak, he removes his hand from my skirt, causing my hips to jerk at the sudden movement and a gasp to enter my lungs at the lack of touch. Working against time, his other hand releases my neck and works with the other to lift my skirt, the stretchy fabric bunching at my waist. Without a word, his hands grip my waist, pulling me back and making me bend over further while keeping my hands against the vanity’s surface.

A groan catches in his throat when a hand comes down to pull my underwear to the side, exposing my glistening cunt. “Do you know who you belong to?” He asks, eyes finding mine in the mirror as he undoes his jeans, pulling them down just enough to reveal his growing bulge; still restricted in his boxers.

Feeling defiant, I slowly shake my head as I bite back a grin, my lower lip catching between my teeth. My face falls when I see his demeanor change, irritation and dominance physically emanating from his body, and his breathing visibly grows rapidly.

“Wrong answer,” He growls, swiftly lowering the waistband of his boxers, and thrusting his erection into my soaking cunt. With little resistance, he bottoms out, his hips flush against my ass. He lets out a grunt as I suck in a sharp gasp, the dull pain diminishing almost immediately.

“Jake!” I choke out his name as my head throws itself back, my arms nearly giving out against the force of his hips. The residing waves of my previous orgasm squeeze around his cock, making him hold back a groan.

“That’s more like it,” He says through gritted teeth, restraint keeping him still. A beat passes before he pulls his hips back, then pushes back in; a motion he repeats a few times before finding a steady rhythm. We let out correlating breaths with every thrust, his hands grasping at my hips, guiding me onto him. “Whose are you?” He asks, his voice straining.

“Yours,” I moan out, my eyes threatening to close again.

“Keep watching,” He grunts out, tightening his grip on my hips. “Watch me fuck you.”

Keeping my eyes open, they soak in Jake’s appearance; strands of hair stick to his neck, his lips parted to allow grunts to push past them, the hills of his cheeks a dark shade of pink, and yet, he’s still fully clothed, his jeans open just enough and sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. His eyebrows scrunch in concentration as he maintains the same speed, occasionally licking his lips, his bottom teeth catching on the plump flesh when doing so.

While my eyes rake him in, his eyes stay fixed on mine, his eyelids hooded with lust. His thrusts slow gradually into a steady, thorough rhythm, his hips rolling into me and the head of his cock prodding in all the right places. My quick pants melt into drawn-out whines as he pulls back and steadily pushes back in, making sure to pause each time he bottoms out.

“Say you’re mine,” He whispers, his hips stalling, stopping all movement.

“I’m yours,” I huff out, my hips instinctively pushing back against him.

Pulling his hips back, he swiftly thrusts back in, my hands nearly sliding out from under me when he does, “Again.” He stops.

“I’m yours,” I moan out the words, earning a lazy grin from Jake.

“Good girl,” His simple praise causes a second climax to bloom in my gut, the feeling forming and unfolding, spreading tingles across my lower half and settling in my core. Satisfied with my answer, he picks up the pace again, starting slow but ultimately chasing his own release. My arms wobble beneath me, exerted by the force of Jake’s thrusts, and holding myself up. “Who gets to fuck you like this?” He grunts out, weariness tangled in his question.

“You do, Jake,” I whine, and just like my arms, my legs tremble.

“That’s right,” He sighs, his heavy breath falling over my bare shoulder as his hips smack into me harder, making me push back against him to avoid giving out beneath the force. I can tell he’s getting close, his eyes nearly shutting, and his pace becoming inconsistent. Like him, my orgasm is close to bubbling over, making my head hang as it’s near its peak, “Ah– Keep watching,” Jake removes a hand from my hip and gathers my hair, twisting it around his fist and tugging slightly, making me tilt my head up to look at him again through the reflection, “Look at yourself– Look at how I fuck you. No one else gets to fuck you like this.”

Nodding, my eyes wander over our bodies, his one hand planted snugly on my hip as his fingertips turn white from the strong grip. My hands slide along the surface of the vanity, finding themselves gripping the edge as Jake’s grip on my hair causes me to arch my back further. I’m nearly standing on my tip-toes as he pounds into me, my exasperated moans filling the small green room and surely audible from the hall.

“Repeat it.” Jake demands through tightly gritted teeth, the restraint being lost on him.

“No one else,” A gasp is pulled from me when he tugs on my hair, wanting me to finish the sentence, “No one else gets to fuck me like this.” I cry out, making sure to hold eye contact to show that I mean it, and that’s exactly what he’s aiming for.

“I’m gonna come in this pussy,” He voices, frustration and determination present in his tone, and I nod, my mind clouded with the thought of my own climax, “Tell me you want me to come in you.” He grits out, tightening his grip on my hair.

“I want you to come in me,” I repeat with a deprived whine, brows furrowing in pleasure when I feel that familiar sensation, making my knees shake, “Please, Jake.”

“Fuck,” He groans out, releasing my hair and planting his hand back on my hip. His rough fingers dig into the soft flesh as his climax hits; his hips jerk as he continues thrusting into me, spurts of hot cum coat my walls, and his tip twitches against my sensitive g-spot. Incoherent curses and groans exit his lips, his jaw slack as his eyebrows frown in focus.

Simultaneously, the feeling of his tip brushing against the spongey flesh prompts my second orgasm to erupt. My legs shake beneath me, struggling to carry the weight of myself as my pussy walls rapidly flutter around his cock. Mimicking his features, my mouth falls agape, allowing gasps and cries to flow from them, and my eyebrows pinch in concentration and pure pleasure. Releasing my grip on the vanity, I bend forward as my elbows catch my fall, making my body bend at a ninety-degree angle.

“My God,” Jake mumbles to himself, and I look back up into the mirror, catching him admiring my backside as the final pulses of our orgasms dissolve into dull aches. Letting go of my hips, his hands ghost the curves of my ass, and his eyes remain on the space where we’re still connected. Gently spreading me, he pulls back and pushes back in slowly, watching our releases drip out of me and coat his softening erection.

Our chests heave synchronously, our once-heavy breaths diffusing into quiet sighs and gentle huffs. When he pulls out completely, I let out a noise of protest, already feeling empty and absent from his touch. Feeling his cum leak out of me, my thighs absentmindedly rub together and the sensation makes me feel…

“So filthy,” Jake mutters, kneeling behind me to examine his work. Peering over my shoulder, I watch as his dark pupils consume the deep browns of his irises, making his eyes appear nearly black. Like he can’t help himself, his hands come up to spread the folds of my cunt, undoubtedly dripping with his release. He silently curses to himself as stands up, tucking himself back into his boxers and jeans, then replacing my underwear and pulling the bottom of my skirt down, stretching the elastic fabric over the curve of my hips and ass.

He firmly swats my ass, making me stand up straight and look at him in the mirror’s reflection. His eyes are watchful as he reaches a hand around me, gripping my jaw, and tilting my head in different directions. A small, accomplished smirk pulls at his lips when he sees the marks forming along my neck.

When he releases my chin, I turn to face him, his eyes boring into mine. “I should get cleaned up,” My voice is quiet as I smile at him, a stark contrast compared to the sounds exiting my lips just moments ago, “Showtime is soon,” I mention while stepping around him, noticing that he only has five minutes before he needs to be on stage.

“No,” He protests, grabbing my forearm and pulling me in front of him. Frowning at him, I wait for him to say anything else while I try not to focus on the uncomfortable feeling of his cum soaking the fabric of my underwear, “Don’t clean up.”

“But–” He cuts me off by placing his hands on the sides of my face, my eyes wide with avidity.

“I want you,” He whispers, placing a soft peck on my parted lips, the first kiss we’ve shared since I entered the room, “standing front and center,” He continues, placing another kiss, “letting my cum leak out of you,” Another kiss, “and I want to watch you squirm.” He concludes, not leaning in this time.

A small whimper catches in my throat at his request, and my thighs rub together once again; in arousal and in mild discomfort. His eyes flash to my lower half, and he smirks when he sees my physical reaction to his words.

“Consider it a reminder.” He states, his gaze piercing and warning, with a subtle harshness to his words. Moving his hands up and through my hair, he fixes any stray strands that might’ve been messed up from him pulling on them. For a moment, he pauses, his eyes full of admiration as he scans my features. Leaning in, he firmly kisses me, making us both let out a content sigh when our lips move together. My arms quickly wrap around his neck as I push back, deepening the kiss and craving more of him. However, as his tongue swipes my bottom lip, we hear two loud knocks at the door, making us halt our movements, “Showtime.” He whispers against my lips and pulls away with a wink.

Stepping away, he reaches down and grabs my shirt from the floor, helping me put it on before placing one last kiss on my lips and rushing for the door. Before following him, I turn to face the mirror and re-evaluate my appearance; hair slightly ruffled, neck littered with hickeys, face flushed, and pupils doubled in size. My hands attempt to brush down the stubborn strands and move them in a way that covers the hickeys to the best of their ability.

Huffing out a frustrated breath, I can’t allow myself to dwell on my fucked-out state as I rush out of the green room, following Jake’s previous path to the stage. The backstage hallway is buzzing with activity; various crew members and stagehands run up and down the halls, rushing to complete their tasks. I do my best to stay out of their way, hugging the wall closest to me as I push past the doors to the arena.

Immediately, I am met with the blaring sound of screaming fans, and I notice the curtain vigorously shaking. Rushing to the front, I stop just to my right of the stage, where Jake will be in just mere seconds. I find a spot that is out of the way of the busy photographers and avoids blocking the view of excited fans.

Just as I come to a stop, the curtain falls and the music overhead ends, prompting the entire arena to burst into a fit of yelling, whooping, and clapping. The floor beneath me reverberates, and the melodic sound of Jake’s guitar blasts through the amps, causing my pulse to quicken. When I see him, alongside his brothers, I’m reminded of the mess between my thighs and I instinctively squirm from the thought.

As if my life is a joke, the security guard from earlier is stationed just a little ways to my left, his eyes methodically scanning the crowd before him. For a fleeting moment, his eyes meet mine and they light up a little, though he’s unable to ignore his duties. And for that, I’m grateful.

Seconds pass before Jake is on the stage, directly in front of me, rocking his hips into his guitar. Taking in the crowd, his eyes move in a sweeping motion, his strumming unwavering as he interacts with the fans. My face falters when his eyes gravitate toward me, making my posture stiffen and my stomach twist.

Just like he wanted, his intense stare causes me to squirm again, and he smiles in response as he stomps away, making his rounds to the opposite side of the stage. My eyes follow him, but I’m distracted when the familiar face of the security guard is in my lower peripheral. Looking back at him, a confused frown is pulling at his features, and I notice his eyes skimming my exposed neck, my hair falling behind my shoulders as I peer up at the stage.

He forcefully peels his eyes away from me, continuing his observation of the crowd, but his frown remains. Oh well.

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I went into writing this very confidently then quickly lost motivation about halfway through. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed, much love!!

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[anama-cara]

fight club (dark!joel miller x f!reader; dead dove do not eat)

Summary: Post outbreak set in the Boston QZ. You decide to go against Joel in an underground QZ fight club for some extra coin. Joel doesn't take kindly to the competition and decides to punish you in his own special way. Word count: 3.6k

Warnings/tags: Dead Dove Do Not Eat. 18+ minors dni. Unprotected PIV, fingering (f receiving), slapping, choking, hair pulling, violence, blood, degradation, curse word, age gap, dark content, noncon, dubcon.   

a/n: This is the darkest one I’ve written so far so let me know what you think. Author is 18+ Written for #deaddovedecember2023 hosted by @romana-after-dark

You’ve had your fair share of blunders and brushes with death, but this has got to be one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done. But you’re desperate. Really freaking desperate. And desperate people throw out all caution and logic and good old fashioned common sense. So here you are, sweaty hair plastered to your forehead, heart racing, knuckles bloody. And you’re about to make another terrible mistake.

You’ve been in the Boston QZ for about 2 years now and every side hustle and grift you’ve tried has ultimately failed. One of your fellow con artists mentioned some back-alley action, an illegal underground fight club. So you follow his direction to the hideout, through an alley to the back of an abandoned building and down the stairs to the basement. You think the place must have been used for storage before, its mostly unfinished. It’s a large square room with low ceilings. All the furniture has been pushed to the sides of the room, leaving the center open. There’s a mob of people shouting and cheering, mostly large men but you spot a couple of females too. You recognize a few faces amongst the crowd as smugglers you’ve previously dealt with. There are a few lamps in the corners of the room but it’s still dimly lit. There’s a poker table pushed up against the wall, bottles of alcohol, and a caged rooster in the back. You guess this place does everything – speakeasy, gambling, cock fighting, and the ring.

There’s smoke in the air that burns your eyes and when you walk little clouds of dust follow in your footsteps. The smell of sweat, alcohol, and cigarettes engulfs your senses. The place is packed and noisy with swearing and shouting. You push through a throng of people to get to the bookie sitting on a high stool in the corner. She’s wearing a red and black flannel with black jeans and combat boots. She nods to you as you approach.

“Never seen you here, but if you’re here that means one of us trusted you enough let you in. Welcome. So, what can I do for you? Who ya bettin’ on?” She nods to the ring.

Ring is a generous term. Really it’s a cleared away area in the center of the room with a white circle on the floor drawn in chalk. There are two burly men inside fighting it out, fists flailing and blood flying. You notice that one has several teeth missing and cauliflower ear. He seems to be winning.

You turn back to her. “I’m not betting, I’m here to fight.”

She pauses to read your face and once she sees you’re serious she chuckles. She looks you up and down, taking in your skinny arms and round unscarred face. She holds out her hand. “The name’s Tess.”

You take her hand with a firm grip.

“Alright girl, you’re in. But I hope you know what you’re doing.” She gives you all the rules. Basically, you win if your opponent steps out of the ring or they don’t get up after a 10 second count. “I’ll be rootin’ for ya.” She says as you turn to leave. She sounds sincere.

You’re already starting to feel sick. Your stomach is turning, you’re so nauseous and the loud noises and metallic smell of blood isn’t helping. You go to a corner room, as far away as possible, and sit on a flipped over crate to wait. You’re wearing a loose t-shirt with your green cargo jacket overtop, black leggings, and your combat boots. You watch your swinging feet, trying to calm your nerves and not think about the sound of crunching bone you just heard. You wonder whose nose was just broken, Big Guy or Toothless.

As you’re sitting, zoning out, you feel someone walk up beside you. Your head snaps up.

“Hi there.”

Now this is a face you definitely don’t know. You’d remember him. He’s probably in his late 40’s, tall and broad shouldered with patchy facial hair, a strong nose and jaw line, and a pinched brow that makes it look like he’s permanently scowling. But there’s something in his dark brown eyes that catches your attention. It’s alluring and yet it makes you very uneasy. There’s a danger hidden there. He sits on the crate next to you with a sigh. He’s wearing jeans and a tight grey t-shirt that shows off his sculped chest and hugs his tanned biceps. That catches your attention too. You watch his muscles flex as he lowers himself onto the crate. Maybe you’re staring too long. He kicks you crate with a heavy boot.

“Hello?”

Even his voice is entrancing, gruff, dark, masculine, with a thick Texan accent. You blink and clear your throat. “Hi.” You say flatly. You try to appear confident and nonchalant, like you’re bored with this whole thing. Like you’re not scared shitless right now. You’re trying to convince yourself just as much as him.

“You come here often?” He asks and you can’t help but smile at the lame joke. His eyes move to your lips as you smile and his own form a wicked grin. It scares you. Your mouth falls back.

“Um no, this is my first time here. My first match in the ring.”

“You’re fighting?” He sounds equally surprised and impressed. His eyes light up and that predatory grin appears on his face again. “Little thing like you… going up against these grown men. You must be one tough little girl.”

You shift your weight, his words making you uncomfortable.

He quietly adds, “How I like ‘em. A fighter.”

Before you get a chance to respond there’s a roar of the crowd and you watch as they drag a body from the ring and prop him against the wall. You hope he’s just unconscious. You turn back to the stranger but he’s gone. The crowd quiets and you hear Tess call out, “Next round is against my partner Joel. Y’all know Joel. Any takers?”

You get to your feet. The crowd is too thick to see the opponent in the ring. But you don’t even care to see what he looks like first, no point sizing him up. You know all these fighters will be bigger and stronger than you. You have to do it now before you lose the small amount of courage you have left. You can’t sit still any longer.

“Here.” You call out. As you walk to the ring you tell yourself over and over again that they may have more muscle, but you rely on your speed and your skill.

You push through the circle of onlookers, most don’t even seem to notice you or bother to move out of the way. You’re too short to see over their heads so you raise your hand in the air and repeat, “here!” Finally they part. Faces look down at you as you pass and you can read the looks of disbelief and amusement in their eyes. You step over the line of chalk and face Tess. “I challenge,” you say in your most confident voice. Tess looks uncertain, even worried for you. Her throat bobs and she looks like she might say something, but instead she just nods. You turn to face your opponent. Oh shit, it’s the stranger. Joel. You know his name now. He’s giving you that horrible predatory grin again as he looks you up and down shamelessly. He’s so cocky it boils your blood.

“Well look who it is, Newbie.”

You snarl in response but he just laughs at you.

“Begin,” Tess announces.

You start circling each other, moving clockwise as you study each other’s movements, looking for the right time to pounce. You kick up dust as you slide your feet. Your boot catches on something sticky, dried blood. You push the thought from your mind, concentrating on watching Joel. You observe his muscles flexing, his balance, the length of his strides and his footwork. You can tell he’s strong, but he’s slower. You’ll use that to your advantage. During these brief moments of sizing each other up you’ve kept your own strengths hidden. You copied his pace, circling him just as slowly with deliberately timed steps. You want your real fighting style to remain a surprise. You want this fight over quickly, a few strong punches from him and you’d be lights out. You know you can’t overpower him and keep him down for a 10 count, so the only way is to trick him into stepping over the white line.

The crowd is getting impatient, their jeering getting louder and more vulgar as they scream at him to pummel you. With no warning, no tell, he lunges at you and lands a right hook into your jaw, rattling your brain. You dodge his incoming blow, ducking under his arm and side stepping past him. So maybe he’s not so slow after all, that’s okay, you’ll just be faster. Your jaw is aching and you taste blood in your mouth. You spit on the floor and Joel smiles. Just one punch and you’re already dizzy. He closes the gap in one step, towering above you with a vicious gleam in his eye. He does a jab cross combo and you manage to block both. As he’s pulling his fist back you land a hook right into his ribs lightning fast, then quickly pull your punch back and step back into your fighting stance with your guard raised. He looks a little surprised. You actually snuck a blow in. The crowd cheers and his surprise turns to anger. It chills your blood and weakens your knees but you stand your ground. Furious, he attacks you in a brutal volley, jab, cross, hook, elbow. He’s pummeling you with hit after hit and you’re moving swiftly, weaving under his fists as you step backwards, leading him closer to the edge of the ring. Your heel touches the chalk. He throws a powerful cross but he’s late on the recoil so you grab his wrist, leaning into his momentum and pulling his arm, swinging him to the right. He takes a single step to correct his balance. A single step that’s out of the circle.

You drop his wrist as the crowd erupts in shouts of approval at the surprise and swearing as bets are lost. You turn on your heel, not even bothering to look at Joel as you march up to Tess.

“Well color me impressed. If you come back again you could probably make a lot more ration cards. Everyone likes an underdog ya know.” Spectators flock to her, passing up cigarettes, pills, bullets, and food, you even spot a piece of gum. After a minute of tallying she hands you a stack of ration cards. You stuff them in your jacket pocket and nod farewell. This should tide you over for a while, at least until you find another smuggling job. Tess seems okay but you hope you never have to come back here.

You rush out of the hideout and exit into the alleyway where you lean up against the wall and breathe in deeply, relishing the fresh cool night air. You close your eyes for a moment and relax your head back against the cool concrete, letting your body calm down after all the adrenaline.

A hand wraps around your throat, squeezing and cutting off your air. Gasping, your eyes flutter open and you stare wildly at the man in front of you. Joel. His face is flushed and his eyes are black. You choke out, “J-Joel, what-“ but he squeezes even tighter and your plea dies.

“Shut up bitch,” he snaps. Oh you made a big mistake. Now you understand what kind of man Joel is. You humiliated him when you won. You took his power. And he wants it back.

“How dare you trick me like that.”

You’re desperately shaking your head, unable to speak. He slams your head back into the wall. You feel your scalp scrap against the concrete and blood seep into your hair.

“You think you’re better than me, is that it? Huh?” With his other hand he grabs a fistful of your hair. “Huh? Answer me!” he shouts.

You shake your head desperately. He feels the blood on the back of your head now and slides his hand from your hair. Holding it up, he angles his hand to better see in the light from the streetlamp, admiring the sight of your blood on his fingertips. His other fingers are still pushing into your throat, bruising the skin underneath. You have to get out of here. Not knowing what else to do you kick him in the groin, hoping he’ll drop you or at least loosen his grip. It works and you wrench free. You run one, two steps before he catches you and slams you into the wall. You squeal. His hands pin your wrists against the cold wall by your sides and his body is pressed into yours, squishing you against the wall so tightly you can’t move. His chest is heaving and his breath is in your face as he looks down at you.

“Joel please,” you plead desperately.

“Oh now you have manners.” He scoffs. “Too late little girl,” he says darkly. You whine in desperation and his lethal gaze shift to one of greed. “Oh honey you’re giving me a new idea for how to punish you.” He smiles and you watch as lust clouds his gaze. You feel his cock twitch against your middle. Your eyes widen in terror and you gulp. His predator gaze deepens as he clocks your fear. He feeds off of it. He takes your wrists and pins them above your head with one large hand.

“Gotta show you some respect little girl. Put ya in your place.” He leans his hips into you, pushing you deeper into the hard wall as he grinds into you. With no warning he slaps you across your face. It stings as you feel tears forming in your eyes.

“That’s better. Cry for me girly. Think you can beat me, no, I’ll show who’s in control here.” His other hand other slips beneath the hem of your t-shirt and reaches up to grab at your breast. He gropes you roughly, his cold callous fingers kneading into you. He flicks your nipple and you cringe at the pain, but harden under his touch as he rubs it between his finger and thumb. He groans and his hips grind into you again, rutting up against you and pushing you roughly. You feel your skin grating against the rough concrete behind you. He kisses you sloppily, greedily making out with your unresponsive mouth as you try to turn away. He drops his hand from your breast and slides his hand around your neck again.

“I’m gonna let go and yer' gonna take off your pants. Got that little girl?” You spit in his face. He laughs like a mad man. “You’re a fighter. I said I liked ‘em feisty. You remembered, huh girly?”

Then he abruptly stops and he squeezes so tightly you see black spots. “But right now I need you to behave.” You nod vigorously.

“Good girl.” He releases his tight grip and drops your hands. You undo your pants and push them down with your underwear and are about to step out of them when he stops you. “Leave it.” It restricts your movement more, you can’t run.

 “That’s it, good job girly. Now me.” He commands. You undo his belt with shaking fingers and tug his zipper down. You tentatively pause and he smacks your hip. “I didn’t stay stop,” he growls. You tug his pants and boxers down to his thighs and his cock springs free. He’s so big and angry looking that you start to cry.

“Fuckin’ weak.” He wraps a hand around the base of his cock and strokes himself slowly as you watch. The thumbs the tip of his cock where a bead of precum is leaking out. He raises he fingers to your mouth and slides his thumb over your lower lip roughly before pushing it inside your mouth.

 “No biting.” His thumb glides over your teeth and he pushes further. Your tongue flicks against him instinctively and his cock twitches. “You like this girly? You a little slut?” With his thumb deep in your mouth you’re unable to answer but your eyes glare at him. He just smirks. He taps your jaw with his other fingers then brings them to your lips as you open your mouth wider. You suck on his fingers, saliva gathering on them. When he's satisfied, he pulls them out with a lewd wet noise. He pets your check once with the back of his hand. You feel the scratch of the dried blood as his split knucks skim across your face.

He reaches down between you and slides two fingers into you without hesitation. The stretch burns and your muscles clench in surprise. “Fuck, so tight.” He slides his fingers in and out, punishing your hole as you try to adjust. “We gotta stretch you out a bit if you’re gonna fit this big cock.” He pushes another finger in and you scream. He glares at you and silences your scream with his mouth. He bites your lower lip as he fucks you with his fingers. You taste blood as he pulls way.

After a few more thrusts he feels your body adjust and your slick starts to seep onto his hand. He laughs, “Not such a tough girl now huh?” Your face reddens in embarrassment as your body betrays you.

He slides his fingers out and slaps your wet pussy. “Just a little slut. Knew you wanted this cock.” He pushes his fingers through your folds, playing with you and gathering your slick. He slides his fist down his cock, spreading the wetness.

 “Wanna see you cry on this cock.” With his fist wrapped around the base he guides himself and notches at your entrance then pushes all the way inside you, filling you up and splitting you open. You gasp at the stretch and struggle against him. He clicks his tongue. “None of that, stay still,” he grunts as he pulls out to the tip then slams back in to you. “Gotta take your punishment,” another hard dominating thrust.  

“Gonna ruin your little pussy.” He’s hitting something deep inside you with each painstakingly hard thrust. You feel your body responding, heat pooling and your walls flutter around him. He pulls out halfway and pushes back in, setting a new shallow pace as he fucks you against the wall. It’s faster and more desperate. You see sweat forming on his brow. You think you could probably get out of his grip right now if you tried, he’s distracted and out of breath already. But for some reason you don’t. You stay still as he brutally rails you, your back arching against the wall causing you’re your shoulder blades to sting as the scrape the wall.

The sounds of skin slapping slick skin and groaning fill the narrow alley. The street light flickers and for the first time it dawns on you that anyone could walk by and see you. You shiver and try to push against Joel’s hold but he growls at you through gritted teeth. “I said stay still.”

He’s close, you can see it on his scrunched-up face, so you relax and decide to just let him finish. Your body is marked with purple fingerprints and red marks where he slapped you. The blood in your hair has dried. Maybe it was stupid to fight him, you think as he continues to pound you. He feels good inside you, you can’t deny that. You close your eyes and focus on that feeling now, your hips moving to grind into him. It building and building and you can’t stop it as you come on his cock with a cry. Your walls squeeze his cock and it’s enough to send him spilling into you. His muscles twitch and he presses his entire body up against you, flattening you with his full weight as he comes inside you with a groan. You feel the warm gush of his cum inside you as it spreads and fills you. He sighs and slides out with a lewd squelching sound.

“Hmmmm, hope you learned your lesson little girl.”

Your legs are shaking, cum trickling down your thighs. He steps back and releases his hold on your wrists. You slide down the wall and sit crumpled on the cold ground. He drags his cock against your check once before stuffing it back into his pants and fixing his belt. He smirks down at you, proud of his work. “See ya around,” he says before stalking off, leaving you sitting alone in the dirty alley, pants still around your ankles.

You look down and watch his seed seeping out of you. You gulp, feeling your sore throat ache from his chokehold. You swipe your fingers over your cheek, wiping away your tears cooling against the night air. Your fingers brush against your bloodied swollen lips from his crushing kiss and drift to your sides where you see red prints marking your skin. Your fingers slide lower and find the wetness on your thighs. Without thinking you draw your fingers up to your mouth and suck, tasting him. Hand in your mouth you snap back to reality and glance down the alley to make sure no one is looking. You scrambling up, hand against the wall in support. You hurriedly pull up your pants and rush out of the alley in humiliation.

[star-farer]

lost stars

Summary: Pabu has fallen, its beaming star lost. AU: Ik'aad

There’s a chill wrapping his bones as he stumbles into the Archium, Batcher brushing past his knees. He listens intently, reaches out with his sixth sense, catches the familiar static of his vod’ike.

One, two, three, four…

No.

No.

Never mind the shivering in his limbs, never mind the water dripping down his neck, never mind the hair plastered around his eyes. Those are matters of little consequence when—

Wrecker sits hunched over, one arm cradling his ribs, breath shallow and rattling. Tech has his back turned, shoulders tense as he rearranges the med-pack. Crosshair paces the length of the floor, toothpick clamped between his teeth, hands rolled into tight fists at his sides.

As one they look up to him. As one, he sees the tears shining in their glazed eyes.

But where oh where is their fifth, their youngest, their daughter? Hunter knows the answer, knows her heart, her mind, her soul, so closely entwined in his own. Hunter knows why at last the Empire had ceased their wanton destruction of ignorant, blissful Pabu, why at last they had lifted and turned tail to the stars.

They had gotten what they’d come for.

Ah, Omega, Om’ika. His little girl, his little heart. He remembers her wide eyes and round face, her tiny hands and tufty hair. He remembers how her body once fit entirely in the small of his two hands.

He remembers falling slowly, steadily, desperately in love.

And oh, he watched her grow, watched her roll, then crawl, then stand, then walk. Watched her reach his knee, then his hip, then his waist. Her eyes still wide, even if her face is no longer as round. Her hands always tiny in his, even if her hair has grown longer and softer.

“She’s gone,” whispers Wrecker, voice hoarse and unsteady, “She’s gone.”

A tool clatters, and Tech bows his head. His hands brace the table as he forces himself to breathe; Hunter hears it in his too-fast heartbeats.

Wrecker refuses to raise his head. Tech refuses to turn around. Hunter reaches out to Crosshair, as he always does. His second-in-command, his first little brother, his only confidant.

His fingertips graze his brother’s vambrace, and the sniper freezes where he stands. Hunter cannot speak, not when his mouth is so dry and there is a sphere of a scream lodged in the back of his throat. He wills with his eyes for Crosshair to understand.

And of course he does. No one understands the secrets behind glances better than Crosshair. He bows his head, turns his face away, and it takes everything in Hunter not to yank him back by the chin to hold his gaze.

“She was stubborn.” Of course she was. They raised her. “She wouldn’t let anyone else get hurt.” Hunter holds his breath as he watches Crosshair pinch his eyes, scrub his face.

“She turned herself in.”

There is something deep within him that snaps and howls.

Oh, but this is all their fault, yes? All his fault, raising a child full of hope with a sense of justice and mercy, a sense of kindness and sternness, a discipline and a gentleness. He’d always known his soft lectures and advices — words she had listened to with the same desperation of gulping water — would come back to bite him.

Why did it have to be her? Why his little love?

“Thrice,” breathes Tech, shuddering, gasping as he trembles, “It has been thrice now that we have lost her.”

None of Tech’s facts can ever cut him as deeply as this one does. He stumbles away, until his back presses against a wall and he slides down to the floor.

He feels like a flesh wound: raw and dripping red, flowing like there’s no tomorrow. Perhaps there isn’t. Perhaps this is it. Perhaps the universe will collapse in on itself because of the density of their loss.

Perhaps all that will be left behind is a void, a vast emptiness, a gaping black hole that would never fill.

He keens as if gutted, a low guttural moan that rings in his ears as all that registers is his loss, his loss, his daughter, his loss. He buries his face in his hands, arms, knees. Pulls his hair so that he can focus on the pain in his scalp and not the pain in his heart.

“Kar’ika, where is my kar’ika?”

There was a time he has sung these words in the hopes of hearing muffled little giggles from some hiding place. There was a time when he has murmured these words to the shivering lump in his blanket.

And now he weeps, he mourns as he begs for an answer he will not receive. His child, his little star, snatched away from his embrace, leaving him cold.

Where is his kar’ika?

[kallie-den]

True Renaming

A lesbian witch makes a mistake and accidentally summons an incubus instead of a succubus... but decides that she can fix "him" with just a few tweaks to the demon's true name

This force-feminization story was written for my patrons, based on the results of one of the polls I regularly run on Patreon!

If you like my writing, please consider supporting me on Patreon!   For less than the price of a cup of coffee each month, you can get   immediate, early access to everything I write - along with exclusive stories and the ability to vote on what I write next. Your support helps  me keep writing and is greatly appreciated   <3

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Ardat, incubus, took a moment to stretch as the brimstone smoke cleared, savoring every little sensation that came with being incarnated in a physical body - the cool air, the sound of his own heartbeat, the little strains of exertion as he experimentally lifted his arms. It had been too long. Far too long. Ardat had existed for eons, but summonings were becoming rarer and rarer. Now, finally, he was free to roam and corrupt the Earth once more.

Well, not free. Not yet. He had been summoned into a magic circle; a ring of symbols and salt that kept him bound to the spot. But that was merely a minor inconvenience. All Ardat needed to do was convince his summoner to lower their guard a little, and he had plenty of experience with that.

He was, after all, a sex demon.

Now that the smoke had almost cleared, he could just about see them. Ardat stroked his goatee, attended to his short, tufted, black hair, and plastered a winning, charismatic smile on his perfectly formed face. He struggled to keep it there when he noticed the expression his summoner was wearing.

Overwhelming frustration and disappointment.

That was a surprise. Ardat had been greeted in many ways - with awe, lust, shock, self-righteous contempt. But who would be disappointed with a sex demon they’d bound to their will and summoned from the bowels of hell itself?

A woman, for one. A goth, for another. The look of utter, icy disdain on her face looked like it was fixed there permanently, accentuated by her jet-black lipstick and thick, immaculate eyeliner. She had long, silky, black hair - plainly dyed - with layers of deep blue visible underneath, and her clothing was all fishnets, lace, and asymmetrical, flowing folds of black cloth. Her look was - in Ardat’s opinion - a little tacky, but she undeniably carried it off well, and her figure was on the softer, rounded, better-endowed side. Aradat certainly liked that. More for him to enjoy.

“Master,” Ardat said, his voice a low purr. He offered a low, theatrical bow. “Might I have the pleasure of your name? All the better to serve you, of course. Although I must confess a slight, ulterior motive. I desire to confirm my suspicion that your name is just as lovely as you are.”

It was a good line, and one that had made many would-be witches blush throughout history. So, Ardat had been hoping for a better response than an angry, disgusted: “Tch.”

He tilted his head, confused. “Excuse me?”

“It’s Lenora,” she said, with an air of clear reluctance. “I guess.”

“Have… I done something to offend you, master?” Ardat asked cautiously.

Lenora groaned and made a gesture like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re an incubus.”

“Of course.” Ardat took a moment to refresh his grin. “I am Ardat of the Second Circle. I am accomplished in pleasures far beyond the average mortal ken - and I am at your disposal, body and soul.”

Lenora simply rolled her eyes. “You don’t get it. I’m a lesbian.”

Ardat’s smile immediately faltered. “Then… if I may ask… why did you-“

“Because you were meant to be a succubus!” the witch exploded. “I wanted to get my mind blown, and I found an old grimoire talking about this ancient sex demon. ‘Ardat of Ur’. A succubus! And now I get… you.”

“Ah,” Ardat said awkwardly. “Well, gender and grammar in ancient proto-Sumerian can be a little tricky.”

Lenora glared daggers at him. “Now what am I supposed to do?”

“Master, I’m sure you know that labels are just words,” Ardat attempted, making his voice a thrilling, husky growl and arching his back to present his bare, sculpted chest to the witch. “Whatever you may consider yourself, why not try allowing me to please you? I’m sure I could find a way to change your feelings. Everyone’s a little flexible, under the right circumstances. Maybe you just haven’t found the right man.”

From the look on her face, he immediately knew he’d chosen the wrong tactic. “Gross,” Lenora spat, even more disgustedly. “Try that again, and I’ll banish you before you can blink.”

“Wait!” Ardat said hurriedly. “Don’t send me back! Not when I… when I have so much to offer you, that is.” He tried to sound simpering and pleasing; maybe she’d like that more. “I could easily help you to summon a demon a little more fitting for your tastes. Now, if you’ll just let me out of this magic circle, I’ll-“

Lenora snorted a laugh. “Nice try. But no. Part of the reason I’m so pissed is that, as you well know, I can’t attempt this ritual again until the next lunar-venusian conjunction. Which is also the reason I can’t afford to send you back to Hell.”

Hearing that gave Ardat the twinge of hope he needed. “Then, surely there must be some service I can perform for you, master,” he purred. “Simply name your heart’s desire, and I will happily provide - for the right price, of course.”

“I don’t think-“ Lenora abruptly broke off, and then started thoughtfully at Ardat. Hope swelled in his demonic chest. “Actually,” she began thoughtfully, “maybe there is something I can do with you.”

“Yes?” Ardat asked, cautiously optimistic.

“I do have you here, even if you’re not quite right,” Lenora mused, pacing across the room. “And I do still have an itch I could do with scratching.”

Ardat let out a filthy laugh. “I’d be more than happy to assist, master,” he purred. “I knew you would prove to be open-minded.”

Lenora threw him a dangerous look, but it faded from her face almost immediately, replaced by a wicked, satisfied smirk. Somehow, that worried Ardat much, much more than her anger.

“Open-minded? No,” Lenora said. “I’m just going to fix you.”

“F-fix?” Ardat’s worry was growing.

“Fix,” Lenora confirmed, grinning. “Succubus, incubus, how different can they really be? Anyway, that whole thing is way too binary to be real. I’m sure it can’t be so hard to turn one into the other.”

“Turn into-“ Ardat let out a nervous, incredulous laugh. “Very funny, master.”

“Oh, I’m not joking.” Lenora’s grin was steadily taking on a crooked, malevolent quality. “I’m a witch. A damn good one. You wouldn’t believe what I can turn people into.”

“That’s not the problem,” Ardat explained, sighing. “Demons aren’t like people. Who we are - our bodies, our personalities, our genders - aren’t, for want of a better word, malleable. They are unchanging; ontologically fixed to specific lingua-symbolic entities - better known by your kind as our ‘true names’.”

It was a little surprising that a witch capable of summoning a demon didn’t know that much, but Ardat wanted to make sure to nip this absurd notion in the bud. He needed to guide Lenora towards something he could truly tempt her with.

“Your true names, huh?” Lenora laughed and reached for an old, leather-bound book resting on a nearby table. “Like, for example… this?”

She flipped it open to a bookmarked page and held it up for Ardat to see. It sent a cold shiver down his spine. His true name was written in the pages.

Most people wouldn’t have recognized it as such, or as a name at all. It wasn’t in words - English words least of all. Instead, it was a complex, intricately-interwoven symbol, expanding to fill an entire page of a huge grimoire with headache-inducing artistic and geometric figures. And yet, it was his name. ‘Ardat’ was the corresponding vocalization, although, from a demon’s perspective, it was crude to the point of ugliness in how little information it truly conveyed. The symbol on the page in Lenora’s book told and defined everything about the incubus, from beginning to end.

Which was very, very bad.

Knowledge was power, both figuratively and literally. It didn’t mean Lenora could pull off the kind of insane transformation she seemed to be set on, but knowing Ardat’s true name meant there was plenty she was capable of. He was going to have to tread extremely carefully.

“Where did you get that?” Ardat hissed.

“It’s from ancient Sumeria,” Lenora answered, throwing him a smug, nasty look. “You see, my ancient proto-Sumerian is actually fucking great. I just misinterpreted one little part of your true name. Don’t worry, it won’t happen again. I had to pay a pretty penny for this grimoire, though. Time to see if it’ll all be worth it.”

“That…” Ardat sighed, exasperated. “You still can’t turn me into… well, into anything! That isn’t how this works. True names might be written in ink, but I can assure you, they’re metaphorically set in stone. There are only a handful of artifacts in existence with the power to change them.”

“C’mon.” Lenora started giggling. “You can’t just set me up like that twice in a row.”

Ardat’s heart sank. “S-surely you don’t-“

This time, she reached for a small, wood-carved box and opened it. Inside was a candle that looked ordinary at first, but when Lenora lit it with a well-used lighter, the wax started to glow with an unnatural, purple phosphorescence.

“An ur-candle,” Ardat whispered reverently.

Fuck.

“Let’s take it for a spin, shall we?” Lenora said. She set the grimoire bearing Ardat’s true name down on the table and lifted the ur-candle menacingly towards it.

“Wait!” Ardat called out in alarm. He’d only heard whispers about what was about to happen, but those alone were enough to terrify him. But he fell silent once Lenora tipped the candle, and allowed a little of its wax to drip onto his true name.

Ardat froze. He could feel something; an unnameable sensation that held him in its grip and made his head feel like it was going to split open. It was as if something was touching his very soul, especially when Lenora picked up an iron stylus and used it like a pen to move the molten wax around on the page. Disconcertingly, the ink underneath it, dried for thousands of years, started to bubble up and move with it. And just like that, his reality was rewritten.

It only took hold slowly, with the first changes beginning after the wax on the grimoire’s pages had already set, but its pace quickened rapidly after Lenora held up the book for Ardat to inspect. His true name, the sigil that was the incubus’s very being, was different now. The changes were slight and subtle, and to most people they would have meant nothing. But to Ardat, it was everything.

Only, that was no longer his name. The sigil now sounded out as something different. It would be-

“Aridat,” Lenora pronounced, in a strong, clear, commanding voice. “Your name is Aridat.”

Aridat’s head sheared, and they shook their head in futile denial. “N-no.”

“Your name is Aridat,” Lenora insisted.

“My name,” Aridat grunted through gritted teeth, straining to hold on to at least this, to at least the word, “is Ard… Ar… Ari…”

“Your name,” Lenora repeated patiently, “is Aridat.”

“My name is Ari… dat,” Aridat found themself agreeing, a pained look on their face. “No, it’s… my name is Aridat… Ard… Aridat.”

The new sound was such a small thing, like a breath, and that made it so poisonously easy for it to slip in between the consonants, making its presence felt only in how much softer their name suddenly sounded as it left the incubus’s lips.

“Aridat,” Lenora nodded. The grin on her face was now one of lurid, sadistic fascination. “Good.”

“My name is… Aridat?” Aridat was losing their conviction. It was hard to remain defiant when reality itself had turned against them. They could feel an immense pull toward acceptance like a lead weight on their shoulders.

“Aridat,” Lenora repeated again. The witch tilted her head, amused. “You’re even starting to look like an Aridat.”

Her comment drew attention to something Aridat had been trying to convince themself wasn’t real: the way their body suddenly seemed just as molten and pliable as the wax of the ur-candle, ready to be changed, reshaped, remolded. The sensation was almost imperciptible, though. So subtle it was almost like nothing was changing at all. Aridat had to force themself to truly notice what was happening to them. Their face was softening and rounding out, and their goatee fell from their face in wisps as it disintegrated into nothing. Aridat’s hair had grown inches in seconds, and their body lost its overbearingly masculine silhouette as their shoulders narrowed and their hips widened. They even became shorter.

Ardat had been manly. Strong. A straight woman’s fantasy brought to life. Aridat, it turned out, was androgynous. Even elfin.

It just went with the name, somehow.

“My name… is Aridat,” they said slowly. This time, Aridat’s voice was heavy with acceptance. It felt good to embrace it, just like it felt good to breathe after forcing yourself to stay underwater.

Their name was Aridat. It just was. And they were a them, apparently.

“Fuck,” Lenora breathed. “That was so hot.”

Aridat, still recovering from having their identity rewritten on a spiritual level, was shaking with rage. Reality had changed but, crucially, history hadn’t. They still remembered what they’d lost. They’d been Ardat. They’d been manly and strong. Now, just looking down at their body was accompanied by a hot lick of bitter humiliation. And it was all because of this accursed witch. If not for the magic circle marked on the ground, Aridat would have had their hands around her throat.

“Aridat,” Lenora said, “how do you feel?”

The worst part, the very worst, was the way their new name being called felt. It made their ears prick up and instinctively caught their attention. Aridat was their name now, and like it or not, they answered to it.

“I… feel…” Aridat replied slowly. How did they feel? It was impossible to say. Their head was a swirling mass of contradictions. Memories that didn’t match reality. Old instincts that didn’t match their new personality, which seemed somehow more passive. More pliant. “I… don’t know.”

“That makes sense.” Lenora nodded thoughtfully. “It looked wild. I’m sure feeling it is even crazier, even though I was trying not to scramble you too badly. Although…” She looked Aridat up and down pointedly. “Maybe I wasn’t ambitious enough.”

Hearing that made Aridat’s blood run cold. “W-what?”

“Don’t get me wrong!” Lenora held up her hands in mock sincerity. “You look great, really. Normally I wouldn’t be so picky. I can roll with androgynous. But tonight I was really looking for something more on the ‘succubus’ end of the spectrum.”

“Fuck you,” Aridat hissed.

“I’m sorry!” Lenora’s grin was already breaking through her face. “This isn’t an exact science, you know. But now that I’ve tested it out, I think it’s safe to say that we can push this just a little bit further.”

“Wait!” Aridat begged as she lifted up the ur-candle again. They couldn’t let her change them any further. This was bad enough, but at least their old identity, their old name, was still within sight. “Stop, you can’t-“

Lenora ignored them, and tipped more enchanted wax onto their true name.

Aridat immediately felt it again; that terrifying sense of displacement as their true name began to flow like fresh ink. It was ice-cold and shockingly intimate, and made them uncomfortable aware of all the ways they were being changed. It made them feel thin; so thin that they’d fold like paper under their own weight.

The sensation doubled when Lenora took her pen to the molten wax. This time she was more daring and less careful, streaking the wax and ink across the page in huge strokes. Aridat felt each one in their soul, even as they felt that name, newly-given, already beginning to slip away.

Once she was done, Lenora looked up. She was clearly proud of her penmanship, and looked at the incubus thoughtfully.

“Your name,” she said, in that slow, deliberate way, “is Aridata.”

Aridata’s heart skipped a beat. “C-c’mon,” she whined. “It’s n-not.”

“Your name,” Lenora said again, more firmly, “is Aridata.”

As futile as it might have been, Aridata couldn’t help but try to fight it. “My name,” she struggled. “Is… Ar… Aridat.”

Even that, though, was surrender, and they both knew it. Aridata still remembered the name ‘Ardat’, but she couldn’t bring herself to claim it. Not anymore. It wouldn’t feel right. She wouldn’t sound sure enough. But hearing her insist she was ‘Aridat’ now brought a maddening smile to Lenora’s face and made the demon feel weak.

And the way it came out of her mouth was just as bad. ‘Aridat’, but with a new openness at the end; a hint, a wisp, a breath of something yet to be sounded out.

“Your name is Aridata,” Lenora insisted simply.

Her words rippled over Aridata, making her shiver with their rhythm. “My name is Ari… Aridat… a… Ari…”

She was on the brink. Both of them knew it.

“Your name is Aridata.”

“My name… my name is… A-Aridata.”

As before, it was an incredible relief to say it. Aridata. That was her name. A-ri-da-ta. It sounded so different now. So light. That treasonous little ‘a’ appended to it, a whole syllable of femininity, opened up the entire name, making the harder consonants before it a mere prelude.

Aridata. It was a girl’s name.

Aridata knew what that must mean. She reached up and touched her face, and found it different. It was her face, and it wasn’t. It wasn’t changing; an old, defunct reality was simply washing away, revealing a newer reality that might always have been there. Aridata’s face was softer now. Less angular. She had wider eyes, petite brows, and a far less pronounced jawline. But that was absolutely nothing compared to what was happening to the rest of her body. Suddenly, Aridata had wide hips and curved thighs and, most distractingly of all, the distinct swell of breasts on her chest.

“Wow,” Lenora commented, wolf-whistling. “Now that’s more like it.”

“Fuck. You!” Aridata spat, and was shocked at how girlish her voice sounded. She couldn’t manage the same level of vitriol and spite as she had earlier.

“Maybe, soon.” Lenora giggled. “You know, that outfit suits you much better now.”

Aridata looked down at herself and almost choked. She was wearing the same clothing as before - black, tight-fitting, leather pants, and nothing else - but with her appearance it felt very different. She had gone from suave seducer to something much more butch, or perhaps tomboyish. Her hair, now mid-length, fit with that too. The whole thing felt like a pointed mockery, and that should have made Aridata violently angry.

Instead, it made her blush.

It was something about her chest. Having breasts, even small ones, made being topless feel very, very different. It made Aridata feel exposed; she was suddenly conscious of the air on her skin, and even more conscious of Lenora’s gaze on her body. Everything about it was undignified. Even succubi preferred tempting, alluring, suggestive clothes to simply going topless! Instinctively, Aridata moved to cover herself and started looking around for a stray item of clothing she could use. Only the look of mirth in Lenora’s eyes stopped her.

What was she doing? Aridata wasn’t some kind of blushing maiden. She was… a man? That didn’t sound right, even in her own head. But she knew she had to try and keep hold of that version of reality.

“What’s the matter?” Lenora teased. “You weren’t shy like this before. Isn’t that interesting?”

“Hey!” Aridata huffed. “That’s not-“

She broke off. She’d huffed. Since when did she huff? That wasn’t like her at all. Except it was now. Even her mannerisms were suspect. The things Lenora could do with her candle and Aridata’s true name went far beyond the superficial. Her mannerisms, her personality, her memories - all of them could be rewritten with no more than a stroke of a pen.

“Don’t worry,” Lenora said mockingly. “I enjoy you being more ladylike.”

“I’m. Not.” Aridata had to fight to keep her voice deep and even. “I-I’m a man.”

Lenora just looked at him pityingly. They both knew how false it sounded. Aridata’s voice was too high, too light, and the inner convictions of her nature were telling her otherwise, robbing her words of their conviction.

“Uh-huh,” Lenora replied, deadpan. “And who’s gonna believe that?”

“I…” Aridata spluttered. “I…”

“Then again,” Lenora added, making no attempt to hide her mockery. “Maybe you have a point. This look is good, but it’s not really what I was after. It’s more ‘female incubus’ than ‘succubus’, if that makes any sense.”

Aridata’s blood ran cold yet again as she realized what Lenora was hinting at. “N-no, wait!”

She wasn’t expecting Lenora to tilt her head and look thoughtfully at her. “OK. I’m waiting.”

“I…”

Aridata found herself speechless. She doubted anything she might say could dissuade Lenora, but there was too much at stake not to try. However, she wasn’t going to beg. She wasn’t. Aridata - Ardat, Ardat, she reminded herself - never begged. She tempted, she offered, she bargained, but she never begged. That just wasn’t how this was supposed to go. So… what could she offer? There was only one answer, however stomach-churning and humiliating.

The former incubus did her best to strike an alluring pose that showed off all her feminine assets. It came to her worryingly naturally, and she was effortlessly able to bend forward, back arched, chest pushed out, hips swaying, and put something approaching a suggestive half-smile on her face.

“I…” Aridata said falteringly. “I could… please you. Like this.”

She just had to hope that would be enough for her lesbian captor. Perhaps it almost was. Lenora had the look of someone flipping a mental coin. Once she made her mind, though, her eyes glinted wickedly, and Aridata knew she’d lost.

“Close,” Lenora conceded. “But I think we can do better.”

Before Aridata could argue, she once again tipped the ur-candle’s wax onto Aridata’s true name.

This time, Lenora didn’t even wait for the wax to settle and congeal before she started speaking. There was eagerness in her eyes, put there by unquestionable arousal.

“Your name,” Lenora announced, “is Aridatya.”

As she spoke she made it so, using her stylus to draw the wax across the grimoire’s page in big, thick strokes, obliterating the reality Aridatya had only just been growing accustomed to and replacing it with another.

“It is not!” Aridatya tried to insist. “My name is… is Ar… Ari… um… Arida…”

It was getting harder and harder to fight it. Her head was a swirling morass of different names, all of them so similar, all of which felt right and all of which felt wrong. But a new one had just appeared, echoing like a gong, sounding more and more right with each passing moment.

“Your name is Aridatya,” Lenora repeated. She sounded so firm, so sure, whilst Aridatya wasn’t sure about anything.

“My name is… Aridatya?” it came out like a question, and so Lenora nodded in agreement.

“Your name is Aridatya.”

Aridatya found herself nodding too. “My name is A-Aridatya.”

She just couldn’t bring herself to say anything else.

“That’s right.” Lenora’s stylus was still moving across the page, etching details in ink and wax, inscribing all the details of Aridatya’s soul.

“Aridatya…” Aridatya said it slowly, testing how the name felt on her tongue. Her name had become so long, so luxurious. That little ‘y’ made it sound even more feminine, and somehow fancy. Perhaps even exotic.

And… that was her, wasn’t it? It seemed to suit her perfectly, even though she would have struggled to say why. Did that mean she was exotic? Fancy? Feminine?

No. No, of course not. Ardat had never been those things, and that should have settled the question. But it didn’t. Ardat wasn’t real. Not anymore. There was just Aridatya.

Aridatya balled her hands into fists and scolded herself. She couldn’t let herself think that way. She was an incubus. A man, as remote as that now seemed. She had to remember that. She had to remember that none of this was right. She had to.

“It’s quite a name,” Lenora remarked, finishing her handiwork with a flourish. “Aridatya. I think Aridatya is very, very confident in her femininity. Don’t you? Aridatya sounds like a real girly girl to me. The kind of succubus who really revels in it.” Her smirk turned crooked once more. “At least, that’s how it looks in my handwriting.”

“W-what?” Aridatya was stunned as she felt changes washing over her. Nothing was more unsettling than feeling her reality alter. The changes themselves kept slipping beneath her notice; rather than experiencing the transformation directly, it was like she was always noticing the way reality had always been.

In this case, that meant noticing that her hair was longer, and that she was now wearing something different - a long, flowing nightgown, tailored to accentuate a body that was far, far more feminine than she remembered. Those were Aridatya clothes, apparently. It meant noticing that her face was slender and lips full, and her eyes adorned with smoky, sultry makeup. But more than that, it meant noticing how she felt.

It meant noticing that she liked it.

“No!” Aridatya cried out, desperate to give voice to her disgust before it fled. “That’s not right! I hate this.”

“You do?” Lenora feigned surprise, but couldn’t hide her amusement. “But you’re so pretty now.”

The heat, the warm glow of praise that Aridatya immediately felt, was dangerous. Preening was instinctive, as was posing pleasingly and shifting her weight from side to side to accentuate her hips. It took precious seconds for Aridatya to catch herself and plaster a scowl over the thin, devilish smile that had come naturally to her face.

“S-shut up,” Aridatya snarled, torn between forced resentment and reflexive pride.

“C’mon,” Lenora wheedled. “Aren’t you everything a succubus is supposed to be?”

That was a potent compliment, poisonous and sinister in how affirming it was. A succubus was supposed to be beautiful, feminine and seductive, and Aridatya felt like all of those things. So it was undeniable, wasn’t it? She was everything a succubus was supposed to be. The only thing telling her was the faint memory of deeply-buried false reality, fading by the moment.

“I’m an incubus,” Aridatya tried to insist. “Not a succubus. An incubus!”

“Aridatya,” Lenora said pityingly, “do you think anyone seeing you now, anyone at all, would believe that?”

The succubus’s cheeks turned crimson. She looked away and cast about for anything she could use as ammunition. There was precious little left, but Aridatya’s thoughts quickly turned to what was between her legs. It had always been the very pride of her manhood.

“Oh, I see.” Lenora giggled. “You’re thinking about that, are you?”

Now, Aridatya paled. Had it been that obvious?

“I was thinking of letting you keep it, you know,” Lenora remarked, lifting the ur-candle again. “But if you’re going to be difficult about it…”

Aridatya truly turned as white as a sheet as she watched one single drop of wax fall onto the page.

Compared to before, it was nothing. Lenora was careful and subtle with her stylus, too. All in all, the change she made didn’t even amount to a single letter. It was an accent at most; a simple change in pronunciation, barely audible. Aridatya was still Aridatya. But it was enough, and after several horrid moments of anticipation, the succubus felt a new reality wash over her.

And it brought with it a cunt between her legs.

Aridatya gasped and whimpered at the sudden, aching loss which drove home just how much dignity and power she’d lost. Her name, her face - those things were precious, yes, but losing a part of her body that was so symbolic and fundamental for an incubus was even more of a violation. With her hips and thighs still shifting to accommodate her new anatomy, Aridatya squeezed her legs together, hoping to feel something solid between them. Instead, she just felt a sharp, shock of pleasure race up her spine from the unfamiliar stimulation to her new, sensitive pussy.

It was humiliating, and worse, the demon couldn’t suppress a low whine of pleasure. Lenora, of course, just laughed at her plight.

“My, my,” the witch commented. “Enjoying yourself already?”

“Shut up!” Aridatya huffed. She was incandescent with shame and rage, and she couldn’t do anything about it. She couldn’t hide. Couldn’t flee. Couldn’t stop what was happening to her.

“C’mon,” Lenora giggled mockingly. “Don’t you kind of like it?”

Aridatya had to look away because the truth was that, on some level, she did. Somehow, having a cunt instead of a cock just felt right. It made her feel more like herself, perversely; desirable and sexy in all the right ways for a succubus like her. Knowing that she’d been an incubus minutes ago and had a dick seconds ago didn’t help. It made her seethe with rage and burn with humiliation, yes, but it didn’t make having this body feel any less deliciously affirming.

So, instead, the contrasting emotions inside Aridatya - new and old - were forced to curdle and mix together as reality fought for a stable configuration. They became complimentary, mutually-reinforcing. Her humiliation became a pleasure all of its own, sinful and tempting, spiking her arousal even higher. Her anger, directed so singularly at Lenora, twisted and became a very different kind of craving, one that was predatory and carnal.

A succubus’s hunger.

It was a heady, dizzying cocktail of feelings to be struck with, and it made keeping Aridatya’s identity straight harder than ever. Instinct was taking over. It infested her body language, making her pose and preen and smile, directing all of her hellishly tempting appeal straight at Lenora. The witch was clearly amused and enticed in equal measure.

“Wow,” she remarked, cocking an eyebrow. “Maybe that was the magic ticket. Feeling a little more agreeable now?”

“Absolutely,” Aridatya replied, her voice a vicious purr. She was desperate. She couldn’t let this go any further. She needed Lenora to let down her guard.

“Fascinating,” Lenora breathed. For a moment, occult curiosity took over, although the color in her cheeks made it clear her interest was far more than just academic. “I suppose it is the lynchpin of the succubus/incubus distinction - in some schema, at least - so it makes sense it would have rather dramatic ripples.”

“Dramatic,” Aridatya echoed pleasingly. She bent forward, showing off her new assets. Her tits had become impressively large and pert, and it was dawning on her that she could use that. That she knew how to use that. “Hey, so how about that itch you needed scratching?”

“Yeah?” Lenora couldn’t help but stare, Aridatya noticed with pleasure. “You’re interested.”

“Oh, I just can’t wait to sink my teeth into you,” Aridatya cooed. She giggled. “Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

The plan, of course, was to seduce her, and then, once she released Aridatya from the magical circle, subdue her and force her to undo all the changes she’d made. At least, that was what Aridatya was telling herself. In truth, it was rationalization as much as anything else. Beneath it all was a simple, heartbeat-drum of need and desire, driving her towards Lenora’s warmth.

"Wow,” Lenora breathed. She wasn’t so quick-witted now. Aridatya could tell she was succumbing to her own desires, now that her summoned demon was in a form far, far more agreeable to her tastes. “But… sink your teeth into me? That sounds a little…”

“C’mon.” Aridatya tried to affect a high-pitched, feminine voice. It came effortlessly, and she was as dismayed at that as she was pleased with her success. “You can trust me. I just want what you made me want.”

Lenora almost went for it. Almost. But in the end, she pulled back and shook her head. “I wish. This version of you is pretty great, if I do say so myself. But… I can tell this isn’t going to be a good idea.”

“N-no.” Aridatya’s smile faltered.

“Perhaps I’ve been going about this the wrong way,” Lenora mused. “It’s not enough to make you a succubus. Not anymore. You’ll still remember what I did, at least a little, and you’ll still want revenge. I need to address that.”

“My… memories?” Aridatya was aghast. How could she fight that?

But Lenora shook her head. “No. Something deeper: your past.” She lifted the ur-candle and toyed with it in her hand, an egomaniacal smile playing across her face. “A true name is such a potent thing. It contains everything about you. Even your very history. Change that, and there’s nothing to remember.”

“Wait!” Aridatya called out, as Lenora started to tip the candle, but she already knew that wouldn’t stop her. Her next word tasted like bitter tears. “P-please!”

She didn’t beg. For all that had changed, that remained true. But this was her limit. This was the end. And so, Aridatya begged.

It didn’t matter.

This time, the way Lenora altered her true name was anything but subtle, even if it was artful. Using her stylus, she worked wax and ink all over the grimoire’s page, inscribing a fresh pattern that seemed to make the entire sigil shift into a bold new configuration.

“And,” Lenora murmured as she worked. “Why not push a few other things a little further, too?”

The sight made the succubus’s head throb, especially when Lenora looked up at her and said:

“Your name is Arideniya.”

“My name is… is Arideniya.”

This time, Aridenya didn’t bother to fight it. She just let her new reality wash over her, and accepted whatever her new self turned out to be.

It felt good, as it turned out. Arideniya couldn’t even perceive the changes as they occurred. Each one etched itself into her memory and her past, as if things had always been that way. Aridenya was left completely, blissfully ignorant of the fact that once, maybe, for a different version of herself, things had been very, very different.

Her tits had always been this huge. Her cunt had always dripped enticing wetness down her thighs when she was turned on and hungry. She’d always been a succubus, a woman, an embodiment of female sexuality, ready to feast on any mortal who came within reach. And when they were around her, they wanted to be feasted on so very, very much.

Arideniya didn’t just feel feminine. She felt powerful, and she took to her power like it was second nature. She stood tall, practically filling the room from floor to ceiling. Her horns were a crown upon her head, and her clothing was royal robes, no less revealing and suggestive for their grandeur. As the wax dried, Arideniya looked down at Lenora like a queen looking down at someone presenting themselves as tribute.

“Master,” the succubus purred, her tone anything but submissive. “Allow me to show you true pleasure.”

Lenora started to sweat from sheer temptation. Her magic circle offered scant protection against the raw, mind-bending power of Arideniya’s presence. She was overwhelming in every sense. She was any mortal’s fantasy given form, and Lenora was far from immune.

“W-what,” the witch struggled to say. She was drooling, but her mouth sounded painfully dry. “This isn’t… I didn’t mean to…”

“Oh, yes, you did,” Arideniya countered. “This is exactly what you wanted. Exactly what you summoned. I’m all your handiwork, Master. It’s time to enjoy me. Time to take down this silly little circle.”

Lenora twitched abruptly, like she was struggling not to obey. Temptation was overriding her reason. Arideniya’s wicked grin widened. She had no particular animosity towards this mortal - but she needed to feed, and she liked to drink deep.

“I don’t u-understand how…” Lenora stuttered, flustered. She took a single step towards Arideniya, taking her perilously close to the magical circle’s boundary, before something seemed to click in her head. “Oh. Oh! I know what I did wrong.”

She stepped back, and hefted the objects in her hand - a leather-bound grimoire and a strange-looking candle. Arideniya’s eyes flew wide as she noticed it. The object seemed to trigger a memory from another life.

“Is that a-“ was all she managed to say before Lenora once again tipped the candle wax all over the grimoire.

This time, Lenora wasn’t artful or sparing. She poured as much wax as she could, obliterating almost all of the succubus’s true name in a single gesture. The succubus was rooted to the spot as a strange, unearthly sensation swept through her, making her mind flash white and robbing her of all sense of self and purpose. The sensation only grew stronger when Lenora started writing with her stylus in wax and ink, replacing some of what had been blotted out and altering what remained.

“It was obvious, really,” Lenora murmured as she worked. “I was too focused on what I wanted to change. Lost sight of the big picture. I was adding, each and every time. More letters, more sounds, more changes stacked on top of changes. I made a name that was impressive. Magnificent. Powerful.” She grinned. “But I think this will do the job just fine instead.”

The succubus standing before her just stared, dumbfounded, struggling to comprehend the meaning of her words.

“Your name,” Lenora told her, slowly and deliberately, “is Aria.”

“My name…” Aria echoed, “is… Aria!”

She brightened as she said it. It felt so right, and the rightness of it made her giggle a pretty, air-headed giggle. Aria licked her lips and arched her back, and reached up to jiggle her own, massive tits experimentally. Doing that made her giggle even harder.

“Maaaaster,” she drawled, pouting. “Don’t you wanna, like, fuck me?”

Lenora laughed. “No need to worry about hidden agendas now, I think,” she said. “So - time to make a contract?”

“A contract?” Aria snorted. “That stuff is soooo boring. Um… let’s see… I’ll give you whatever you want if you’ll, like, make me feel good?”

“Deal,” Lenora announced. She stepped forwards and used the tip of her shoe to erase the boundary of the magical circle on the ground. As soon as it was broken, Aria bounced on her, kissing and squeezing and groping with overeager lust.

Lenora laughed, and her laughter soon turned to moans. It was time to get that itch scratched.

---

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[16th-of-a-twigg]

Here, Merlin fandom, enjoy the preface and a few extra paragraphs from the Merlin fanfic I've had as a WIP since 2013 (which doesn't even have a title after all these years 🤡)

A low thunder rolled across the pitch black sky as the rain bucketed down, like it was angry at the earth for some injustice of sorts. It broke the surface of the lake water, tearing it apart in a fit of rage. The ancient lake took the beating in its stride. Receiving more unkindness from the ever persistent human contact over the centuries, marring its once clean waters. With the storm at its peak, the town of [Town Name] had retired from their mild Halloween celebrations earlier that afternoon. Only a sparse few were game enough to challenge a late night of getting saturated. With this lack of witnesses, no one was around to watch as the tension of the lakes water became disturbed, bubbles coming from below, creating a sort of small fountain. A murky silhouette drifted to the surface and once it hit the chilly air let out a loud gasp. Its arms chopped through the water, creating large splashes as it tried to stay afloat in the unpleasantly cold lake, spluttering up water as it did so. Spinning around to locate the vague image of land, its mind on autopilot, he unsteadily began to swim toward his goal. —— The blond hair of the King of Camelot was plastered to his face, making it a darker shade of its once golden colour. He slowly dragged himself onto the muddy shore, teeth chattering as the mixture of chilly air and icy waters seeped through some exposed flesh to his bones. Arthur’s eyelashes were clumped together with water, his lips blue and his face streaked with patches of mud. He dropped his dead weight back onto the ground, trying to catch his breath for the moment. Arthur scrunched his eyes in frustration and pulled his weight up off the cold slurry besides the lakes water. His once prided bright red cloak stained with mud and drenched, turning it a dark maroon. Arthur winced as he tried to pull himself up to a standing position, clutching at a spot somewhere high on his chest. Arthur was sure he could hear the soft voice of a woman, barely there. Ringing in his head or off in the distance? He couldn't tell.

From the pain in his chest he staggered, stumbling over a large round object on the ground which rolled and slid away in the slurry. But he gained momentum and scrambled up through the tall bushes in front of him. The sound of the woman appeared to be getting increasingly closer and Arthur hoped that it was someone who could be of help. Pushing aside the foliage with his gloved hands in haste and catching a few twigs in his hair, Arthur finally tripped through into the clearing. His boots hit solid ground, dull black in colour and massive like one big piece of rock but not quite. His head snapped up to the sound of a low rumble and in the blink of an eye a bright light and massive yellow force collided with him. Ten times worse than his nastiest injury during a jousting competition. The force and excruciating pain that went through Arthur’s body knocked him unconscious. His body got tossed to the side and landed back down onto the road with a dull thud

Just know that the fic was intended to be a set of 3 works and I had written a solid outline for the first 2. Theres like 50-75k worth of non-linear, scraps of work across all the 3. If there was any motivation to continue writing it- I'd probably be able to confidently get the first one finished. Perhaps the second. But I've spent all these years hesitating over all the fine details trying to link up Easter eggs, timelines, OCs backstories and all that jazz.

Anyway! Have this 🙃💜

[princesslachimolala]

The 8th Member of Bangtan 💜

•••

Chapter 2 - The Swimming Pool 🏊🏼💧

Synopsis: you (y/n 🦊) are the 8th member of bts and are involved in all the fun and banter with the boys as you work on your music and side projects for army

Pairings: platonic! ot7 x gn! reader

Warnings: kind of angsty, discussions of anxiety and negative self-talk, fear of water (?), Jungkook being protective, y/n is in a bit of a down mood but bangtan manage to cheer them up

Authors note: inspired by the run BTS episode, reader is gender neutral so read the honorifics as they apply to you

Enjoy!✨

•••

“I’m sad” you said aloud in the minibus to no one in particular.

“Ah why are you sad, y/n-ie?” Namjoon was the first to ask in his low, tired voice.

“Because I’m tired and hungry” you replied with a pout.

“You and Jungkook were the last ones to get out of bed and eat the breakfast that I made with my very hands, y/n-ie” Jin looked back towards you with accusing eyes.

“Sorry oppa/hyung” was all you could yawn in reply.

“I love your rice hyung” Jungkook yawned too, also half asleep seated next to you in the van.

“It was just boiled rice JK” Hobi giggled.

“Yeah but when Jin-hyung makes it, it tastes different” Jungkook replied, to which everyone nodded in agreement.

“Do you want to compliment my egg frying abilities too, Kook-ah?” Jin asked.

“Maybe next time you make them hyung…”

“If there will be a next time” Jin rolled his eyes chortling.

“Wha?? No more Jinnie breakfasts??” you implored.

“Aish of course I’ll always cook you breakfast dongsaengies… but you have to eat enough to fill you up or it’s very disrespectful”

There was a round of “sorry Jin hyung/oppa” and then the car fell into comfortable silence as you listened to music. And although you had the body heat of Hobi on one side and Jungkook on the other, something was bothering you and making your nerves feel frazzled.

•••

When you arrived at the pool and changed into your swimming attire, you had thought you might feel more recharged. But all you felt was anxiety swirling in your stomach and it didn’t help that all the boys were pumped up for todays variety show activity and didn’t seem to notice.

The producer announced the first game and you all got into position. You plastered a big smile on for army once the cameras began rolling - you didn’t want them to think there was anything wrong.

The first hurdle? Jumping into the water. You could never do it when you were younger - you always had to find the ladders or slip in while you lowered yourself. So when Jimin pushed Namjoon into the water you felt yourself having cold sweats. Of course, Namjoon was fine, just playing along with the bit of being annoyed.

You cheered up a bit when Yoongi was acting cute in the water after his success but soon it was your turn.

“No one push me please,” you half mumbled as you approached the edge of the pool.

That’s when Jungkook noticed you weren’t your usual self.

“Y/n-ie, are you feeling okay?”

All you could do was nod as you stepped up to the edge of the pool and tried to slip in as gracefully as possible, slightly panicking before your toes found the bottom.

The boys were cheering and talking loudly in the background but the ringing in your ears almost drowned them out. Now you were in the water it wasn’t so bad but you were acutely aware of the entire camera crew on your right hand side filming your every move and facial expression.

“Ah this is too hard!” You tried to joke with a smile but the jenga tower fell under your shaky touch.

This pleased the boys very much - now you were getting the garlic juice punishment much to your dismay.

After everyone took their turn there were 4 losers. You could feel a sting in your eyes from the pool water (or you would blame it on the pool water because you knew it was actually your eyes verging on spilling your overwhelmed tears).

Thankfully, and although you felt sorry for him, tae was the only one that drank the garlic juice as the producer announced to skip to the next game.

However you knew you weren’t going to fare much better in the next challenges - your legs and hands were still shaky and the challenge of standing on the floating mat and unfolding the paper required good balance and deft fingers.

You laughed off your nerves but you really didn’t want to let go of Hobi’s hand as you stood on the mat.

“Yah, y/n-ah that’s cheating you can’t have a helper to balance you!”

“That’s disqualification!”

“Get them garlic juice!”

Despite the rabble and the feeling bubbling up in your chest, you let go of Hobi and tried to do the task but of course you ripped the paper.

You felt very useless having not succeeded in a single game. You knew it was supposed to be fun - just look at the boys and copy them, you told yourself. They were smiling, laughing, clapping for each other and celebrating each other’s losses and were taking it all in good fun. Maybe, you thought, I’m too sensitive for all this. Either that or you just hated games and competitions, especially if it had anything to do with sports.

The camera zoomed up into your face and you prepared to take the garlic.

“Do I have to do it?” You appealed to the group to which they all went with an enthusiastic yes.

“What if I’m allergic to garlic?”

“Yah, y/n-ah you ate Jiminie’s appa’s pickled garlic last week and loved it!”

You were caught out, everyone laughed at your misfortune, though kook looked a little more concerned that the rest. You downed the garlic to get it over with, though it burned on the way down.

The last game was made more difficult by the boys splashing water onto your feet as you tried to balance on the floating mat and perform the task at the same time. You were finding the end of the day a bit more fun though, as you watched tae and Namjoon mischievously shake the cola bottles to make them more fizzy and impossible to pour.

To your surprise the producer went back and forth deciding whether the coke bottle was full enough to pass the challenge. Eventually though you still failed.

Jimin was named the episodes MVP and Jin was named the ultimate loser even though you lost just as many games as him. But upon seeing your nervous expression, Jungkook stood in front of you as if physically shielding you from the producers would make them forget you were there. You gave his hand a little squeeze as a thanks and he squeezed yours back. Jin took a final garlic shot and the filming was over.

•••

Back in the dorms, you were now showered and dry, bundled in your cosy pyjamas and ready to lie down and be alone in the quiet of your room.

You just began to scroll through your phone when a knock came to your door.

“It’s open” you called quietly.

It was Jungkook.

“Are you okay now, noona/hyung?”

“Yes kookie thanks” you gave him a small smile.

“Why were you off today? Was it the water? Are you scared of it or something?” he asked, his big boba eyes imploring you to be truthful.

“I don’t know kook, I’m not usually scared of water but that pool just freaked me out. I know we have to be energetic and play games, and I like seeing you guys messing about, it’s funny but I was just anxious around the water and to perform for the camera today, that’s all”

“I get nervous too, noona/hyung, but I just think about army watching and I get the courage to do my best”

“I did think about army kook, I don’t want them to think I can’t do anything or for them to be disappointed in me” you hung your head as you could feel the tears start to slide.

“Dinner is on its way you two…” Jin stuck his head in the crack of your open door but upon seeing both your expressions he walked fully in.

“What’s going on now? tell hyung/oppa” he asked looking at you with a soft voice.

“I just didn’t feel well today, oppa/hyung” you admitted.

“Aish…” he scolded softly sitting down on another edge of your bed, “you should tell us y/n, then we could’ve rescheduled the filming today”

“But I just wanted to get it over with, the whole thing made me nervous”

“Ah you silly goose, you can go on rollercoasters with us and stand on a stage to sing and dance but a swimming pool is your downfall?”

He didn’t mean it to sound demeaning but you realised how silly it was.

“Sometimes anxiety doesn’t have to have a reason, y/n-ie” Yoongi walked in, apparently having been eaves dropping on the exchange.

“Ah baby petal, it’s okay” Jin patted your head as you still had a glum look on your face.

“what’s wrong with y/n-ie?!” Jimin, Hobi and Tae cooed from the door.

Jungkook recounted the tale and soon everyone (including Namjoon who noted the absence of noise from the livingroom and located the rabble in your room) was piled on your bed.

The door went, alerting everyone to the presence of food and Jimin and Tae volunteered to get up and bring it back.

“We can’t eat in bed everyone has to get up, otherwise y/n will have crumbs and stains with the way we eat”

“Let’s just sit on the floor Jinnie” you suggested and you used the long stool at the end of your bed as a makeshift table and the mountains of pillows on your bed to cushion yourselves against the hard floor.

“Can we watch the avengers pleaseee” Jungkook asked flipping the remote in his hand (somehow he always ended up with the remote even though it was your tv in your room).

“Let y/n choose kook, they’ve had a hard day” Tae suggested.

The maknae gave you the remote while staring at you with his big eyes. You took it without a word and thoughtfully selected through the options while everyone watched what you were going to pick. After less than half a minute of scrolling you picked the Avengers anyway, much to Jungkooks delight.

“Thanks, noona/hyung!”

“Yah, y/n-ie, you’re too soft on him when he calls you with the honorific” Hobi said.

“You’re the same with us, Hobi hyung” jimin chided making Hobi laugh and blush.

“Don’t forget Jin hyung and his baby petal” Namjoon rolled his eyes taking a bite out of meal.

“Armies are catching onto that now you know hyung” Yoongi said before putting his spoon to his lips.

“Don’t forget lil meow meow” Tae laughed.

“Yah that’s what army’s decided to call me, it’s not my fault I have cat-like features” Yoongi said with furrowed brows.

You ate the meal till you were full, under Jins insistence, and fell asleep before the Avengers was even finished. You were thankful to have the boys by your side and the life that you did even if you’re schedule made you nervous sometimes. At the end of the day you were all in it together and you knew they would hold you up while you faced any challenges, the same as you would do for them.

•••

A/n: that was a sappier one and kind of short, but I hope you still enjoyed. Future fics will be on a happier note but it’s nice to explore the softer, more caring side of bangtan’s dynamics too once and a while

[messenger-of-stupidity]

You Must Be This Tall

The amount of research about rollercoaster accidents for this. The amount of copying the transcript I did for this. The amount scrolling through the timeline I did for this. I swear to god if this fails I'm going to lose my shit. (I wouldn't blame you if you didn't read it. It kinda goes from 0-100 real quick. I did get kind of lazy with the end but I didn't want to go as gruesome as the original draft did.

TW: Depictions of roller coaster accident, panic symptoms, shitty friends, copy of transcript for Vincent's Valenweek Flashback Audio, Cursing, Some simping, Angst, Not beta read we die like Vincent's Stranger, GN Listener Character, Listener Character Death, Typos.

Redacted Masterlist

Summary: Come. Come one, come all. You must be this tall to ride this ride, at the carnival. It's all fun and games until somebody falls.

The park was filled with the sounds of life, all kinds. Laughter, screams, too-loud music, carnival games, all of it. Sizzling of overpriced and sugar filled fairground food covered any smell of vomit from the unfortunate participants of the more active rides. 

They wandered amongst their five other friends, all arms looped together to prevent getting lost. The sun was still half above horizon, but the extra lights of the amusement park were activating. The closer they got to the food stands, the stronger the smell of half burnt sugar and grease became. With the wonderful undertone of cigarettes. Yum…

“Hannah! We should get some nachos or something.” One of their friends shouted over the music blasting from a nearby stall. They squinted, searching through the attempts at attention grabbing to seek out the requested food. They were sure one of the food stalls had to sell nachos, even if that wasn’t the main focus. Their own stomach grumbled malcontentedly despite the corn dog they had consumed only half an hour prior. 

“No way! I wanna splurge on sugar. Get all the good shit that we can’t get back home.” Hannah shouted back. They kind of wished that the music would lessen a little bit. Their eardrums were still thrumming from the earlier ride they had all participated in. The group walked past a wailing child and a too-tired father trying to convince the child to leave whatever had them so distraught.

“We coulda gone to Disneyland.” They muttered under their breath. Mike, who held on tightly to their left arm, nudged them with a crooked grin plastered on his lips. The light from the passing sign glinted off of the metal ring locked into the middle of his bottom lip. 

“Don’t be such a sourpuss. Wonderworld is cheaper than Disneyland and it’s got newer attractions.” He answered. They pushed his face away from them with an open palm, even as the corners of their own lips tugged into a grin. He certainly had a point. Two, as it were. Wonderworld was introducing new rides, so the prices were low as they tried to get as much attention as possible. They couldn’t blame the amusement park, but a headache was tapping at the base of their skull. They could suck it up until they got home to take some aspirin though.

“Call me a sourpuss and I’ll shove pizza so far down your throat that not even going on the Surge can force it back up.” They retorted. Mike laughed and linked his hand with theirs to swing it back and forth. It took several minutes of searching before they were able to locate a stall that sold something everyone wanted or could at least settle for eating. 

“What ride should we go on next?” Hannah asked as she bit into some colorful teeth-rotting monstrosity. They shrugged, sucking on the red and white striped straw. Too-sweet slushie lighted on their tastebuds and their pupils dilated a few seconds later as the stream of glucose settled into their bloodstream. An involuntary smile pressed into their lips.

“Let’s see. We already went to the bumper cars, ferris wheel, merry-go-round, and the swinging pirate ship.” Jason said, counting off as he crumpled up a hamburger wrapper, his food settled on a napkin. They watched as the stringed lights reflected off the silver coloring of the waxy paper.

“We need to go on a classic roller coaster.” Mike decided and they pushed their straw around to even out their treat so they could suck it up the straw easier. They were content with letting their friend group decide the next ride, too preoccupied with the current task to actually listen. 

“Which one? There’s Night Stream, Gran Lunda, Raincage, Surge, and Treasure Cyclone.” Terra said, licking the salt from her fries from her fingers. They missed the glance that Mike sent towards them, as well as the devious smiles that spread over the rest of their friend group’s face. It took Mia nudging them to get their attention.

“Huh? Did we decide on something?” They asked, licking their lips with their stained tongue. 

“It’s Valentines Day tomorrow.” Mike said, lips twisted into a smirk. They nodded slowly, not sure they really liked where this was heading. “And the only single here, you need to live wildly before the reminder day.” I have a bad feeling about this. “So we dare you to go on a ride by yourself to commiserate.” He finished. They set the drink down.

“Which one? The spinning one?” They asked, brow creasing. Hannah shook her head.

“The Surge.” She answered. They stood up from where they sat, eyes surveying the park to seek out which ride had been dubbed as such. The smile dropped from their face as they caught sight of the lit up sign in front of an steep arch of track. Their stomach clenched painfully and the headache felt closer.

“Nuh-uh. No way.” They said, shaking their head quickly sitting back down. Jason groaned and tossed the rolled up wrapper in their direction. 

“Don’t be a pussy. Just go on it.” He drawled. They sent him a glare and shook their head again. Hannah laughed alongside Mike. They tried to ignore the ache of hurt that raced through them at the same speed they were sure the coaster car would go down the decline. 

“I don’t like rollercoasters like that.” They whispered, but the words were lost under the sounds surrounding them. 

They protested throughout the entire journey towards the wait queue. Mike pushed them towards the line and they shuffled towards it, each step feeling too heavy. The music seemed to fade into the far background as their ears filled with the sound of their heartbeat and the rollercoaster in front of them. The chugging machinery and clanking ride chains that pulled the carts along at a hurtling speed. The screams seemed more terror filled than adrenaline rushed to their ears. Oh god oh god oh god.

“Well you look terrified.” A friendly voice sounded next to their ear. They turned around quickly to see who the offender had been. A boy that seemed close to their age held his hands in front of him in surrender, a laugh dancing on his voice. “Sorry. I’m not trying to call you out or anything but…” Their gaze sharpened, even as their knees felt weak. “I-I-I mean, you kind of do.” He finished, hands dropping. They swallowed, their throat dry.

“It’s that obvious, huh?” They said, calling out over the sound of the fast-paced music and the announcer’s voice. 

“I mean, if you don’t mind me asking, if you are terrified of the ride… then why are you gonna ride on it? Alone no less.” He asked, hands sliding into his hoodie pocket. They wondered if they should really share the stupid reason their friends had provided for making them go on this bloody ride.

“My friends dared me to go.” They said, simplifying and shortening the explanation down. No need to dump on a stranger.

“Ah. Gotcha.” He said, nodding his head sagely. “No offense, but your friends kind of sound like assholes for daring you then. Where are they?” He asked. They raised an arm, pointing to where the five other members of their friend group stood, giggling amongst themselves. Assholes indeed.

“They’re just watching.” They mumbled, the sound of metal on metal racing overhead making them cringe. The stranger followed their hand.

“Is that them over there?” He asked. They nodded in confirmation and dropped their upraised arm. “Dicks.” He added, coaxing a small laugh from them. He looked back, eyes brighter at the sound and continued. “It’s all good. You’ll show them, and then you can tell them they’re the scared ones for trying to make you do it alone.” He paused, almost looking sheepish for a half second. “Plus you’re not alone. You got me.” 

Warmth rushed up their neck and tickled the tips of their ears. He sounded so heartfelt. “What about you? Did your friends do something of the same?” They asked hurriedly, spurring a chuckle to leave his lips.

“No. I’m-I’m I’m kind of the opposite. I’m the only one of my friends who wanted to ride on this one again.” He said, shrugging. They stared at him. Again? He wanted to go AGAIN? Oh my god. “So they’re all over on the other side of the park.”

“Other… side?” They said slowly. Them and their friends had been lingering in one main area of the park, not having fully wandered through to explore. Probably not the most efficient or whatever, but in the beginning it had just been so exciting.

“Yeah. They’re fucking around in that um, that big gift shop near the entrance until I’m done,” They could recall seeing that on the rushed entrance in. Maybe they should see if there was anything worth taking back home as a souvenir. If it was still open by the time they left. “But I really liked the ride. I wanted to do it one last time before we head out.” So he’s nuts. Why are all the pretty ones nuts?

And he was pretty. His smile right now was sympathetic, but the way his lips curved into it was almost contagious. If fear wasn’t making their stomach feel cold - and not from the slushie earlier - they probably would have been smiling back at him. 

“I mean, we drove a long way to get here so…” His voice said, leaving the sentence open-ended.The queue moved forward, pulling them closer to the coaster and they inhaled sharply. The stranger quickly started up speaking again. “And the line’s finally short now that the park’s getting ready to close,” Yeah. Not exactly a great thing in my book, handsome stranger. “Plus I get to ride it in the dark which is pretty cool.” Definitely not a great thing in my book. He chuckled again. If it had been a full laugh it would have probably allured a giggle from their throat.

“It’s that fun that you’d want to ride it in the dark?” They said, doubt coloring their words more than a three year old with a marker and a blank wall. He shrugged again, his posture relaxing further.

“Well I mean… I-I loved it. I thought it was an awesome ride.” Considering his definition of cool or fun, they were pretty sure that they wouldn’t think the same. Their shoulder hunched up and he spoke up again, pulling their attention back to his words and face. Lovely face. “What part of roller coasters scares you? Like is it something specific like loops, or heights, or-“ 

“All of it. Everything.” They interrupted, voice rush and pitched an octave higher as the line drew them closer to the ride.

“Or all of it. Okay.” He laughed again. That made it a little better. Just a little. “Well, I’m not gonna lie… you’re probably not gonna have a great time then.” Really Captain obvious? “It’s a lot.” He added. They gaped up at the twists and turns of metal tracks above and decided that was the understatement of the fucking year. His voice pulled their focus back.

“I-I mean… I mean personally I’m not huge on, like, drops. Like… like I hate those drop rides. The ones that just go up and down so um…” He paused for a second to consider before going on. He was talkative, huh? “So-So the first drop you go over is kind of scary. I mean, for me at least because it’s-it’s really vertical.” 

They looked back up at the roller coaster and the tall arch near the station. They were pretty sure the gulp they made was audible, even over the ambience. 

“I mean, it feels like it’s like… ninety degrees. So it kind of feels like one of those rides… for a sec, when you come over the crest of the hill.” Was it difficult to breath or was that just them? “But I mea, then the feeling goes away almost immediately because then you’re like, facing the direction you’re going if that makes sense.” They looked at him, their expression pained. Words seemed to get caught in their throat. “Like, you’re not dropping. I mean like… you’re, like, facing the ground as you head towards it.” I think I’m going to be sick.

“This does not seem to be helping. Okay. I’ll shut up.” He said, laughing. The corners of their lips twitched in response, but they couldn’t muster a full smile. Not even for social obligation. “Hey, you can look at it this way. I mean, this is the biggest, baddest rollercoaster this park has to offer so once you’ve ridden it, you’ve won. You know? You cut the thing off at the head.” Like a hydra. Except once you cut the head off of a hydra, more sprout up in its place. It’s never-ending. Like my panic and dread over this. “Have any of your friend ridden it?” He asked.

“No.” They croaked out, their hands growing clammy. “We were trying to figure out our next ride when they had their brilliant dare.” Sarcasm at its finest. He laughed at the words and they attempted a smile again, although were more that doubtful about their level of success in the endeavor.

“Well see, now you get to be the one who says you actually rode it. Plus since they’re not going, they don’t get to see how bad it scares you.” They straightened a little at that, considering his words. The stranger seemed to notice because he continued on, a smile on his face and in his voice. “Yeah, so when you walk out of the exit and march up to them, you just put on that confident mask and you rub it in their face.” They were more confident in their smile at this attempt.

“If I walk out. I’ll likely die before I get that chance.” They replied cheekily, provoking another laugh.

“Come on, what do you mean if you walk out? Nothing bad’s gonna happen.” Famous last words, but whatever you say. “Rollercoasters have been around forever,” Only since July 8th, 1817. Not quite ‘forever’ in the grand scheme of things. But continue on, handsome stranger. “It’s almost never been an accident. I mean, you were a million times more likely to get hurt on the drive over to the park than anything here. Least of all this ride.” They cocked an eyebrow doubtfully, but didn’t interrupt him.

“I mean, it’s new so it’s got all the latest safety crap,” Not crap. It’s useful. “You’re fine. I mean, honestly, usually the only time people get hurt on rides is because they did something stupid like… taking off the belt or standing up or something. It’s almost always the person’s fault. Not the ride.” He was a ride apologist through and through. “You know, just keep your hands, arms, feet, and legs inside the car at all times. You got this, I promise.” 

The line moved closer and the car, now filled, set down the track. Their breath suddenly turned shallower. The stranger nudged their arm gently with his elbow, moving closer and lowering his voice a little.

“Come on. You can’t let them see you’re scared. You know they’re looking.” It was a goad, and it worked. At least their spite was firmly in place, even amongst their fear, dread, and rising panic. They rubbed at their face, and when they dropped their hands they changed their expression. Brows pulled down into a determined line and a shaky smile cemented onto their lips. “There we go.”

“Any better? Am I radiating confidence like an old leaky radiator supplies water damage to hardwood flooring?” They said, their voice as quiet as they could manage while still letting the stranger hear them.

“Yes. You look very confident.” He said, another laugh spilling from his curved lips. They snickered along side him. “From a distance away. I mean, you still look terrified in the eyes, but hey. They can’t see that far, so that’s okay.” He took a step back to dodge the kick they sent towards his boots.

“Hey.. I don’t mean to make this more awkward. But, if you’re able…” Their voice trailed off as their gaze dropped the the ground beneath their feet and the littered garbage sprinkled along it.

“Yeah I’ll ride with you.” He said, easily picking on the unfinished request. They lifted their head again, the smile this time not an attempt at projecting faux confidence, but rather grateful. “I mean, we’re both single riders. You know… might as well.” 

“Oh! Since you’re the resident Surge expert, how big are the rows? I’m guessing it’s two. Unless you’re fucking with me.”

“Yeah it’s-it’s a two-seat wide one,” Oh thank fuck. If I was going to need to sit next to a real stranger while freaking out about the ride, that would make it so much worse. At least he’ll have some warning of my impending freak out. “Which is such a pain in the ass if you come here with three people.” My group is six people in total… “You have to keep rotating who gets stuck next to a stranger. If. Sometimes you end up riding solo. I mean, it depends how busy the line is and stuff.”

They glanced back at the remainder of the line behind them - they didn’t want to see how close the loading station was to them by now - and the chances of someone near the end riding solo in one of the two-seat rows seemed likely. They felt bad for that person if they shared the same fear.

“Sounds like you have experience with that as well.” They mumbled. He nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here with two of my friends. And they’re a couple, so I have the please of not only third wheeling in general, but uh then also having to break up the happy couple seating wise everything I’m sick and tired of sitting by myself.” There was a small tinge of bitterness in his jovial tone. Which was the most bitter they had heard him. Even when insulting their friends. But they inhaled sharply at the awkward interactions and experiences he must have been having to deal with throughout the evening and night.

“I’m sorry. That must suck ass.” They said, glad to be the one giving sympathy for once in this conversation. He laughed again.

“No, they’re good with it. I’m just bitching. I mean, they’re both my friends and they were before they started dating, so we’re all good,” That still didn’t necessarily alleviate the awkwardness. “But still, I feel like they should be able to sit next to each other most of the time since they are, in fact, together.” He shrugged his shoulders, hands now fidgeting with his hoodie strings. 

Their gaze dropped to watch the soft flexing of the tendons under his skin and the liquid movements of his fingers as it pressed into the tightly stitched together fabric of the strings. Damn, he had nice hands…

“Still sounds awkward though. But I get it. I’m the single friend in my friend group too.” They replied and his head quickly bobbed in a nod of agreement.

“Yeah, these places are really only made for couples… or families, I guess. But even then, you better have an even number or you’re still fucked,” Wait… why is the line moving faster? “Some parks do have that single rider line thing, but then you don’t end up on the same cycle as your friends so then you’re having to wait for them,” Oh god. The next cycle is us, isn’t it? I don’t want to be here. Please don’t make me be here. I should have stayed home. Fuck this shit. “Or they’re having to wait for you which, I mean, isn’t a big deal I guess… but I don’t know.” He sighed. I don’t want to go on the next cycle. Why can’t the park close before it’s our turn? Will it close before our turn? Please close. Please. 

“It’s not working, is it?” He said, voice a mix of teasing and disappointment. They turned to face him.

“What isn’t?” They asked, hands twisting together. He gestured towards the coaster ahead.

“Me trying to distract you by talking.” He said. As if it was the most obvious thing in the world. A laugh bubbled out of their throat. It sounded a little strangled, but he matched it nonetheless. “I’m trying. I’m sorry.” He said, humor still dancing on his voice. They liked the way that his laugh seemed to hold little dance parties on his tongue when he spoke. It was endearing.

“The closer we keep getting to the front of the line, the more panicked you look.” What was less endearing was the way he kept consistently calling them out without a moment of reprieve. “It’s okay. Really. I mean, you might even have fun,horrific a thought as that might be.” He wasn’t able to dodge the light shove they sent at him and he laughed again. “I mean, hey. Who knows? This could be the way you find out that you’re secretly an adrenaline junkie.” A snort pulled oxygen in, painfully scraping their trachea.

“I think you’re projecting.” They replied, crossing their arms over their chest. Their hands gripped the fabric of their fleece-lined sweater that protected them from the biting chill of early-mid February. 

“I mean, I used to be terrified at rollercoasters.” He added. Their head snapped towards him quickly, eyes wide and full of questioning doubt. He nodded sagely. “Yeah. As a kid I-I would not go on them. I was, I was a hellion about it too. I mean, I would make a scene, I’d cry, I’d scream. I was literally the kid in line for the matterhorn like, saying to my mom,” His voice raised slightly in pitch to represent a more juvenile version of himself as he added vocal shakes. Committing to the bit. I respect it. “‘if you love me, you won’t make me ride on this.’ Like, I was awful. The literal worst. Like, seriously. I mean, they save up all this money to finally take us on vacation and I have a hissy fit in the line of a ride that isn’t even bad.” A part of them wondered if he was a storyteller in his spare time, or in his normal time, as giggle after snort came from the mental image of a smaller version of the hot guy in front of them throwing a fit with snot and tears running down his face because of a kiddie ride. 

“Oh! And that was the biggest one you were going to get me on. There was no way in hell I was going on anything that had a big drop. Or, god forbid, a loop. Like, no way. It was not happening.” He finished, laughing alongside them. They almost didn’t notice the way the line was starting to inch a little bit closer to the ride entrance.

“But now you like rollercoasters. What changed?” It was kind of difficult to fully believe this absolute maniac who wanted to go on the Surge for a second time in the dark, had such a strong revulsion to rollercoasters just… stopped one day. Something must have occurred to change his mind.

“Well, I just avoided them the whole time I was growing up,” Sounds familiar. “I didn’t go to amusement parks very often, so I mean, it wasn’t a huge deal either way. But then, senior year of high school rolled around. And my group of friends wanted to go on a trip that summer. To, you know, celebrate us graduating. And, um, they all agreed on going to a rollercoaster park. Like, not just an amusement park. Like one that pretty much exclusively has roller coasters,” Oh hell to the no. “But, I mean, I wasn’t gonna be the one to say no. I mean, I really didn’t want them to make fun of me or anything so… I went along with it and I didn’t tell a single one of them that I was terrified of rollercoasters.” He shrugged.

“Although I’m sure they could tell by the time we got there. I mean, I was shaking like a leaf in the line for the first time. But then… I rode it. And yeah, there were parts that were scary and I hated. Like that initial climb that felt like it was never going to end. And then that first… drop.” A slight scoff colored the last word. Huh. He really doesn’t like the first drop. That wasn’t just a ploy to seem relatable and so that it didn’t look like he was pitying me. “But… but then I had a great time. Wind in your hair, flipping around, going that fast. It was fun.” His gaze turned a little more serious than it had been so far as he stared into their own eyes. They forgot to breath for a second.

“So that initial fear is always there. Even now for a little bit. But then it’s just a good time. I mean, now  I love them. You might just surprise yourself.” They are already shaking their head before he finished the sentence.

“Don’t get your hopes up. I’m probably going to vomit once it’s over. Fair warning.”

“Hey, if you don’t and you absolutely hate it, then you can just tell your friends to fuck off and you’ll at least have this one under the belt. Which is more than any of them can say.” They nodded slowly and looked back towards the front of the line… their stomach and heart immediately dropped as they were created with the carts directly ahead of them. 

“Oh fuck.”

“Hey. You got this.” He said, voice closer to their ear and a warm hand in the middle of their back. A reassuring presence and a coaxing nudge. “Come on. Let’s do this.”

Their movements felt stiff as they walked across the path to the cart, their heart having jumped too far up and now firmly lodged in their throat. They sat down, tears already watering in the lower half of their vision.

“See? Seatbelts. There’s roll bars. You’re not going anywhere. It’s the last ride of the night and then you get to go tell your friends that they’re wimps for not going with you.” They nodded stiffly, body going cold with panic. “It’s gonna be fun. Even if the ride isn’t, that part will be.” Another stiff nod. They were pretty sure that their body was breaking out in a cold sweat. Was it too late to climb out?

“Hey.” He poked their shoulder gently and they turned their head to look at him. “Do you want to hold my hand? Nobody will see it over the walls of the car. It can be out secret.” They were entirely sure he could see the tears they stubbornly refused to let fall. His expression had softened from gentle teasing and sympathy to just flat out concern. They nodded again, teeth digging into their bottom lip. “Okay. When it feels like it’s too much, just… squeeze, okay?” His hand was warm in theirs. And if their palm was sweaty or clammy, he made no mention of it. His fingers curled between their own as his thumb rubbed small circles on the knuckle of their own thumb. They took a deep, shuddering inhale. “I got you.” He murmured. They tried to swallow around the lump in their throat.

“Can I get a smile?” He asked, voice shifting back to the jovial teasing tone he had adopted earlier. They tried to remember how and replicate the muscle memory. It was an obvious fail from the laugh that egressed from him. “Kind of more of a grimace, but I’ll take it… my name’s Vincent, by the way.” And miraculously the kind and attractive stranger, had been blessed with a name. They offered theirs in return, their voice just as shaky as the rest of them. 

“N-Nice to meet you.” They added after a small pause.

“Nice to meet you too. One last ride, right?” He said, his own hand giving their’s a gentle squeeze.

“One last ride.” They breathed and the ride operator’s voice came out over the speakers installed.

“Just a friendly reminder that the park will be closing in about forty-five minutes, so please keep that in mind when choosing your next ride.” He kind of sounds like an angsty news anchor. And there was never any hope in the park closing before my turn came for this ride. Dammit. “An approximate wait time is listed on signage at the end of the queue. One last reminder before we get going, keep your hands, arms, feet, and legs inside the car at all times,” They glanced over at Vincent to see him mouthing along to the words. He sent them a wink as he continued and they smiled back at him. Probably still shaky though. “This is a fast flipping freak of a ride,” I don’t want to be here. “We want to make sure you all enjoy it safely. Make sure all bags, hats, sunglasses, loose items are secured and that your belt is fastened tightly.” He does not sound like he wants to be here. Something in common. I wonder how many times he’s said that tonight.

They pulled the strap of their belt until it was practically pinching and digging into their skin. A few different attendants were wandering amongst the cat, checking everything. Vincent was smiling.

“Check one?”

“Check.”

“Check Two?”

“Check!”

“Alright alright, here we go. Have fun you guys and enjoy your ride on the might Surrrge.” 

The screech of the metal brake releasing had them jumping. That sense of dread was starting to feel like lead in their gut. The ride chains clanked as the cars began to rise up the initial incline. They were already squeezing Vincent’s hand as gravity pulled at their shoulders and pressed them against the seat.

“I don’t want to do this.” They whispered. Vincent squeezed their hand back.

“It’ll be over before you know it. Promise.” He said. They squeezed their eyes shut, feeling hot tears slipping down their temples as their nose and throat burned. The car stalled near the top, and they forced their eyes open, immediately wishing they hadn’t. The people below seemed so tiny and the ground was so very very far away. 

“Please no. Oh god, please no.” They said, voice shaking. The drop had a scream of terror ripping free from their lips. The kind of scream that tore your throat raw and pushed all air from your lungs. The kind of scream that had your abdomen tightening painfully. The scrape of the well worn tracks below the cart wheels was barely audible over the pounding in their ears and the wind stinging their eyes and skin. Their free hand gripped the roll bar with white knuckles. I’m going to die. I’m going to fucking die. 

There was something final about that thought. As if their mind accepted it. They looked over at Vincent, his hair pushed back from his face and eyes wide with a sense of delight they couldn’t understand. A grin was plastered to his face, even as his hand remained in their own. Please don’t let go of me. Please don’t let me die.

A whimper and a gasp left their lips as the cars twisted into a swirl, approaching the loop-de-loop up ahead. Something’s going to go wrong. I can tell. They could see their friends waving and laughing below, pointing to the car they sat in. They couldn’t make out what they were shouting, but they could see Hannah miming making out. Was she talking about Vincent. The car started the quick ascent up the loop. 

Time slowed. Or the car did. No… it was the car. The sound of the ride chains clanking along side them slithered to a stop at the very height of the loop. Blood was starting to rush to their head.

“V-Vincent?” They said, too scared to move. 

“What’s going on?” They could hear him whisper. They tightened their grip on his hand. The air seemed to still. I’m going to die. Their mind felt empty except for that one thought. It was like it was outline and illuminated by the flashing bulbs so favored at amusement parks. Shouting started from below, as well as a few cries. Someone started to scream as the sound of metal groaned. 

Why wasn’t the car moving? Their head was starting to really fucking hurt. Breathing was getting difficult.

“Vincent, I’m scared.” They said, their voice sounding far away over the pumping in their ears. Vincent didn’t answer. Their hand was starting to ache from how tight they were both holding onto each other. 

Then there was a snap. A screech of metal. Gravity didn’t exist anymore and there were a lot more screams. Pressure pushed down on their head, shoulders, neck, and spine. The ground was growing closer. Too close. There was part of the track in the way. 

They were going to hit it. Oh god, they were going to hit it. I’m going to die.

The park was filled with all sounds of life. Screaming, metal tearing, sirens blaring, running footsteps, sobbing.

And the footsteps of a man who had lived long enough to see many horrors, quietly dragged away a boy that still held on tightly to a hand to someone that no longer had a head or a life.

[bluecoolr]

For Life Or Until Fault

Alt Timeline 2.0 - Darrell x Odile Part 3

Warnings: MINORS DNI! Main characters are slasher ocs!

Darrell is mine ♡

Odile belongs to @solmints-messyocdiary

In protest, Darrell went ahead and took the day off. He had confronted Ilya about what the boy had revealed the day before. His response?

"What happened to our former employees is of no concern to you. Do what we ask, if you want the checks to keep coming."

Darrell had slammed the guardhouse door closed. He came home and decided a bath might help. The manor house's dilapidated bathroom was Georgian, with its indulgent spaciousness and crescent four-footed tub. It reminded him of the sanatorium baths, of Sister Agatha combing his wet hair, snipping off the ends to keep it manageable.

Darrell had insisted on cold baths - even in winter, which baffled Sister Agatha. Presently, he lay down in the bath, submerged to his ears, a face floating on the surface as he stared at the crumbling plaster ceiling rose.

Cold water for blood, he thought in a voice that wasn't his own. He sat up, weary of such unsettling pieces that seemed to swim up from his forgotten past.

He got out of the tub and drained the soapy water. He tracked wet footprints on the wooden floorboards and slipped silently into his clothes. He loaded a cassette into his Walkman - Led Zeppelin - and decided to go for a walk.

He could hear Ilya scream at him when he passed through the gate. "Where do you think you're going?! Get back here!"

Darrell kept walking. A kilometer. Then another, and he found himself in town. The afternoon bell chimed in the church steeple, overpowering the tinny mechanical clock that jutted up from the courthouse roof. Darrell shielded his eyes as he walked past the church. A gaggle of school girls in pleated skirts shuffled by, their glances lingering on him.

They followed him around, which made him uncomfortable. After a quick round of shopping. He sat down at a cafe's outdoor table, taking his time with a warm slab pie. He pretended not to notice the girls, keeping his eyes on the golden apple cuts wedged between the pastry.

Just before their ringleader went up to take the vacant seat across from him, he felt tiny hands on his shoulder and a low "Boo!"

The boy from the graveyard laughed and sat down. "Thought I recognized you," he said, swinging his feet.

Darrell smiled, thankful for the intervention and the company. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

"I don't go. Grandpa's pension isn't enough to pay." The boy was pressing random buttons on Darrell's Walkman.

"So, what do you do?"

"I work."

Darrell was suddenly hit by a wave of sorrow. The boy's fingernails were caked in dirt. There was a dark ring of swear on his t-shirt collar. "What kind of work?"

"There's this rich lady in the best part of town. I get paid a little to help out in her garden."

Darrell figured, what with the muddy carrots he had plopped on the table. Probably came from the same garden he worked on, and the worst out of the pick. "You want something to eat?" he asked.

He bought the kid hot food and a cold drink. He was halfway done with the frothy pink milkshake when they heard a grizzled old man's voice. "Sacha!"

Apparently, Sacha had been due for home for about an hour. How, in God's name, did he expect to make the chicken-carrot soup without the carrots?

The chicken-carrot soup turned out to be mostly carrot, Darrell discovered. A single cube of chicken bouillon provided the idea of chicken.

Grandpa had invited Darrell for supper once Sacha introduced. "He saw the samodiva, Papa," Sacha had whispered.

"Be careful, boy," the old man said between spoonfuls of soup. "Samodivas are hostile. You're in grave danger."

"Why's that, sir?"

Grandpa nearly choked on the broth. "Why, samodivas are vile enchantresses! Men who lay eyes on a samodiva fall instantly and madly in love."

A memory. Strange. Distant. Like a dream. The most beautiful face he had ever seen. Cool cheeks. Golden hair.

"Sometimes," continued Grandpa, "a samodiva would seduce a man, take him for her lover. She would pull from him his life's energy. He would become obsessed - a slave to her every whim. With that same energy, the samodiva would milk him dry until he died of exhaustion."

Sacha listened attentively, completely aware that he was hearing something he wasn't supposed to.

"You're virile. They'll definitely covet you."

Darrell's face was a deep shade of red. A sharp jingling startled him. Sacha had produced the string of sleigh-bells he had bought earlier. "What's this?" asked the child, "Are you decorating for Christmas already?"

The two men ignored the question. Grandpa leaned in and sternly told him, "Stay away from the woods. Don't go looking for her."

Grandpa dutifully offered to give him a lift back to the cemetery. Apparently, he did minimal delivery work. "Vegetables and such. Never 10 kilometers from town."

"You're sure it's no trouble?" asked Darrell, feeling very embarrassed.

"Of course! Besides, I want to see if my daughter's grave is still intact."

Sacha fell asleep during the drive, lulled by U2's "With or Without You" playing on Darrell's Walkman. Grandpa looked at him fondly as he slept leaning against Darrell's chest.

"We lost his mother when he was very young," Grandpa explained, "His father ran off when he was younger."

Darrell held Sacha closer, rubbing the pad of his thumb over and over his shoulder.

They parked on the shoulder of the road a couple of feet from the cemetery gate.

"I can't leave him in the truck. I'll have to wake him up."

Darrell told him no. "It's fine." He carried Sacha in his arms. "I'll walk you to her grave."

There was a wet, appreciative glimmer in the old man's eyes. He paused and finally nodded at the gesture. "Alright."

Darrell left Sacha - coat pocket stuffed with lei - with Grandpa and returned to the manor house.

Isabelle was frantic by the time he walked through the door. He bent down to pet her and produced the cord of bells. He shook them and Isabelle's ears pricked up.

Pleased, Darrell said, "Atta girl. Now, let's see if I can train you to track the sound."

Darrell befriended the gravedigger soon after, and asked him to tie a string of sleigh-bells around the waist of new corpses up for burial.

A/N: leu (pl. lei) -> Moldovan currency

[cruelprincae]

The soft-spoken words of reassurance are met with a smile on Cardan's end ― a brittle, ghost-like, barely visible smile from the way the muscles of his jaw have tensed, but a smile nonetheless. Slender and bejewelled digits reach to take his wife's calloused hand in his own ― and much in contrast to his, bare of any and all jewels save from their wedding ring that he had ever so slyly rested upon her ring finger on their day of wedlock ― as he presses a tender kiss upon its very top, his lips soft against the warmth of her skin, and black eyes gaze up at the High Queen of Faerie with both longing, appreciation and unequivocal exhaustion; The latter, most likely for that he is still recovering from the blunt trauma of the iron blade buried in the centre of his torso as well as the restless thoughts swirling within his mind like a group of aggravated sprites.

There are so many obligations to tend to and even more underlying conspiracies he ought to finally regard, particularly after the last held coup, in which several of his late brother's, Dain, fanatics attempted his murder solely to put Oak on the throne ― one of the conspirators being his own mother, should Roach's intell stand corrected ( which they rarely are not ).

He knows not how to address this, let alone approach the subject. Alas, Jude is right; He needs not to think of everything by himself ― not any more, at least. They will figure out everything together, as they have often done, as they do, and as they shall always do.

❛ Valiant as always, my love. ❜ Muses Cardan from where he rests against the thick, furred cushions of the low couch. Drawing the brunette on his lap, delicate digits come to grasp at both of her cheeks ― cheeks, that now echo with an air of hollowness and sharpness, much despite their normal roundness. And to add to it, the once full, chocolate hues are now plastered with the cast shadows of dark circles beneath them, as though she has lined them with kohl and ever so carelessly whipped the shade away. Even so, she remains beautiful and captivating enough to make his heart thunder. ❛ Have you not slept ? I hardly ever see you visit our bed. Do not tell me you have drowned yourself in court politics for I might stab myself this time around. ❜

@cruelprincae asked: 💬

SEND ME 💬, AND I’LL USE A LINE FROM A SENTENCE MEME I’VE REBLOGGED TO MAKE A STARTER FOR YOU. fourth wing ask meme (part 1)

"The right way isn’t the only way." Madoc taught her that, the right way wasn't the only way. It was kind of her unspoken mantra. She was a human in the fae world, she supposed at the end of the day being raised as a daughter of a fae wasn't the right way of things either, even if she had just been an obligation to Madoc because of Vivi and their mother. "We'll figure this out. Together." while both of them seemed to have contrasting ideas ninety percent of the the time, there was nothing they couldn't do when they put their heads together. The were a team, for better or for worse. Probably worse if you asked Roach.

[miralme]

Lowes round plaster ring

#LOWES ROUND PLASTER RING FREE#

Malleable iron castings mate with components perfectly without strain or. Whats people lookup in this blog: Saw a thread about this earlier, can’t find it now. Patented split gland-ring designed to stop on conduit for speedy installation. Anyway, there is a shortage of 1 gang old work boxes. They have a screw, which turns a little lever flap. Step down feature allows for wire entrance in both top and bottom of box. Pvc old work shallow electrical switch/outlet boxĪfter pulling out the work box for the single switch that was previously there, i discovered that the there is only remove enough for a box that is about 1 1/2 inches deep. Smart box original 1 gang device box item#: Raco 1 gang gray steel old work shallow round ceiling electrical. Shop ceiling medallions & rings and a variety of lighting & ceiling fans products online at. Smart box original 1 gang device box item#: Whats people lookup in this blog: It is great for adding fixtures and outlets without disturbing the drywall, plaster or insulation in your home. The reason they make boxes in 4 gang deep is to allow for wire fill and device fill, since most of the time a 4 gang. Delta Valdosta Satin Nickel Wall Mount Towel Ring. Using the new work boxes is obvious, you just hammer in the two nails jutting on the side. The round base feature along with the elegant design elements present. You can hang rings or wire from two hooks on the wall. 2 Find the D-Rings on the Back On the back of the mirror you'll probably see D-rings or a wire. Note: Enlist a helper if the mirror is heavy. RACO 1Gang Silver Steel New Work/Old Work Standard Box Mark the wall near the center of the top edge with a pencil or painter's tape. How is that going to secure a gang box to the stud? It is great for adding fixtures and outlets without disturbing the drywall, plaster or insulation in your home.

#LOWES ROUND PLASTER RING FREE#

Compare products, read reviews & get the best deals Price match guarantee + FREE shipping. They have a screw, which turns a little lever flap.ġ Gang Old Work Box Lowes - Arlington tvbu507 electrical and low voltage mounting box triple gang new old work for old and new work allows you to mount lcd and plasma tvs, and other system components flush against the wall. Shop Electrical Boxes top brands at Lowes Canada online store. 1 Gang Old Work Box Lowes Mounts to wood or 25 gauge metal stud. If the new outlet is a simple circuit extension, there will likely be just one cable running from the last outlet location to the new box location. Using the new work boxes is obvious, you just hammer in the two nails jutting on the side. At first, it is needed to apply the plaster patching compound to the deep. 1 Gang Old Work Box Lowes - Saw a thread about this earlier, can’t find it now. Turn your work often or walk around your painted furniture to look for runs.

[mgmttrust]

Lowes round plaster ring

Metallic device boxes and device plaster rings have not been investigated for support of a ceiling fixture unless marked for use in ceilings, walls, and with the weight of the product to be supported. A box, with or without a bracket or bar hanger, intended for support of a fixture weighing more than 50 lbs is marked with the weight of the fixture to be supported. It just seems that there should be some entry that directly addresses this to prevent any possible misinterpretation of the matter.Ī box, with or without a bracket or bar hanger, intended for support of a fixture weighing 50 lbs or less is marked "FOR FIXTURE SUPPORT" on the carton to indicate that the box is intended for fixture support. I suppose it could be argued that since The UL White Book only references device boxes and device plaster rings, not ceiling boxes and round plaster rings, then by default they are allowed to be used in ceiling applications for fixture support. I have searched the 2008 UL White Book up and down and can only find the following statements posted below regarding this. That's what I was hoping to here, but would really like to have something in writing just in case it ever comes up as an issue on a job. The 6 pound limit you refer to is for 'old work' boxes, where the box is supported by the drywall, rather than by being attached to a framing member. The UL "White Book" does a better job.Īny securely attached metal box with a metal plaster ring - of any style - is good for supporting fixtures to 50 pounds. Of course, that's no surprise the NEC does not directly address the issue, despite there being some imcomplete references. I think that you've mixed up a few things. and UL listing.ģ14.20 passively mentions setback of plaster rings in walls and ceilings, but that is all.ģ14.27 refers back to 314.27 and the exception to 314.27 simply mentions plaster rings only on boxes used for support on Utilization Equipment under 6-pounds, which as I understand refers to things like smoke detectors, occupancy sensors, etc. The rings themselves don't have much info on them either other than Cu. The UL white book only seems to mention box extensions and device boxes with plaster rings similar to the exception to 314.27, but nothing about plaster rings used with ceiling boxes for luminarie support. I can't seem to find any direct reference in the NEC regarding the use of these with a ceiling box when used for lumunaire support. In the past, I have used round metal and nonmetallic plaster rings on 4-square and nail-on ceiling boxes respectively for supporting light fixtures before the 2008 NEC without issue, but I am no longer sure if this is an approved use for these plaster rings.Īre they now relegated to use for wall mount fixtures and utilization equipment under 6-pounds?ĭo these meet the requirements of 314.27 when used with new work ceiling boxes?

[wordsfromthesol]

The Set-Up

Author: @wordsfromthesol Taglist: @zphilophobiaz @anousiemay @malfoys-demigod @pricetagofficial Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: You are Dinah's younger sister. Word Count: 2,410 A/N: I know it’s been awhile so if anyone wants on/off a taglist just let me know!

"Alright, Roy, you got me here. What's so important?" You called out as you stumbled into what the Outlaws deemed a safehouse. Their standards were pretty low.

"We needed a fourth, okay! Go get Jason and I'll brief everyone." Roy hurried you out of the room that he and Kory were already set up in. You sauntered up to the closed door and knocked.

"Jason, you decent?" You shouted as your fist rapped against the wood.

"Well I'm not morally decent, but I'm wearing pants if that's what you're asking. Though I can be without pants if that's what you prefer --" Jason's voice trailed off as he swung open the door and was met with your face. Clearly, he figured the person on the other side would be Roy or Kory. His face slightly reddened as he reached back and grabbed a shirt.

"I mean…maybe not right now. Roy needs to go over the mission with us." You winked at his obvious embarrassment before trotting off in the direction you came from. Jason quickly caught up with you.

"I…uh…I didn't know Roy asked you for help."

"Yeah he didn't really tell me much. Just that you guys needed a fourth. Not sure why he thinks I'll make that much of a difference.

"Guess we should go find out." Jason raced past you, hoping to avoid further embarrassment, but stopped dead in his tracks as he entered the living room. Roy and Kory were both staring at him, trying to hold back fits of laughter. "What is this all-important mission Y/N was recruited on?" He asked in an attempt to redirect their attention. You walked in behind Jason just in time to get the answer.

"Not really all-important…" Roy's voice reeked of mischief, "just better to have four than three. Then we can do two teams."

"You do know that I have my own agenda. I'm not just sitting around waiting for your call."

"Oh Y/N/N! Don't think of it like that, I practically begged him to ask you. I seriously need some more girl time." Kory piped in to release some of the building tension.

"Uh-huh, sure. Roy, what are we doing?"

"Right. Human trafficking, finally got a hit on this group. Think it's their main smuggling port. There are two docks to check, so two teams. See, I do have a plan. Kinda…"

"Hm mm" you mumbled, still not fully believing him, but you let him continue anyways. You didn't fly out here for nothing.

**

Hours had passed and the four of you sat near the docks, waiting for the cover of nightfall. The smugglers, however, did not. You grabbed Jason's arm and began running towards the dock as soon as you saw a boat pulling into the harbor.

"What are you doing?" Jason mumbled as he ran to keep up with you.

"Are you blind? There's a container ship pulling into the docks. The dock that Roy told us to watch."

"The sun is still setting. There's no way they'd be that stupid." He tried to reason with you, but your pace didn't slow.

"Maybe they just paid the right people. Or killed them." You retorted though the timing was eerily suspicious. Both of you came to a halt when you only saw four guys. Sure, they had guns…but it definitely wasn't enough to warrant extra help. You glanced over at Jason in utter disbelief. "You want me to sit this one out or…"

"Let's just get it over with." Jason was clearly just as agitated as you were. The "battle" lasted only a few seconds and your trip back to the rendezvous spot was completed in utter silence.

"So…Roy. Why the fuck was I needed here?" Holding nothing back, you cried out as soon as you saw his red costume appear in the distance.

"Woah, hold up there. Must've gotten some bad intel. It happens. Better safe than sorry."

"Yeah well next time be sure. I do have my own cases and crime rings to dismantle." You walked off in a huff, determined to find your own way back. You didn't know what exactly Roy was up to, but you knew you wouldn't like it.

**

Months passed since the pointless mission with the Outlaws. You had gotten back to Miami, your home for the time being as you investigated a new drug trade route coming up from South America. Finally, you had made some progress, only said progress led to you being pinned down behind some wooden barrels.

"These aren't going to last long," you mumbled as you dialed Kory on your phone. No answer. "Fuck." Roy was next.

"Y/N, can this wait --" You hear the wind get pushed out of him just as the sentence finished.

"Hm not really. Kinda been pissing off the wrong people and now I'm pinned down."

"Fuck." Roy mumbled as he threw a punch towards the jaw of the unsuspecting thug.

"I tried Kory, but -- shit…" You watched as the barrels splintered around you.

"Off-world. I'm patching in Jas --" Roy stopped a syllable short, you assumed dodging his own bullets. You didn't wait for him to finish.

"Yeah look. I'm in Miami." You heard Jason mumble your name but continued on. You didn't know how much longer you would have. "Pretty sure they'll take me alive. Heard through the grapevine the boss wants the honors himself." You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt a bullet pierce through your shoulder. You took a few steadying breaths before continuing. "I have a tracer in my mask. I'll try to keep it on as long as I can. If you can't track it for some reason, call my sister." You didn't hang up the call before slowly raising your hands above the splintered barrels. "Take me to your leader," you exclaimed in your best alien impression, all while trying not to laugh.

"Do you think this is a game?!" One of the thugs screamed at you as they inched closer. You just shrugged, waiting to either be killed or taken. "Well grab her, idiots!" Two men hesitantly walked towards you, guns still drawn.

"Should I tie myself up? Would that be easier?" At this point, your sarcasm was the only thing keeping you sane. Finally, they got within striking distance and everything went black.

"Y/N? What's happening?!" Jason frantically began calling out your name as he was met with silence. Roy eventually spoke up.

"Jason. I hope you're on your way. I'll meet up with you as soon as I can, but I need to get ahold of Dinah first." Roy had no idea what he was going to say to her.

"Even in the jet, it's going to take 2 hours to get there…" The reality of the situation set it. "But I'm taking off now." Jason tried to push the horrific thoughts from his mind.

**

You woke up tied to a wooden chair. Not surprising.

"So, where's the boss?" You forced the words out, willing yourself into consciousness.

"Don't worry girlie, he's on his way…though I suppose there's nothing wrong with having a little fun first." The goon smirked as he flipped a knife in his hands.

"Well, you wouldn't want to damage the merchandise." You could tell he wasn't sold, so you continued. "I mean I'm dead either way, right? Wouldn't want you to risk your life as well…" He just stared blankly at you while the gears turned in his mind. Finally, he let out an exasperated huff and turned his back to you. At least you were able to buy yourself a little more time. Though you had a feeling it still wouldn't be enough. As your head began spinning, you looked down at your shoulder. The blood was still pouring out of the wound. "Of course…" you mumbled as the dizziness intensified. You were going to have to think of something quickly.

"So, how'd you get stuck with this job? Or are you just some disposable errand boy who got lucky?" You began antagonizing him as you attempted to saw through the ropes with the small blade that discharged out of your gloves.  

"Lucky?" He turned towards you with a villainous look plastered across his face. He sauntered towards you and placed his hands on either side of the chair. "I've been following you. I know your patterns. When you strike. That ambush was calculated and planned. Boss sent me 'cuz he knew I'd get the job done." Before he could push himself up from the chair, you launched forward, ramming your head into his. As he crashed to the floor, another burly man rushed into the room. You managed to free one of your legs just in time. As he stumbled backward you bent down in an attempt to free your other leg. The man lunged at you again. Pulling the other leg free, you circle around and hurled the chair at him. You let out a huge sigh of relief and slid to the floor as he landed atop the first assailant.

**

Jason watched as men patrolled around the building. Just as he was about to move Roy's voice came over the comm, "Have you found her? What's the situation? I'm still an hour out."

"I found her. They have four guards patrolling. Heavily armed. I found an opening."

"Four patrolling…you can't get any intel about who's inside? I think you should wait for me to get there." Roy already knew there was no hope of that.

"We may not have a chance if I wait. I'm going in."

Jason heard his best friend sigh, before eventually relenting. "Keep me updated. I'll be there when I can." Jason saw his opening coming up again. He moved quickly and quietly, sliding into the open door. He took in his surroundings, trying to not alert anyone of his presence unless absolutely necessary. He didn't want to give any of them a reason to shoot you…that is, if you were still alive. As he rounded the corner, he came face to face with a brutish man. Jason launched himself forward, knocking them both to the ground as he muffled the goon's mouth with his hand and encapsulated his neck. It only took a few seconds before the guard was out cold and Jason continued lurching down the hallway. He stopped short of a closed door. Jason took a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever awaited him on the other side.

**

You were jolted awake a few moments later and looked around to find the two men still unconscious on the ground. Crawling over, you pulled at one of their jackets and cut off a long piece. It took the last bit of your energy to tie it around your still bleeding shoulder. As your eyes began to flutter closed once again, they shot open at the sound of the door opening. You forced your head upwards and let out a faint chuckle at the familiar Red Hood that looked down at you.

"Solis!" Jason's eyes went wide as he saw the amount of blood in the room. "Shit alright. I need you to stay awake, okay?" You nodded and forced your eyes open as Jason dove down beside you, properly retying the fabric around your shoulder. Jason stared at you for a few moments before pushing himself up and firing a single shot down the hallway. You watched intently as the goons came running in, Jason plowing through them in a matter of minutes. Jason scooped you up, not bothering to try and gather any further information from you.

**

You woke up in a bed in an unfamiliar room. Your brain began piecing together the events. Jason had come to get you, then put you in a car, brought you here, sewed up the wound…you wondered how long you'd been asleep. The door creaked open and you saw both Roy and Jason standing in its frame.

"You're awake! Thank fuck, D would've killed me!" Roy rushed over and embraced you.

"Yeah probably…" You were speaking to Roy, but you couldn't take your eyes off Jason. There was something there, unspoken, that you couldn't remember. What had happened? How long had you been asleep? As if reading your mind, Jason spoke up.

"It's only been 12 hours," he watched your eyes go wide. "Before you freak out, you lost a lot of blood and were barely hanging on to consciousness. 12 hours is not that many. You'll still be weak." Jason began to step towards you but hesitated. Roy immediately noticed the awkwardness his presence brought.

"Imma just…I'll go get us some food…or something." Roy pointed towards the door and rushed out.

"I feel like I'm missing something."

"No…I just. I was worried." You leered at him, knowing that was not what you were missing. You carefully sat up and swung your legs over the bed, determined to get to the bottom of whatever feeling this was. Once you attempted to stand, Jason was at your side in a fraction of a second. "I just said you would be weak…" he mumbled out.

"Well I have to go to the bathroom and you aren't giving me answers anyways." You tried to push him away. It unsurprisingly did not work.

"How long have I known you? For once, just stop being so damn stubborn!" He grabbed your shoulders, in an effort to steady both of you.

"I dunno like 8 years…" you grumbled out, unsure if the question was meant to be answered.

"Yeah well for 7 and a half of those I've loved you. And it just hit me that you could die…hell I could I die, and you wouldn't know." His hands traced down your arms and collapsed at his side. "I guess that just broke me, okay? Are you happy now?!" The anger in his voice rose.

"So how about those pants now?" You smirked, trailing your eyes over his body. Jason's eyes lit up as he began to laugh, recalling the situation from months prior.

"Maybe not right now…let's wait until you can stand on your own."

"JUST KISS HER ALREADY GOD DAMMIT!" Roy screamed from the doorway. Neither of you knew how long he'd been there, but that didn't deter Jason. His lips smashed into yours while his arms enveloped you.

"FUCKING FINALLY!" Roy screamed as he threw his hands up in the air.