#and they see each other on the down low bc of work like the au is there

[halforcdad]

saw both top gun movies this weekend and i have to say the kacy au writes itself

[twilghtkoo]

ride: first date [part one] jjk

“you nervous?” “yeah.”

summary. you’re first date with jungkook and he’s picking you up on his motorcycle

pairings. biker!jungkook x reader (f)

genres/au. fluff, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, college au

warnings. flirty jungkook, oc and jk touch each other (not sexual), poor attempt at motorcycle knowledge (my fault) T__T, if i missed anything pls lmk!!

word count. 1.6k

notes. first part!! and the beginning of a new series but with jungkook o.o i rly liked this one hehe, pls like and reblog if u enjoyed this !! also did y’all see jungkook’s promotion schedule photo bc W T F

[ series masterpost | masterlist | taglist ]

—

you’re the girl he’s had a crush on since he saw you for the first time in the library on campus. you were wearing grey sweatpants and a random hoodie with your hair tied up in a low ponytail, your glasses framing your face in the most prettiest way. you were frantically typing and writing stuff down on your laptop, and when he had walked over to take a seat next to you— after the pep talk he had with himself— your notes still looked neat and colorful despite your distressed scribbling.

after he had the courage to tap you on the shoulder and start a conversation, you’ve both quickly became friends. it was surprising to see how well you both bonded together. and you’re not usually someone who makes friends so easily, it having to do with your shyness and social anxiety. but jungkook had a charm and such an easy-going personality that drew you in.

you’ve mostly hung out on campus, both of your schedules not aligning in your favors due to exam season. so your hangouts were located in the library most of the time. opting to studying together and just being satisfied basking in each others presence.

around the tenth hangout, jungkook asked you out on a date. you were working on a quiz and he was writing an essay when he slid a piece of paper over to you before he went back to typing on his laptop.

will you go out on a date with me this saturday?

check ☐ yes or ☐ yes :)

you would’ve said yes even if he gave you a ‘no’ option.

-

a couple days later, before the weekend, he had walked you to the campus’s bus stop and waited with you. you had an evening class and it ended around eight, the blue sky now turning a shade darker as the minutes pass and it made you frown.

“how do you get home? you said you park in parking garage b and that’s across campus. you didn’t have to walk me here, although i really appreciate it.” you said, worried. from the eyes of others, jungkook looks tough, if his tattoos, piercings, fit figure had anything to go by. but you cared about him and it’s natural for you to be worried. anything could happen.

your concerns make him grin, he shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

“i’m okay, promise. and i ride my bike to get places.” he assures you.

you tilt your head, staring at him with curious eyes. “like a motorcycle?”

he nods, holding his small grin when he watches your eyes grow bigger.

you gasp, “really? you own a motorcycle?”

“yup, she’s my baby. got her when i turned 20. she’s precious to me.” he tells you before leaning down next to your ear. “but don’t worry you’re more precious.”

you didn’t have time to respond because your transportation pulls up and jungkook grabs your hand to walk you to the entrance of the bus.

-

jungkook arrived at your place a bit early but he couldn’t help it. he was excited. he had texted you he was here but told you not to rush.

he’s has never been this nervous in his life since having to tell his mom he wanted to major in computer science and not med school like she wanted. he’s nervous because he’s going on a date with you.

and you’re in your bedroom trying to gather your necessities into your shoulder bag, deciding to take a peek through your window that shows the front of your building and you’re able to see jungkook next to his bike.

he’s not sure how to stand when you walk out your door. should he lean against his bike with his arms crossed? he almost decided to just sit on it but why if he’s going to get off anyways to greet you. should he pretend he’s on his phone until he sees you?

“kook!”

he is shaken out of his internal turmoil when he spots you lightly jogging up to him, a radiant smile lighting up your entire face with warmth and joy.

“sorry, did i make you wait?” she brushes a few strands of hair out of her face, peering up at him with guilt and curiosity with the shiny black bike next to him.

he quickly shakes his head. “no, i wasn’t waiting long. don’t worry.” he assured you.

“you look pretty.” jungkook compliments you, scanning your features with the same grin he had when he had asked you out on a date.

you blush, “thank you, you too. i mean, you look really really handsome.”

his eyes crinkled at the edges and the corners of his lips turned upwards. his lip piercings shining and glaring from the sunlight, almost blinding you.

he notices you staring at his bike with interest.

“you nervous?”

“yeah.” you admit, sheepishly smiling.

you watch as jungkook unzips his leather jacket and sliding it off before he makes his way to you. he helps you slide off your bag before helping you slide your arms in the sleeves. his smell and the soft scent of his cologne makes you feel giddy inside and makes your heart hammer.

“i’ll ride slow, i have precious cargo today.” he responds, zipping the jacket up and grabbing all your hair from out the jacket. an action that makes your heart beat louder out of your chest.

you slide your bag back over your head to rest on your shoulder as you watch jungkook grab the helmet that rested on the back of his bike.

“did the bike come with an extra helmet?” you question, genuinely curious.

he’s careful to not mess up your hair as he slides the helmet over your head, and strapping it on.

he hums before he responds. “no, i bought it yesterday.” he tightens a strap, then asking if it was too tight, you said no.

“you bought it for me?”

“i told you, i have precious cargo. can’t have nothing happen to you.” he finishes making sure your helmet was secured, lightly patting the top of it before he slid his on.

watching jungkook do his thing and putting on his gloves was kind of hot…okay, really hot.

jungkook gets on first, kicking the kick stand off the ground and holds out his gloved hand for you to take. giving your hand a squeeze as he notices your small steps before you climb on behind him. instantly wrapping your arms around his tiny waist, when you tightened your grasp you were able to feel the sculpted muscles underneath his t-shirt. only making you intrigued on what’s hiding beneath the thin cotton fabric.

“hold on to me okay, squeeze me if anything.” he tells you softly, but you know he’s serious.

-

the sound of his motorcycle coming to life was like a breath of fresh air. in fact, his frequent gentle touches at stop lights were everything calming and you appreciated it.

the light just turned red and jungkook slows down to a stop. your knees rested against his hips as your arms circled his waist, both your hands linked together. he frees his hands from the handle bars to rest on your hands, giving them a squeeze.

and god, you’re very thankful for this helmet that’s hiding your red face and your embarrassingly huge smile.

his hands then roam to your knees then down your shins, patting a rhythm and then running over your denim covered leg soothingly.

is he doing this to make you go crazy? cause it’s working.

you’re not sure if it was the coffee you had this morning or his touches that boosted this sudden confidence but your hands loosened around his hips and gripped them. squeezing where his bare skin ends and you feel the hem of his black jeans.

jungkook places a hand over yours, not letting your hands move anywhere else. he wants yours to stay where it’s at for the moment.

he tilts his head back. “you doing okay?”

you nod, “yeah, you’re a safe driver. five stars.” you joke.

he chuckles at that and the light turns green.

-

he took you to a dog cafe. not just any dog cafe, but a corgi cafe. you didn’t even know this cafe existed. oh but through the big window in the front of the building, seeing the few corgis you could see, you wanted to burst with excitement.

“you like corgis?” he asks, pointing to the pen that’s in your hand with an acrylic artwork of a corgi at the end. you had bought it at a stationery store a few weeks ago.

your lips curve upward into a small but genuine smile. “yeah, they’re my favorite dogs.”

he smiles with you, mentally storing that information into his brain.

“you haven’t been here before have you?” he asks nervously, helping you off the bike and unstrapping your helmet. he helps you fix your hair and brushes back a few strands.

you shake your head. “no, i didn’t even know a corgi cafe existed here.”

“good, i was worried you’ve already been here.” he holds his hand out for you to take, in which you did.

you’re swaying on your feet unconsciously, switching gazes from the nervous boy and the sight of a freaking corgi cafe in front of you.

but jungkook notices you.

he hums out, “come on pretty, don’t wanna keep you out too late.”

[redriotinggg]

east blue polycule hitchhiking au that i’ll never write

luffy n zoro meet at a convenience store/gas station. and find out they’re both pretty much stranded with no destination in mind. they team up and use the last of their money to buy snacks and bottom-shelf booze.

enter nami, who steals their wallets while they’re making out by the slushie machine and is pissed to find out they’re broke as hell.

zolu catch her but are ultimately intrigued by the angry red-headed bandit. she ends up coming along with them because they can be her protection if needed and she knows she can outwit them if she needs to get away.

the trio finesse their way onto a bus, where luffy tells nami that her freckles look like stars, and zoro says he knows she’s strong/tough even though she may not look like it. (“don’t let her puny fingers fool you, this woman’s strong”). her heart skips a beat and she wonders when her standards got so low, but she’s happy, so she lets it slide.

the bus takes them to the beach, where they encounter usopp, who’s sitting alone, painting the scenery.

luffy sees him painting and runs over to ask about it, doing so and unabashedly stealing the food from his picnic basket. nami and zoro also come to steal. usopp’s pissed bc wtf??? that’s his food???? but then they compliment his painting and he’s like, “Well it’s bc I’m a descendent of Picasso-” and the trio turns into a quartet.

turns out usopp has a vehicle! (“why do you have a wholeass mini-van at 19 lmao” “shut up it was a hand-me down! and it’s convenient to carry my artwork around”) and has been using it to drive around and think. his one-man roadtrip turns into a three-man-one-woman roadtrip. he feels he should he mad and is a little mad but mostly he’s happy to have new friends. he just hopes they don’t kill him. (“btw guys if you try to murder me, my friend modified me into a killer cyborg so i wouldn’t do that if i were you”)

they come across some guys trying to rob a woman, so luffy n zoro beat em up and nami steals their wallets. they use that money to pay for their dinner at—you guessed it—the baratie.

just like in canon, zolusona terrorize sanji, who’s working tables after being punished by zeff. he’s pissed enough to be impulsive, so he lets the quartet steal him away from the restaurant and back into the van.

they head back to the beach with food and booze stolen from the restaurant, eating, drinking, and having more fun than any of them can remember. shared gazes, amused smiles, whispered secrets. they were all meant to meet. they can feel it.

luffy runs off to skinny dip in the ocean and zoro strips down nude to join him. the other three blush but strip down to the their undies, holding hands as they race to the water. they all laugh and swim and play. it’s fun and intimate, and none of them can ignore the connection they’ve made. can’t ignore the pull they feel for each other, as individuals and as a collective.

exhausted, they lay usopp’s multitude of blankets onto the sand and collapse on top of it, falling asleep curled around each other, only to be rudely awoken by the beach’s lifeguards, who give them the chance to pack up and leave before they call the cops.

“what now?” usopp asks when they pile back into his van. along with the others, his breath catches at the sight of luffy’s wide, dazzling grin. “off to the next adventure, of course!” and so they go. <3

[silliest-heartaches]

Ohh my god DRINKKK!! Dude I love them sooo muchhh. I just love imagining them being head over heels for each other yet constantly denying their feelings, because of how they view themselves, yet still finding comfort and solace with each other. They are so. YES. PERFECT. AUGH.

SHARE MORE ABOUT THEM PLEASE!!!

And I love how you use they/them for Ink and she/her for Dream!!

GOD YEAH I LIKE THEM SO INCREDIBLY MUCH... tbh the main reason i started liking them was bc i was thinking abt them and how doomed yuri coded they were and. The worms Wormed in from there,,,,

I actually use he/they and she/they for ink and dream respectively but!!!!!! I love all hcs and interpretations of them for REAL. nonbinary people who are gay as fuck for real,, very inherrently queer ship regardless of how u see either of them i think...heart seeing them as t4t transmasc and transfem forever personally though so thats what i see em as hehe,, also in my head theyre both aroacespec (though the specifc kind varies from au to au though i do consistently see ink as ace and dream as demiaro :>>)

Im not sure how long these will be so...hcs under the cut lol

- okay well while in my mind while error is technically the First Entity ink sees that isnt just a normal entity, dream is like their First. Friend. you know. Like when error first saw him he was screaming and crying for the hills bc it was also his first time seeing another outcode so. that reaction BUT with dream she was more filled with gentle confusion... this is a bit after she unstoned in the apple incident but still was new to au hopping and naive to most danger so they became friends!!! Questionably so.

-to elaborate, when they first meet dream is still stuck on the ideals of toxic positivity and pushing through hardship no matter what... i think this is something they eventually grow out of and dream will eventually learn to see the need for balance eventually but one of their first disputes happens when ink is running low on ink and most of whats left are the Negative Emotions within him alongside the especially strong panic that he usually feels when they get like this... dream would try to comfort him and try to say that itll work out in the end no matter what and that they just need to push through and that itll be okay like normal comforting words because dream is an empath and can sense feelings right,,i feel like its comforting in some cases but when things get Really Bad and especially when the main reserves of feelings that ink has are Negative, they heavily override his normal sense of self and i imagine they get a lot more. Snappy.... theres also the additional hc thingy of ink also really overexaggerating his feelings and overplaying them a lot for the sake of trying to feel more intensely (doesnt work, just drains him faster and will never truly feel natural to him...personally think that ink feels a lot of disconnect from his feelings) which could be considerably offputting to dream (though before adding swap to the group she thought it wass normal because she had only seen the fake pretend nice joy of the village influenced by her aura and not Genuine Feelings)

I think eventually through the years they would learn a lot from eachother...like with ink learning to be more naturally charismatic and dream learning to see past toxic positivity and have his perception on emotions change for the better (ie in learning that having different emotions are okay, so long as there is a balance)

id do alot more hcs but tbh what it boils down to is: toxic codependent yuri. intensely up and down relationship where theres an insane amount of love and attachment but also a lack of self from the both of them because they are only able to see themselves as a Thing to the other. Also exes who turned out to be besties. Thry got together and broke up wayyy before blue (they casually tell him stories about it and for the parts that he does know about he is horrified for.) Oh and they share hobbies and do parallel play alot. dream is more music oriented and can play the cello and flute. ink can play the ukelele but hes more familiar with drawing and painting duh. Also they have a garden. they love growing flowers but their favourites are sunflowers. Also have writing sessions together. Also may/may not also have beautiful princess disorder. (The both of them)

im so sorry this is so incoherrent but erm. yeah im very normal abt them (half of this stuff comes from oc projection the other half is like. Mental illness while in the shower tbh)

[vodika-vibes]

😌 idk if my first request for a fox x reader went through but i’ve been reading a lot (ofc whats new) and uh uh I found I really love fics with CX-2 (Clone Assassin) aND SO, to my favorite SW writer I ask;

How bout a soulmate au with CX-2 (?) Could be a bit of angst with a happy ending, and everyone is just wondering how reader could be with him after all the things he’s done (uh im getting sunshine!reader x grumpy character vibes)

dont have to write this! i just would love to see some more cx-2 fics after reading one just now lol also im down the rabbit hole again that its cx-2!tech whose been reconditioned, do what you feel is best but i just love that theory bc I’m a firm believer too that tech never died 😌

Protective

Summary: For a long time, your parents feared that you didn’t have a soulmate. Until, one morning, you woke up and found a wild dog curled up next to you on your bed. You named him Noir, and the people around you quickly learned that he was fiercely protective of you. However, after Noir kills an Imperial Officer after he threatens, you have no choice but to go on the run.

Pairing: CX-2 x F!Reader, background Tech x Phee

Word Count: 2799

Warnings: None

Prompt: Soulmate AU - soulmates have spirit animals representing each other.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So I wasn't able to get the angst to work, largely because I wasn't in an angsty mood. Also, as much as I love the CX-2 being Tech idea, I had a different idea for this fic, so I hope you like it!

“What d’ya have there, Noir?” You ask as you return to the small hut that has been your home for the last three months and crouch in front of your oldest companion.

Noir’s tail wags rapidly as he nudges something in your direction.

You gently rub his head, then carefully pick up his offering, “Oh, it’s a fish. Did you find dinner for us, pal?”

Noir releases a happy yip, and you laugh softly, “Good job, Noir.” You stand and carry the fish over to the rough kitchen to divvy up the portions. Most of the fish will go to Noir, while you’ll prepare your portion with some seasoning that the Wookies traded with you.

Three months ago, Noir slaughtered an Imperial Officer who threatened your life. You’ve always known that he is fiercely protective of you, and you knew that there was a chance that he would kill again if you were threatened.

The first time it happened you had still been a child. Your uncle tried to kidnap you, and Noir reacted violently. 

That time, the authorities just nodded and said it made sense, that your uncle had bad intentions. Neither you, nor Noir, were punished for the death of your uncle.

The Empire is much less understanding.

You had no choice but to take Noir and flee from Coruscant.

The pair of you bounced from planet to planet for several months and then were offered a safe house on Kashyyyk, in the Shadowlands far below the treetop homes of the Wookie people.

It’s not easy.

You are, at your heart, a city girl. Hunting and survival skills do not come naturally to you. Luckily, you have Noir. He really is the greatest equalizer.

If not for him, you’d have died several times since you moved into the small hut.

The biggest downside to this whole situation is the knowledge that you’re not likely to ever meet your soul mate.

Well, unless your soulmate is a Wookie, you suppose.

Carefully, you fillet the fish on your cutting board and toss the large majority into Noir’s bowl, the rest is set in a bowl of marinade and shoved into the fridge. 

At least you have electricity. 

Sure, you don’t have a holo, but you do have a radio that allows you to keep up to date on the current events, and, much more importantly, listen to books while you fight to keep the Shadowlands from reclaiming the hut.

You’re about to flip the radio on, when Noir releases a low growl.

A growl low enough that your hair stands on end.

You turn your gaze to Noir and see that his ears are flat against his head and his teeth are bared. Spooked, you reach for your belt and grab your blaster, and then you nudge the door open.

Noir slinks out of the hut and, cautiously, you follow him.

The forest is silent. Eerily silent. 

You scan the forest around you, not that you expect to be able to see or hear anything. It’s enough that Noir is still growling as though he’s on the verge of attacking.

There’s a rustle in a bush, and you lift your blaster, only to lower it as a small, curious-looking creature ambles out. It’s red, black, and white, and you’d almost think it was a raccoon if not for the colors.

Noir is still growling like there’s a threat, but he’s ignoring the small creature, which is still ambling towards you. It stops at your feet and raises on its hind legs, and you crouch to get a better look at it.

When Noir first appeared in your bedroom all those years ago, no one was sure what kind of animal he was. Not even the zoologists at the local university were able to determine a species.

So you spent a lot of time as a child flipping through various animal encyclopedias. And, while you’d never claim that you had a perfect memory, this little creature does look familiar.

“You’re a Red Panda, aren’t you?” You murmur as you lightly stroke the soft fur on top of her head, “Your kind isn’t native to Kashyyyk, how did you get here?” What’s more is that she’s soft, as though someone’s been taking care of her, though based on the scarring around her ankles, she’s been chained up a lot. “Are you someone’s pet?”

The red panda climbs into your arms and promptly falls asleep, nuzzling her face into your neck. “Well, you’ve clearly been socialized. Maybe I can do something about the scarring.”

Your head snaps up as there’s more rustling and Noir’s growl lowers.

Five Stormtroopers stumble into the clearing, “There it is!” One of them says as he points at the Red Panda in your arms, “Get it!”

You stumble backward as they lift their blasters and Noir launches himself at the Stormtroopers. 

You’ve always known that Noir was quick. Quick and with a strong bite, but the last time you’ve seen him move this quickly was when you were a child. He manages to kill three of the Stormtroopers before they recognize that he’s a threat.

The fourth and fifth, however, turn their blasters on him.

And, for a moment, you think that you’re going to watch Noir die. 

You only think that for a moment, as another man emerges from the forest. He’s clad in black armor, much unlike the stark white armor of the Stormtroopers. And you watch as he uses a blade to kill one of the Stormtroopers from behind. 

You watch as he and Noir work in concert to kill the last of the Stormtroopers.

And then you watch as Noir jumps up on the man, his tail wagging faster than you’ve ever seen before. The armored man seems surprised at how friendly Noir is, and, to be honest, you are too.

He’s so friendly with the armored man, in fact, that you can’t help but think that Noir is the representation of said armored man.

“Noir,” You say, drawing the attention of both the wild dog and the armored man, “His name is Noir.”

It’s kind of hard to read him, seeing as he’s wearing a helmet, but you’re pretty sure that he’s staring at you. “Ka’ra.” He gestures to the red panda in your arms, “She’s been a prisoner her whole life.”

“That explains the scarring,” You walk over to him and pass him his spirit animal, a small smile crossing your face as Noir drops to his paws and bounces around you. “I have some medical stuff, to wrap her scars if you want.”

He’s quiet for a long time, and then nods once, “I’d appreciate that.”

You lead him into the hut, and motion for him to take a seat anywhere while you dig around for the first aid kit.

Once you find it, you set it on the table and open it to dig through what you have left. “You know, you don’t have to leave your helmet on.” You note lightly, “This is a pretty safe place.”

The man hesitates for a moment, then he nods once and reaches up to pull off his helmet. 

You’re genuinely surprised to see that he’s a clone. He looks like every other clone you’ve ever seen, dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin…though he does have some nasty scarring along the side of his face.

He’s handsome, you decide as you focus back on your medkit. He kind of looks like Noir, if you squint.

Though, now you have to wonder if you look like his Ka’ra.

“Ah, here we go!” You pull several rolls of bandages from the bottom of the kit and some scar powder. “If I remember correctly, this needs to be added to water, and then the bandages need to soak in it for a bit before we apply them—” You mumble under your breath as you flip the bottle and squint at the instructions.

“What’s your name?” The man asks.

You glance at him and introduce yourself absently, before you squint at the directions again, “What’s yours?”

“...CX-2.”

You pause, “Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve never actually met another person with a soul animal before.”

“It’s rare, then?”

“One of the rarest soul bonds.” You agree, “The only one that’s more rare is the teleportation one.” You stand to grab a clean bowl and fill it with water before placing it on the table.

“I have a brother with the teleportation soul bond. He vanished one day, never saw him again.” CX replies as he watches you.

“Well, there are a lot of you.” You reply as you add some of the powder to the water and stir it in.

He doesn’t answer for a moment, “What is a human doing on Kashyyyk?”

“Ah…well.” You pause, “Noir killed an Imperial Officer who threatened me.”

CX stares at you for a long time, and then his lips curl up into an amused smile, “Good.”

You shoot him a puzzled look.

“He’s as protective of you as I would be.”

“Yeah, well…he is representative of you, right?” You reply with a small shrug.

“I didn’t expect you to be so calm about it,” CX notes, “You do realize that I’m an assassin, right?”

You start unrolling a roll of bandages, “When I was about eleven years old,” You say quietly, “My uncle tried to kidnap me from my bedroom. Noir,” You nod at the wild dog who is gnawing on a bone, “ripped his throat out before he got me out of the living room.” You look at him, “Why should I be afraid of you?”

CX looks startled for a moment, and then a quiet laugh falls from his lips, “I suppose you have good reason to not be afraid.”

You shrug, “I would prefer it if you didn’t assassinate people anymore, but I’d also prefer to not live in a hut on Kashyyyk, so—” You shrug again, and finally drop the bandages into the water.

“What would you have me do instead?”

“Mm, you can join the Rebellion?”

“Ick.”

A laugh falls from you, “I mean when the Republic was still standing, I never had to worry about Republic Officers threatening me. Within a month of the Republic turning into an Empire, I was threatened by an Imperial Officer.”

“...I suppose that it fair.”

“I’m not going to make you do anything,” You say lightly, “We can stay here if you prefer.”

“We?”

“Well, I assume that you want to stay with me?”

CX gazes at you silently, “I want you safe. So staying does make the most sense.”

You meet his gaze evenly, “I’ll definitely be safer with you, compared to away from you.” You agree.

CX is silent for a long moment, “Mandalore.”

“Beg pardon?”

“There’s a group of former Commandos who have a compound on Mandalore. They’re housing clones and their families.” He explains, “We’ll be safe there.”

“How do you know that?”

“All of the Clones know it.” He says, “Well, save for Alpha Prime, I suppose.”

“How are we supposed to get there?” You ask with a tilt of your head.

“I have a ship.”

You grin at him, and then pull the bandages out of the water, “I think it’s a great idea.”

It takes three weeks for you and CX to get to Mandalore, and it takes even longer for CX to prove that he’s not an active threat to his brothers. You’re not able to help with that, but watching him interact with you does a lot to earn him some goodwill.

You like your new home, it’s not Coruscant, but there is plenty of room for Noir to run around and get spoiled, and he does get spoiled. Not quite as much as CX’s Ka’ra, but pretty close. 

Surprisingly, CX is somewhat clingy. When he’s in the same area as you, his arms are around you, or his hand is in yours. You kind of have the feeling that he’s a little touch starved, so you don’t mind it.

On this particular day, you’re lounging in the sun, watching Noir and Ka’ra play together, while CX is sparring with Ordo (only the Nulls aren’t hesitant about sparring with CX, which is sad, but understandable).

You enjoy watching him spar largely because he tends to spar shirtless.

You’re allowed to be a simple woman when it comes to your soulmate, right?

“Watching them again?” A familiar voice pulls you out of your musing, and you tilt your head back to look up at the familiar man approaching you. “You could join them.”

“Hardly, if Ordo so much as scratched me, both Noir and CX would rip him to shreds.” You pat the ground next to you, “Have a seat, Tech. No need to hover.”

“He still wishes to be called CX?” Tech asks as he sinks to the ground next to you.

“It’s his choice.” You reply easily, “How was your physical therapy?”

“Painful,” Tech replies, matter-of-factly, “However, my healer believes that I am getting to the point where I will no longer need to see them.”

“That’s something. Are you thinking of reaching out to your brothers? Or your soulmate?”

“I am…unsure.”

“Oh?”

“I died.” He says bluntly, wincing as CX manages to flip Ordo onto his back, “I died, and my soul bond is weaker than it was before.”

“I assume your doctor has an opinion on that.”

“Of course. He says that I just need to reach out to Phee.”

“Why haven’t you?”

Tech anxiously adjusts his glasses, “What if she has found someone else?”

“Do you really think that she would?”

“...she is a beautiful and clever woman. Any man would be lucky to have her—” Tech starts.

“You’re borrowing trouble, Tech. You need to call her.”

Tech opens his mouth to reply but stops as CX jogs over.

You smile up at him adoringly, and offer him his water bottle, “Having fun, love?”

He smirks, “Ordo is bitching because I managed to flip him. So we’re having a round two.”

“Of course you are.”

He flashes a tiny grin at you and crouches so he’s able to kiss you quickly before he jogs back over to the sparring ring. His training was so different from his brothers, you can tell based on the scars covering his body, and based on the fact that he’s not quite as solid as Ordo and the other Nulls.

Not that any of that matters to you.

You love him as he is.

“It does not make sense to me how someone as kind as you ended up with someone like him,” Tech admits, “He intimidates everyone, and lashes out when pushed.”

“I’ve never been afraid of him.” You reply with a small grin, “Even when he killed someone in front of me, even when he loses his temper.”

Tech shakes his head, “I believe I understand.”

You tilt your head curiously.

“You are just as insane as he is.”

You aren’t able to help that laughter that bursts from your lips, “I suppose,” You say through your giggles, “that’s one way to view it.”

Tech flashes a crooked smile at you, and then gets back to his feet, “I am going to go send Phee a message, and hope that she forgives me. Enjoy your ogling.”

You fling a handful of grass at him but don’t deny his accusations. 

The spar ends an hour later after it gets too hot for them to continue, and CX makes his way to your side, dropping onto the ground next to you. Immediately his arms slide around your waist and he presses his face against your neck.

“Did you have fun?” You ask as you card your fingers through his curls. 

He hums in response, his arms tightening around you, “I’m glad that you don’t mind coming to these.”

“I enjoy watching you spar.”

He pulls his face away from your neck, “You enjoy watching me do anything.” 

“You are ridiculously handsome.” You shift in his grip slightly so you’re able to press your hands against his cheeks, “I’m a lucky lady.”

“Mm, is that right?” CX asks as he leans in and presses his forehead against yours.

“You’re all sweaty,” You whisper to him. 

“So maybe we should go home,” He offers with an arched brow, “You can wash my hair for me.”

A giggle falls from your lips, “Deal.”

CX grins at you, and crashes his lips against yours, knocking you back onto the grass.

Everything isn’t perfect, CX still needs gene therapy to remove the enhanced aging, not to mention regular therapy to help deal with all of his issues. But so long as you’re together, everything will be fine.

You won’t allow for anything else.

[nanawritesit]

Skz Tattoo Artist AU Imagines! Part Two (fem!reader)

🔞 (NSFW/ 18+/ MDNI) 🔞

Part One - SFW

TW: hooking up with professional artists (don’t be delusional irl guys lol) p in v sex with protection not specified (LK, CB, SM, IN) oral sex (H) fingering (HJ, F) masturbation play (F) nipple play/sucking (BC) girl on top (LK) doggy style (CB, SM) missionary/ mating press (IN) spanking (LK) choking (HJ) hair pulling (H) marking up (H) voice kink (F) studio sex (SM) sex in a relationship (IN) scratching (IN) praise, groping, dirty talk, pet names, making out, cursing

ngl these are kinda short, i didn’t really feel like writing full out scenarios for all eight members 💀 if you’d like to request a more detailed scenario for ONE member each, i’d be willing to accept it in the ask box :)

Bangchan:

He had somehow managed to muster up the courage to ask you out a few weeks after giving you your tattoo, thanks to your mutual friend Han’s encouragement. He decided that he wouldn’t have been able to handle seeing you with some other guy while his art was on your chest.

Speaking of which, your tattoo was fully healed by the time you went out, so you decided to show it off with a low cut top. Chan couldn’t take his eyes off of it the entire time you were out at the bar, and you decided to tease him about it once you had agreed to go back to his apartment with him.

“Are you a fan of the top?” you asked, cheekily judging him as he sat down next to you on the couch.

He chuckled, pushing his hair back and looking away in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I promise I’m not looking at your cleavage. It’s just… God, you are really rocking that tattoo.”

“Well, you have yourself to thank. You did a kickass job.” you grinned as you complimented him.

“You were the inspiration.” he suddenly blurted out. His cheeks heated up at his sudden confession.

Your lips parted as you cocked your head in question. “Really?”

He sighed, laughing at himself before explaining. “I meant, I designed it specifically for you. I thought about how it would look on you the entire time I was drawing it, so it was literally made for you. You’re the muse, so to speak.”

You blinked a few times, staring at him blankly. Without a moment’s hesitation, you leaned forward and crashed your lips against his. He quickly melted into the kiss, as if he had been preparing himself for it all night and was just waiting for the chance to fall into it. Your hands flew up to grip his shoulders, while his moved to cup your jaw. His brow furrowed as he leaned deeper into the kiss, leaning you back onto the couch. He moved to straddle your lap, biting your lip slightly as he pulled away.

Panting wildly, he studied your features affectionately, as if he was taking in a great work of art. Finally, his eyes trailed down to your chest. He sighed airily, pouting his lips open as he looked at the rose he had etched into your skin so carefully.

“Fuck, you’re absolutely gorgeous, Y/N…” he told you, his big brown eyes sparkling as he looked back into yours. He slowly brought a hand to your chest, hovering it over your breast. “Can I?”

You nodded, granting him permission to grope you. He bit his lip as he did so, watching the rose morph along his fingers and the plush of your breast. “I haven’t been able to contain myself watching you walk around with my art on you, that I put there myself…”

Without thinking, he began lifting your shirt to expose your whole chest to him, placing delicate kisses all over your bare skin. He licked your nipple a few times, then latched onto it, sucking lightly as he groped your other breast. You bucked your hips forward in arousal, bringing a hand up to his hair to grip onto it. Never before had a man made you so desperate just by sucking your titties.

Sensing he had been sucking for a while, he released your nipple from his mouth and looked back up at you with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I just… couldn’t help myself. They looked so good.”

You responded by placing your hand at the back of his neck and pulling him back down to kiss him again, rougher and more passionately than before. Your tongue slipped into his mouth, fighting with his for dominance as he continued groping your tits.

“Chan…” you suddenly whined, pulling away from him by only a few centimeters, lips still ghosting over his.

“Yeah?” he enquired, trailing loving kisses down your neck that made you squint from the dopamine.

“I want… to…” you tried to get him to finish your sentence, tossing your head back to grant him more access to your neck.

“What do you want, baby?” he questioned cheekily, nibbling on your earlobe. “Tell me, I want to hear it.”

“Chan, please don’t tease me…” you sighed in protest.

“Oh baby, you don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.” he informed you, giggling over your frustration.. “It wouldn’t be fun if I didn’t get to give you a taste of what my longing was like.”

You chuckled in disbelief at his audacity, squinting your eyes shut and exhaling. “Okay, fine… I want you to fuck me, Chan.”

He grinned into your neck, laughing so delicately that you could barely feel his breath fanning against your skin. “Okay, my rose. It’d be my pleasure.”

Lee Know:

You squealed as he slapped your ass with his tattooed hand again, smirking up at you. He looked so fine underneath you, the red LED lights in your room glistening off his sweaty, inked up neck and piercings.

“Oh come on, I know you can take it, tough girl.” he teased you, bucking his hips up into you.

You yelped as the sudden force jolted you forward, gripping onto the pillows beneath you as your hair fell in front of your face. You never imagined he would be such a wild ride.

“Awh, you can do it, sweetheart… you took that tattoo so well, I’m sure you can handle my cock too.” he cooed, pushing your hair back for you. The softness of his touch contrasted greatly with how roughly he was fucking himself up into you.

“Minho…” you whined, leaning into his hand as he rested it against your cheek. “I’m gonna…”

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me?” he asked, biting his pierced lip. He suddenly gripped onto your hips and began guiding you up and down along his cock, mercilessly pounding into you.

“Minho!” you cried out, knuckles turning white at how hard you were gripping onto the pillows.

“I want you to cum for me, sweetheart…” he demanded, his face suddenly taking on a serious expression. “And I want you to scream. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Minho, yes!” you did as he asked, allowing the final string within you to snap. You were crying out his name, slurring the syllables together as your mind became clouded with pleasure.

“Yeah baby, ride it out…” he encouraged you, his hips stuttering as he was nearing his own release. “Atta girl, keep going… don’t stop…”

He grunted loudly, then messily thrusted up harshly inside of you, your already sensitive walls clenching around him for dear life. He began calling out for you just as you had done for him, his fingernails digging into your hips and leaving little red crescent moons in your skin.

Once you had both finished in unison, you collapsed against him, forgetting how sensitive the skin along your collarbone was. You hissed at the sudden contact, wincing in pain.

“Oh sweetheart, are you okay?” he asked, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. His eyes were sparkling with so much concern, you almost forgot how hard he had just demolished you.

“Oh, I’m just wonderful, Minho.”

Changbin:

When you went to your tattoo appointment this morning, you never imagined you’d be ending the night in your tatoo artists’ bedroom, straddling his lap as he made out with you and ran his large, inked hands all over your body. But come on, how were you supposed to resist the man, with his fluffy black waves, glasses, bulging arm muscles decked out in tattoos, chain, and tight black tshirt?

“Can I take this off?” he suddenly asked, pulling away momentarily. He was gripping onto the hem of your shirt, tugging at it slightly.

You nodded frantically, desperately wanting to have his lips back on yours. He whipped your shirt off over your head, glad that you hadn’t put your bra back on yet. He glanced up at the mirror facing opposite the bed, gasping slightly as he took in the wings on your back.

“God, you’re breathtaking…” he sighed, running his hands along them.

Growing impatient at his distraction, you began kissing his neck, licking and nipping at his skin. You inhaled as you placed your lips to his ear. “Changbin… I want you.”

He chuckled, roughly pulling you back by the hair to face him. “I want you too, angel…. but I also want to keep looking at those pretty little wings. Why don’t you get on your hands and knees so I can multitask?”

You smirked and nodded your head obediently, moving off of his lap to remove your shorts and panties. You then assumed the position he’d requested, arching your back as you leaned forward on your elbows.

He bit his lip at the sight of you bent over before him, patiently waiting for him to fuck you like a good little girl. He ripped his shirt off over his head, then unbuckled his belt and slid his jeans down his legs, discarding everything into a pile on the floor. He pumped his dick in his hand a few times, then got onto his knees behind you, lining himself up with your pussy.

“You ready to fly, angel?” he inquired, looking over your shoulder at you.

“Yes, please, Changbin…” you whined needily.

He smirked, then entered you inch by inch, gently thrusting forward as you adjusted to his length. You both groaned at the feeling of your pussy clamping around his dick.

“Shit, honey, you’re so tight…” he grunted, eyes rolling back in his head. Once he was completely inside of you, he brought a hand up to your hair, anchoring you in place as he took in the designs he had placed on your back. He smiled at them with pride, picking up the pace of his thrusts and gripping tightly onto your hip with his other hand. He was going to make sure you never regretted coming to him to earn your wings.

Hyunjin:

“Yeah? You like that?” Hyunjin sniggered into your ear, biting your earlobe teasingly as his fingers worked magic on your core. It had been a full week since you got your tattoo, but he still insisted that your skin was much too delicate for sex. However, being the giving man he was. he still wanted to please you after your first date, so here you were laid out on top of him, back pressed to his chest while he rubbed circles over your clit with his dominant, tatted arm.

“Hyunjin… I…” you breathed airily, not being able to process any other words. You were intoxicated by his touch, it was almost otherworldly how intuitive he was. You didn’t know a man could be so good at fingering, as most didn’t even know where the clit was.

He said nothing, and instead brought his left hand, which had previously been groping your breast, up to your throat to clamp down on it.

“Look at you, such a mess over just my fingers…” he taunted with an affectionate pout, flattening three fingers against your slit to rub quick, rhythmic circles and tease you even further. “Am I really making you feel that good?”

Hyunjin was desperate for your praise, you knew this from the very moment you told him the design he drove into your hip was perfect. You didn’t know why, but it was like a drug to him.

“Oh yes, Hyunjin… you’re so good with your fingers, I feel so damn good!” you cried out, allowing your head to fall back against his shoulder.

He grinned in accomplishment, going back to your pussy with renewed vigor. He inserted two fingers into your needy hole, then rotated his thumb up to stimulate your clit.

“Fuck, Hyunjin!” you squealed, bucking your hips forward to gain more friction off of his fingers.

“Oh, is that too much baby?” he teased, tightening his grip on your throat. “Come on, don’t you trust me?”

You were immediately reminded of how comfortable he made you feel in his tattoo studio, and how caring he was throughout the entire process. He truly was a remarkable man.

“Yes, I do… I trust you completely.” you told him, allowing yourself to succumb to the pleasure. It wasn’t long before you were finishing in his hand, slamming your hips up into it as you cried out strings of praise for him.

Smirking in triumph, he slid his fingers out of your cunt and placed them in his mouth, relishing the flavor of you.

“My god, you taste heavenly, Y/N…” he sighed, placing a soft kiss to your temple.

You smiled to yourself, and once you had caught your breath, you sat up and turned around to face him. You sunk down to where your head was hovering over his crotch, then began unbuttoning his jeans.

“Now it’s your turn.” you grinned up at him through seductive, siren eyes. You might just be his weakness, he thought to himself, but then all he could concentrate on was your mouth wrapping around his cock. God, you were going to be the death of him.

Han:

After a lengthy competition over who could flirt with the other the hardest, you found yourself sprawled out on Han’s bed as he left hickies all down your neck. It was quite comical that just this morning, you hadn’t even known what he looked like. He was just this mysterious local celebrity… and when he invited you back to his place after getting a couple drinks at a local bar, you couldn’t possibly say no.

“Han, please…” you sighed in desperation, tugging at his dark locks.

He sat up to look you in the eye, smirking in satisfaction at how easily he could work you up. “What is it, babe? After you’ve been such a little temptress all night, do you find yourself wanting more than just teasing?”

You rolled your eyes at his calling you out, yanking his hair out of annoyance. He whimpered involuntarily, making you raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah? Did you like that, pretty boy?” you inquired, the corners of your lips curling up in a sly grin.

“Shit, don’t call me that… I might lose all my self control…” he exhaled, pressing his forehead against yours as he kissed your lips. Just as the kiss was growing heated, he pulled away and looked at you with a slightly serious expression. “Listen, beautiful, it pains me to say this, but I don’t want to fuck you while that tattoo is still fresh. The friction would hurt you, and I don’t want to mess up the ink.”

You pouted, then nodded in agreement with him. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Maybe you shouldn’t have flirted with me so hard.” you smirked, pulling his hair once again.

He muttered another whimper, squinting his eyes shut at the sensation and then laughing at himself. “You know, there are other ways I could pleasure you, babe…”

You tried to contain the smile that was spreading on your face at his insinuation, and instead shrugged at him challengingly. “Well then, why don’t you show me what you’ve got, Han Jisung?”

He bit his pierced lip in a coy grin, then stood up in front of you. He suddenly grabbed your ankles and pulled you forward so that your legs were hanging off the bed. You squeaked a bit in surprise, but otherwise looked up at him with a curious gaze. He then got down on his knees and reached up under your skirt to take off your panties, tossing them over his shoulder before placing your legs atop his shoulders. Before you could even register what he was doing, he dove headfirst into your pussy, his tongue licking flat stripes up your slit to wipe up your already abundant juices.

“Holy shit, Han!” you cried out, throwing your head back in ecstasy. Your hands instinctively went back into his hair, gripping onto it for stability. He impulsively moaned into your folds, sending vibrations straight to the area you needed him most.

Finally, he flicked his tongue up to your clit, giving it little kitten licks with the tip of his tongue at first but progressing to a rhythmic circling with more pressure as you adjusted to the feeling. He had the perfect intuition for pacing, you almost wondered how he worked with his hands when he was so gifted with his tongue.

You couldn’t wait to return the favor to him and make him utter more of those gorgeous little whimpers. He really was a pretty boy, and he deserved to feel good too. He was going to have to thank Bangchan for setting the two of you up.

Felix:

“Look at me, love.” Felix’s deep voice resonated with you from across the room. He was sat in a chair while you were propped up on his bed, legs spread apart with your now healed tattooed hand playing with your pussy.

You snapped your head up, gazing into his eyes with a drunken haze. About two weeks after your tattoo session, Felix had reached out to you and asked you out. You of course agreed, and you had been seeing each other for a few weeks now. Tonight however, things had gotten significantly more heated between the two of you.

He found himself wanting to toy with you a bit. He couldn’t help himself when it came to that adorable, innocent expression on your cute little face whenever you got lost in his words, or the way your sparkly doe eyes would blink up at him as you blushed at how flustered he made you. You wanted him to fuck you so bad, but he insisted on watching you play with your pussy first.

“Don’t take your eyes off of me.” he instructed, propping his elbows on his thighs as he leaned forward in his chair.

You did as he asked, simply wanting to get to the point where he would fuck you. His voice had you in a trance as you locked your eyes onto him, beginning to circle your clit with slow, even strokes of the pads of your fingers.

“You’re so pretty like this, you know that, love?” he inquired, cocking his head to the side with a smirk. His eyes glanced down to your pussy, licking his lips in desire. When he glanced back up and saw that your eyes were still on him, he grinned proudly. “You’re such a good listener too. What a good girl.”

With his low, rumbling voice as your guide, you began to feel your release building up. Your lips parted and your breathing began quickening. You wanted to save your orgasm for his cock, but you wouldn’t dare disobey him.

He sensed your hesitation by the way you were bucking your hips forward and decided to intervene. He stood up from his chair and walked over to you quickly, holding your wrist delicately in his hand.

“That’s enough for now, love.” he smiled softly down at you, brushing some of your hair back with his other hand. “I’ll fuck you now. You’ve earned it, sweet girl.”

He removed his clothes and tossed them into a heep on the floor, noticing how your face lit up as you took in his naked form. This obviously pleased him even further, as he soon revealed a huge, hard erection.

He then pushed you back down onto the bed, crawling overtop of you. He laced his fingers with yours, holding your hand gently against the mattress.

“I told you the hands were sensitive. You can feel every touch.” he grinned, blonde hair flopping over his freckled face. You still couldn’t believe how gorgeous he was. “Are you ready for me, love?”

You placed your freehand on his inked up shoulder, donning the same intimate position you shared when he did your tattoo. “I’m ready for you, Felix.”

Seungmin:

“I told you, baby, no one’s here. You can be as loud as you want.” Seungmin grunted into your ear with a smirk.

You had previously been biting your lip to avoid moaning, but as he reminded you of the fact that you were alone, you gave in and began crying out.

“Yeah, that’s it. You sound divine.”

After Seungmin had finished your tattoo, you loved it so much that you couldn’t help but hug him. However, as you did so, you felt his rock hard erection through his sweats. Flattered, you asked him if there was anything you could do to repay him. One thing led to another, and now here you were, bent over his desk as fucked you from behind.

The large wall mirror was to your side, and as Seungmin glanced over at your reflection, he took in your tattooed ribcage.

“Man, you are rocking the fuck out of that tattoo.” he chuckled admiringly, rubbing his hands along your tender flesh. You winced, but were quickly distracted by his grip on your hips tightening as he pounded into you even harder.

“Look at yourself, you naughty thing, taking my cock so well…” he praised, gesturing with his head towards the mirror. You did as he asked, gasping at the erotic sight before you. He smirked at how well you listened to him. “So obedient, you’re such a good girl, you know that?”

He glanced down at your tits swinging back and forth, and how the plush of your ass pressed up against his hips with every thrust. God, you were a vision.

“Baby… wanna cum in you, is that okay?” he asked for permission, glancing at your face over your shoulder.

You nodded frantically, feeling your own release slowly approaching. “Do it, Seungmin. I want you to fill me up.”

His hips stuttered clumsily a few times, and then he cried out in pleasure, emptying his load inside of you. At the overwhelming full feeling, the cord inside of you snapped, and you began screaming his name through your own orgasm.

Panting wildly, he pressed his forehead to your shoulder. He chuckled to himself, then kissed your cheek. “You did so good, baby. Now, how about you let me take you home for some premium aftercare?”

I.N:

Jeongin was absolutely captivated by you. You had been going out for a month now, and you’d recently made things official. He thought everything about you was so interesting, finding himself transfixed on everything you had to say. He was absolutely smitten for you.

Tonight, your usual make out and groping session went to the next level as you felt him growing hard against your leg.

“Jeongin?” you asked, pulling away from him momentarily.

“Yes, darling?” he replied. He pressed his forehead to yours, intertwining his fingers with yours as he patiently waited to hear what you had to say.

“I just wanted you to know that…” you mumbled, mustering up your courage. You took a deep breath, then looked him in the eye. “I’m ready to take the next step if you are.”

He smiled, beginning to pepper kisses all over your face. “I am too, darling… I’m actually ready right now, if you can’t already tell.” he chuckled between kisses, pressing his hips further into yours to emphasize his erection.

You laughed along with him, then looked up at him with glimmering desire. “Will you please fuck me, Jeongin?”

It was as if you had just shoved a needle of adrenaline straight into his veins. “Well damn, how can I deny my good girl when she asked so nicely?”

After a bit of fumbling around, you were both nude before one another, and he positioned the tip of his dick at your entrance. “You ready, darling?”

You nodded, gripping onto his shoulders. “I’ve never been more ready, baby.”

He moaned airily as he entered you, already overcome with pleasure at the first inch. “Damnit, Y/N… you feel so good.” He then began thrusting forward until he bottomed out, eyes rolling back in his head at the feeling of your pussy clenching around his entire length.

“Oh my god, Jeongin…” you whimpered as he began rolling his hips into yours, setting a steady pace. It felt like his cock was made for your pussy, fitting so snugly inside of you and hitting all the right spots.

“Do you want more?” he asked, panting slightly.

You furrowed your brow in confusion, then gasped as he reached down to grab your ankles, throwing your legs up over his shoulders with his heavily tattooed arms. He kneeled overtop of you, dipping his cock down into your needy cunt.

“Fuck, Jeongin, this angle!” you cried out, hands flying up to sink your nails into the skin of his back.

He winced at the mix of pain and pleasure, picking up the tempo at the sensation. “Yeah, does that feel good, darling?”

You nodded feverishly, too overcome with ecstasy to describe it to him. “Yes, baby… I don’t think I’ll last much longer…” You dragged your nails down his back, scratching him up nice and good as if marking your territory.

“Me neither… wanna do it together?” he huffed with a suggestive smirk.

Your lips parted at the desire-inducing thought. “Oh Jeongin…”

Your hips began thrusting up to feel more of him, and he began pumping himself in and out of you over and over, gripping onto your calves to hold you down in place. You both hit your releases at the same time, just as he had predicted, crying out for each other and gripping onto one another for dear life.

He slipped out of you and grabbed a towel to clean the both of you off, then laid down next to you in a spooning position. He laughed to himself as he wrapped his arms around you, placing a delicate kiss to each butterfly behind your ear. “God, how did I get so lucky…”

[chaotic-mystery]

Pairing: dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: your waitressing job has been going good so far and Joel’s finally warming up to you. Halloween being celebrated at White Pony has to you excited for all the customers you can serve…but what does Joel do when one doesn’t treat you how you should be treated?

Content Warnings: eventual smut bc enemies to lovers okay we’re getting there! 18+ mdni!, mean!joel, drinking, no outbreak!au,reader smokes, Joel smokes, Joel’s bitch ass girlfriend, slut shaming (we don’t like Michelle) groaping, fighting, mentions of wounds and blood, reader has daddy issuessss, Joel finally being NICE (will update as we progress)

Word Count: 4.3K

A/N: This shit is starting to warm up and I am biting my fingers for the barbecue scene okay!!! Will they kith? Maybe. If you can spot all my silly references in here, kiss kiss to you pookie.

Within the last two weeks of training at White Pony to be a waitress and being with Michelle almost every night, you had to see more and more of Joel. The first few days he refused to come in the bar like he always did before you got the job. It was his- as he put it, “place to be away from you.” Nice. 

Michelle was still just as scary as the day you met her. She kept Joel close in her eyesight when you first came to training but as the days passed and she watched you two hardly say any words to each other, she loosened the leash on him again. Since your blow up with him, things were still kind of weird in the way that all you said to each other was, “You done with that?” and “Another round.” 

Tonight you were celebrating Halloween down at the bar and Michelle told you all to come dressed as something, no shift unless you actually try with your outfit. It should’ve been no surprise to her that you'd show up as a blood sucking vampire and not just a regular old boring vampire. The black corset dress with the stockings and glitter everywhere had Michelle’s mouth dropping with shock. “Darlin’ when I said dress up I didn’t mean that dressed up.” Her fake witch nose was kind of crooked with the way she glued it to her face but it suited her. The passive aggressiveness she gave you was really starting to work your nerves but the tips were good here, you could easily talk shit about her attitude later while counting all your bills. 

You smooth down your dress and give a twirl, showing off your boots that you just got in the mail. You’ve already heard from Joel how many packages get delivered daily and that “the mail truck parks too long in front of his driveway” yada yada yada. He whined the same spiel every time you almost had it down word for word. 

Joel’s eyes meet yours as he leans back in the stool and he begins turning slowly while his eyes scan your outfit briefly. A sly smirk forms on his lips, “So just how much garlic should I put around me to keep you away?” His glass meets his mouth, taking a small sip of his whiskey. Your plastic tray falls at your side as your shoulders drop, your eyes low with annoyance. 

“Yeah? You feel proud of that one old man?” you mock, leaning against the bar until all your drinks are done being made. The glasses start to pile up, ready to be taken to the corner of girlfriends celebrating the night all dressed up as different colored crayons.

Your fingers delicately place each glass on the plastic tray and Joel gives a breathy laugh. “I’m proud of that, yeah.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself, cowboy. You're not my type to even sink my teeth into.” The firm tone takes him by surprise and his eyes flicker over your body once more before scoffing. 

“I’m everyone’s type, thank you very much. I’ll take another whiskey too, ma’am.” The devilish grin appears once more which only makes your eyes roll. 

“You aren’t even in my section Joel. Fuck off, get your lady to do it.” You shoot back, the annoyance not shying away from your face at all. Joel nods slowly and turns away from you, finally laying off just long enough to let you get back to your job. Michelle watches you closely as she overhears you telling Joel to fuck off, her stern look burning imaginary holes into you. 

When she busted you for talking like that to Joel, it was just best not to even look at her, this not being the first time she’s caught you with your sailors mouth in full effect.

With the night flying by from a packed bar, the tips were coming in well. Everyone was dressed up as something, leave it to Joel to dress up as…himself. 

“Let me know if you need anything else!” You shout over the music to your newest table and give everyone a smile before retreating to the bar. With Joel and Michelle in the corner canoodling at the end of the counter, you couldn’t help but throw up in your mouth a little. Her costume wasn’t going to last much longer, the evidence of a missing nose so apparent. Her costume was falling off her shoulders constantly, it was a bulky old witch dress and it looked ancient. 

Your hands run along the bar and pat it eagerly like an impatient puppy just ready for another table and more money. 

Suddenly a group of men walk in and the bar gets a tad quieter. The dress shirts they have on are so tight you can see the tank top underneath the fabric. Something about them just stuck out like a sore thumb in the best way possible and you wanted to be the one to serve them.

“Nell, how do I look? I’m gonna take that table and get the best tips for us all tonight.” You giggle and fix your hair while the bartender tells you how good you look. Joel must’ve sensed someone having fun because the next thing you know, an arm was grabbing you and walking you towards the back of the bar away from all the bustle and crowd. 

“Ow Joel, get off me. What are you doing?” You shout, grabbing your arm from his grasp and groan while rubbing the tender skin. 

“No, you aren’t taking them. They’re out of town assholes that sometimes stop in and it’s nothin’ but issues every time. Let Danny take ‘em.” He almost sounded concerned but the look in his eyes didn’t last long before he looked away. 

You stomped your foot softly and groaned, folding your arms across your chest. “Danny doesn’t even pool his tips at the end of the night like he’s supposed to! I can handle it Joel, I’ll call you if I need you to reenact Road house, okay?” You snicker at your reference and walk away before he could argue more, your tray innocently behind you as you walk up to the full table of intimidating men. 

Joel was seething in the corner, his tongue running over his teeth against his closed lips while he watched one already get handsy and try to cop a feel under your dress. Joel Miller was not jealous. He was worried for your safety and you were known to get yourself into some crazy things due to miscalculation on your part of common sense. He was almost too aware of how chaotic you could be at times but at this moment it wasn’t a joke to him. He sat back in his chair and turned it so you were in his view the entire conversation. The glasses of whiskey turned to glasses of water so he could be clear minded if things got sticky. You walked back over and he pretended not to overhear your conversation with Nell about the men fawning over you.  

Joel rolls his eyes and drinks his water, the annoyance you even entertained those assholes after he told you not to, just sitting deep inside his chest. Your small tray was packed with beers and shots of your top shelf vodka and his eyes widened, already knowing how tonight was going to play out. He sighed, smacking his hand on the bar before getting up to change the song on the jukebox. Searching for what felt like forever, he finally landed on one of his old favorites.

Porn star Dancing by My Darkest Days & Zakk Wylde. 

You stupidly sit on one of their laps and try to engage in the conversation but it always turns back to you. Hours go by of the conversation being about you and not in the best way. They’re asking what time you get off, where you got your sexy little outfit, what color were your panties, shit you shouldn’t be asking your waitress. A hand reaches to your neck and squeezes, making your skin crawl inside. They all smell of menthol and nicotine mixed with gray goose, too much liquid courage. 

Joel grabs Michelle and starts dancing with her in the corner, her back to you at the table the entire time. He keeps his eyes locked onto you, very very closely. Even when you extend an arm to grab an empty bottle out of the way his eyes are following.  They kept tugging you to sit back down, making his blood boil and his teeth clenched tightly. Somehow you managed to slip away for just a moment and make your way to the bathroom, darting around the corner into the pitch black hallway that was sheltered from noise. Joel lets go of Michelle and follows you without any sound, trying not to startle you. 

He stands against the wall and listens to your sobs muffled behind the bathroom door. The tears were pure fear and regret. Maybe, just maybe, Joel had a point. Even if you wanted to close their tab and stop serving them it would just make things so much worse for everyone. You got yourself into this mess, now it was up to you to get yourself out of it. You grab a small piece of toilet paper and blot away your tears, the post cry makeup making you look even better than before. Such a silly way of looking at the situation but you couldn’t deny a good cry moment.

A chill ran down your spine as you faced Joel outside of the bathroom, his head hanging to hear better. When the door squeaks open, his head snaps up and his eyes are on yours. With his strong gaze not leaving yours, you clear your throat and shrug like you know nothing. 

“W-why are you outside the ladies bathroom?” You knew why he was out here, he probably saw you run in here and wanted to report back to Michelle, or even worse, tell you, “I told you so..” blah blah. 

“Are you okay?” His hand rubs his neck as he stands up straight, moving closer to you. He reaches out and grumbles as he wipes away a tear. “Can jus’ ask Danny to finish out the table, s’okay if you change your mind.” Your glossy eyes look up at him and you smile, shaking your head no. 

“Can’t. I got this Joel, I just need to get through it and I’m done for the night.” Your hands wrap around your arms, shivering under the A/C vent. Joel’s shoulders drop in frustration and he sighs loudly. 

“Darlin’...” he starts, “don’t do this. Look I’ll tip you whatever they were even thinking about and more jus’ don’t do this to yourself.” His soft words were actually making you reconsider but then again, what did he care? You snap out of it and sniffle, shaking off the sadness. 

“I’ve got it Joel, promise.” A fake smile passes from your lips and he doesn’t take the bait at all. You both walk down the hall to find the table empty of bodies and three dollars squashed under a shot glass with vodka dripping down the side. Three. Dollars. You embarrassingly grab the money and look around confused as to what you could’ve done to deserve a three dollar tip. “God damnit..” you mutter under your breath. The glass clanks together as you begin to clean off the table, not wanting anyone to see this mortifying crime scene any more than they have to. 

Joel’s frame catches in the corner of your eye, his mouth covered by his hand. When you stop cleaning to look at him, he stares right into you and for a split second it doesn’t look like Joel at all. He gets up, snatching the three dollars from your hand and you knew something bad was going to happen. Joel shoves the exit door wide open and smacks the siding of the building. As he marches outside, he sees the fancy car still sitting in the parking lot, the men outside around it cracking jokes and being rowdy. 

“Joel…” You call out and immediately run after him, small struts because of your boots. “Joel sto-”

“S’cuse me fellas. Three dollar tip, really?” Joel chuckles and puts a hand on his hip, the look on his face hard as stone. Here we fucking go, you thought to yourself. Everyone from inside gathers outside and you slowly make your way to Joel, his hand flying in your direction motioning you to stop in your tracks.

“What’d you say, dickhead?” One of the men called out, his words semi slurred. His friends laugh and Joel sarcastically laughs before standing up straight. 

“See, I don’t know where y’all are from but around here we tip our waitresses real nice. Three dollars? Cmon man.” He was maybe thinking they “forgot” to put down a ten dollar bill or something, no way they meant three dollars. 

“Man she was worth three dollars but she can come home with me if she wants for the rest of the tip, know what I mean?” The assholes behind him hoot and holler, clapping their hands together and praising the man for the disgusting comeback.

“Joel stop cmon just drop it it’s fine let’s just go back inside.” You firmly shout, voice cracking from humiliation. Joel turns to look at you and pushes his hand down telling you to calm down. As his boots drag against the gravel making his way to the group of skeezy men, he tuts loudly at them. 

“Do I have to teach you a thing or two about manners, asshole? She’s not a fuckin’ fast food burger that you get for three dollars. She’s worth way more than that. You basically groaped her all night, askin’ what color her panties are, when she’s leavin’, how badly does she want your money, but I don’t have to tell you any of that. You know exactly what you’ve been sayin’ to her all while she’s jus’ doin’ her job. So let me ask you this, you do plan on tipping her correctly, yes?” Joel stopped just as he was toe to toe with the man, not a smirk to be found anywhere except on Joel. 

“Ye-yeah man um, let me get my wallet.” He hastily reaches into his pocket while he stutters apology after apology to Joel. Just as he’s pulling his hand out, he balls it into a fist all wound back to hit Joel. Never once did it connect with his cheek, never. 

Joel grabs the skeeze’s wrist and twists it roughly before throwing him on the ground, his buddies getting up contemplating if they really wanted to do this or not. Joel gets on top of him, throwing punches left and right, grunting with every connection his fist has with skin. Blood trickles down his hand between his fingers and he doesn’t stop until the guy is begging for mercy. 

Wiping his nose and breathing in deeply, Joel gets up and grabs the wallet that was supposed to be taken out before all this started. His bloody fingers split it open and find a bunch of cash, flicking through all the bills. 

“How much was their bill, darlin’?” 

Everyone's eyes were on you and the chattering started to fill your ears. 

You clear your throat roughly and walk closer to Joel by just a few steps, not wanting to get too close. 

“Uh…I don’t remember. It was around 213 dollars I believe…lots of gray goose shots.” Your eyes went wide when he pulled out two 100 dollar bills and folded them, passing it to you between his index and middle finger. You take it apprehensively, staring at the grunting man rolling around on the ground. Joel nods at you a little and asks if you’re okay. Just as your lips part to tell him thank you, someone is running up on him. 

“Joel watch out!” You shout and he pushes you back so much you fall on the ground. A fist hitting him right in the face, “You fuckin’ prick! Wanna piece of me old man?!” The other guy shouts at Joel and hits him, starting to wrestle him on the ground. They roll around causing the gravel dust to stir up and you think quickly on your feet. Going behind the guy trying to wrestle Joel to be on top, you kick him right in the balls with your boots. “Get off of him!” You shriek and grab his hair, tossing him backwards. The audible winces and groans from the crowd echo off the buildings, Joel sits up and looks at you like you were some angel or something. 

Reaching out your hand for a lift, you take deep breaths and help him up off his ass. 

“How was that for your reenactment? You okay?” He asks as he begins to brush the gravel off his palms. The men were on the ground rolling in pain still, such a funny thing to watch. 

Chuckling softly, you turn back to Joel,”Yeah I’m okay. You okay?” You nudge his arm and see his knuckles still dripping blood. A small nod comes from him and you grab his hand slowly to observe the wounds. 

“Should get some ice on that Mr.Miller.” The glimmer in his eye takes you and draws you in, standing there holding onto his hand for far too long. Everyone behind you cleared out and went inside, leaving Michelle there alone. She clears her throat and you snap back to earth and drop Joel's hand rather fast. 

“Take her home Joel. She’s done.”

“What?!” You shout in complete surprise.

“Mich come on baby I don’t think that’s very fa-” Joel’s reasoning is cut off by a groan from Michelle. 

“No! I can’t have a floozy willing to do whatever for tips work here and expect my boyfriend to protect her! You’re done!” She was expressive with her hands just like your mother used to be, which was exactly how you were feeling. A little girl once more and your mom was beyond done with you. 

Your tongue pushes against your cheek and you go inside to get your coat and purse. Nell was the only bartender who didn’t treat you like a monster and she started to get pissed off when you told her the news. Joel and Michelle were outside arguing and you stood by the door eavesdropping, careful they couldn’t see you.

“You’ve never once defended me from a creep like that!”

“Oh Michelle, is that what this is about? Really?”

“No, of course not Joel! You know damn well she knew what she was doing dressed like that coming to work and getting on their laps the way she did! What else did she expect from them?!” Her hands were flying up in the air as Joel’s head dropped, shaking side to side. 

“Michelle she’s just barely started her life, what did you want me to do, hm? Watch them take advantage of her?!” His arms reached out, searching for something that wasn’t there. 

“No but what do you think is gonna happen when she walks around here acting like a slut?!”

As your fast breaths started to fog the glass awaiting Joel’s response or even some sliver of defense, nothing. He said nothing. 

Joel knew that wasn’t true. He watched your driveway like a hawk regardless how many times he said he didn't. Tommy was the first and last person you’ve been with since you moved back but that was none of Michelle's business even if you wanted to get with everybody.The door flew open and you walked to your car, getting in the passenger side. All you wanted to do was cry yourself to sleep, Joel could drive. More muffled sentences rang outside the car, something about Joel calling her tomorrow. You felt pretty buzzed after that encounter until overhearing that fuck ass conversation. That was probably the first time anyone has cared so much about your safety, your well-being, you in general. No one has ever willingly stuck up for you like that and beat someone the way Joel did. Not even your own dad has done that or would ever. You must’ve been replaying in your head the images of Joel beating that man so much because all at once you came back to the now, his fingers snapping in front of your face.

“Cmon, we’re home. You’ve got a cut on your knee sweetheart. Let’s go clean it.” He fumbles with your house keys and unlocks the front door, making his way into your house. 

“Jus’ sit, I’ll be back. Where’s the bathroom?” Shutting the front door, you point to the left and sit slowly to observe the cut. 

It was definitely something. The nylon stocking was tattered and covered with dry blood caked onto the broken skin. Joel arrives with the rubbing alcohol sloshing in the bottle along with a washcloth. 

“I didn’t mean to push you down so hard, m’sorry.” Joel kneels down in front of you and rests your foot against his thigh so he can examine how bad it was. Those beautiful brown eyes were getting you again. It didn’t seem so far-fetched to forget everything, even the conversation you overheard, until he pressed the alcohol to your skin. Sucking in a sharp breath, you grab the armrest of the couch and whimper quietly at the contact. 

“Ow..Joel that-ah-ooh-that hurts.” You suck in sharply again, his eyes going back to your cut. 

“I know baby, I know..I’m sorry, jus’ hold on f’me.” He whispers as he rips the material of your tights until a large hole is created around the scrape. His rough hands covered in blood were so gentle on your leg, his fingers wrapping around the back of your boot covered calf. 

“You should really let me bandage up your hand, can at least do that much for you.” The room went silent and all that was heard was Joel’s deep breaths and the washcloth pressing against you. He sighs and grabs a bandaid from where he set it down on the couch cushion, opening it to cover the wound. 

With a firm press on the edges, his thumbs smooth over the entire bandaid and he glances up at you hoping you weren’t wincing in pain. 

After a long pause he mutters, “I’ll be fine, just need some ice is all. Also um…darlin’..” he started and continues to ever so slightly rub the bandaid. 

“I know you overheard ‘Chelle and I talkin and I just wanted to apologize on her behalf. She doesn’t think those things about you and neither do I, okay?” He didn’t sound too sure that he even believed the words coming from his mouth. 

You were too emotional to argue with him so a small nod was all you responded with.

It was a bullshit apology and it didn’t even need to come from him but there was too much in your head right now, an apology was the last thing you were concerned about. 

Without a word you get up slowly and step onto the front porch with a new pack of cigarettes in your palm. Joel hesitated following but he wasn’t done with you just yet. The front door squeaks open softly and before even turning around you had the cigarette held out for him to take a few drags from. 

“Are you uh..are you goin’ to your dad’s barbecue this weekend?” The smoke rolled out of his mouth and he ashes over the railing.

“I’ve thought about it..” You take a puff and pause. “What would I even say? ‘Hey dad uh I know I just got my job here but I got fired because I was dressed like a slut.’ Mmm, I don’t know, Joel.” All the smoke exited your lungs by the time you were finished talking and the glowing orange light was lifted again as your cheeks hollowed taking another hit.

Joel turns to you slightly, holding out his hand with his fingers spread and ready to take your cigarette. 

“Jus’ don’t tell him anything. He couldn’t even wish you luck or congratulate you for gettin’ the damn job anyway. Asshole.” His face disappears behind a cloud of smoke and it was probably for the best due to the shit eating grin on your face while his words echoed in your head. 

“So you’re finally getting it I see, Mr. Miller.” The cigarette slowly dwindles and he lets you have the last drag. 

“I can’t see why he’d ever treat you like that, I wouldn’t dream of treating you that badly and you really know how to work my fuckin’ nerves sometimes, little girl.”

The pair of you laugh and Joel flicks the cigarette butt on the driveway, shoving his non fucked up hand in his pocket. The dim porchlight hardly illuminated his face but the moon on the other side made up for what you couldn’t see. 

“Get some sleep, you’ve got job hunting to do tomorrow.” His boots clunked against the wooden floorboards of the steps, gravel crunching as he got further across the way to his sidewalk. 

“Oh, one more thing sweetheart!” He shouts from his porch.

“I’ll back you up no matter what. He doesn’t know you anymore, not like I do.” 

Your face was hot to the touch from his words. Joel Miller finally finding his heart? Who knew he had one? Each of your front doors closed and you went to sleep that night just imagining how the barbeque is going to go. Joel fell asleep that night with a bag of frozen peas on his knuckles and a small grin on his face.

[wastelandlovingscenarios]

undeniable | porter gage x female! sole survivor

a/n: am i finally back on my bullshit, uploading on a random sunday night? this is different from what i usually write, but hey! im definitely writing something. im too tired to revise or edit this bc its 12 AM, so ill look it over in the morning. just thought i'd post something silly.

♡ based off a modern au where gage and the sole survivor are childhood bestfriends in another life.

For as long as Gage can remember, she’s been a burden. Being nearly five years older than her and her guardian -- or her best friend, as she likes to call him -- he’s always felt inclined to watch over her. He doesn’t know why, he knows he doesn't necessarily need to, but the thought of abandoning her feels wrong. So he tries to find reasons as to why -- was it because they both grew up in terrible conditions together and only had each other? Or was it because he knew the moment he let her dumbass go into the real world alone, she’d somehow get herself killed? 

He shakes his head. Finding a reason was nothing but a waste of time, his mind overworking itself more than it already was. He dumbs it down to simply getting used to the routine of caring for her since they were children. If he fucks up his schedule now, he’d have to go through the trouble of rearranging everything around once again and readjust to his new lifestyle. 

‘Yeah,’ he thinks to himself, unlocking his apartment door, twisting the knob, ‘It’ll be nothing but fucking trouble.’ 

Once he pushes the door open, his boots thumping against the tiled floor of his apartment, he sees her sitting on the couch, distracted by the show playing on the television. His eyes darted over to the coffee table in front of her, papers and open textbooks strewn across the poor thing, obviously untouched and just displayed prettily to mimic the idea that she was being productive. 

With a low grumble, he tosses his bag on the counter nearby and takes off his boots before grabbing the remote lying on the couch. She’s so invested in her little show that she barely even notices him walking in with a scowl and an annoyed sigh. Sole jumps when the television shuts off suddenly, a gasp leaving her lips before turning her head to the side. 

“Hey, I was watching!” she whines, already rising from the couch to pick another fight with him. He doesn’t show any reaction and instead, crosses his arms with an unimpressed expression while he holds the remote hostage. 

She tries her best to grab it from his hand but he rolls his eyes, gently pushing her back down onto the couch. 

“Quit watchin’ and start studyin’. Yer not gonna get shit done like this.” 

She huffs angrily, her eyes narrowing at him, “Gage, a little break wouldn’t hurt every once in a while.” 

“And what have you accomplished since I left for work this afternoon?” 

Sole swallows nervously, her mouth going dry at his questions as she opens and closes it, trying her best to stand her ground. He raises a brow, giving her a chance to respond and redeem herself, but he already knows. She was a fool for thinking she could get away with such a lie, knowing that Gage knew her better than anyone else.

“Thought so,” he stuffed the remote in the back of his pocket, “Now be a good girl and finish yer damn work. I’m not paying yer tuition for you to fuck around.” 

Sole groans but listens obediently, pulling the coffee table closer to her. She grabs her laptop and unlocks it, opening her notes before reaching over to snatch one of her textbooks. 

“I don’t understand why you’re on my ass about my studies so much, Gage,” she complains, highlighting something in her book a bit roughly, “You didn't even finish high school, so why does it even matter?” 

He doesn’t spare her much of an answer, walking over to the kitchen to find something to cook for them, “Exactly my point. You wanna be better than me.”  

“But you make so much money, you’re able to provide for both of us!” she throws her hands in the air, desperately trying to prove a point to her stubborn roommate, who seemed to be firm on his words.

“That’s only because I got connections. Now shut your mouth and study.” 

He doesn’t find much in the fridge nor the cabinets, silently setting a reminder in his mind to do a grocery run first thing tomorrow before work. Eventually, he decides to heat up some leftovers they had for lunch and cut up some fruit for her to snack on while she did her work. It’s shit, he knows, but it’ll do till tomorrow. 

He makes his way back to the living room, plopping on the couch next to her and setting the food on the coffee table, maintaining a good distance between their dinner and her work. The last thing he wanted was to spill anything on her laptop and notes -- it would only give her another reason not to be productive. 

He doesn’t say much, but his eyes flicker over to her for a moment, a small smile on his face at the sight of her seemingly focused on her work now, a sense of satisfaction overcoming him. Gage leans back on the couch, pulling his phone out to distract himself while he kept her company in the living room. He takes a few bites of his portion of the leftovers, glancing at Sole here and there to ensure she was still on track. 

It’s a peaceful few minutes, he can’t recall how long, as they both sit in silence, her music playing softly in the background to fill up the white noise. Suddenly, he hears a sigh, sounding a bit defeated, and his eyes set on her sulking figure. 

“Gage, I know that you want the best for me, but I’m nearly twenty-three and you still treat me like a kid.” he stares at her, not showing any reaction but notices how she refused to make eye contact with him, her eyes glued to the screen of her laptop. 

When she doesn’t get a response, she closes her eyes before turning her body towards him, her expression serious, but he can see right through her. She’s pleading, but not in an annoying bratty way like she usually does, so he decides to listen to her troubles. 

She scoots closer to him and he watches, his phone long forgotten in his hand, “I’m really grateful for you and all that, but you need to trust that I can do well in school and balance my time. You can’t take care of me forever.” 

Instead of getting a response like she’d hope for, she was met with the usual silence he often provided her when she tried to set her boundaries. With an irate expression, she turned back to her laptop, her face flushed in embarrassment, feeling like her words vanished into thin air. 

She should’ve known better than to talk to Gage — he was a man of few words and she didn’t know why she expected him to at least say something to show that he at least cared about her feelings one way or the other.

Before she could continue studying to hide her embarrassment and anger, she hears his voice and freezes. 

“I know.” his voice is gravelly, a bit of exhaustion mixed into it, and her head shoots to him, a bit stunned at his broken silence. Her eyes are wide, body paralyzed at the sudden response. There’s a slight flush on his face but she convinces herself it’s the lighting. 

Definitely. 

He knows she’s waiting for more than just that and he sighs, crossing his arms as he makes eye contact with her the best he can without losing his shit, “Just want you to have a good future. Want you to live a better life than what I’m giving you right now before I send you off.” 

Suddenly, she’s overcome with guilt and she immediately leans over to him, her hands finding his as she cuts him off, “No, that’s not what I meant!”

With another breath, she composes herself before speaking. 

“Gage, you’ve given me everything I’ve wanted and needed, the last thing I’ll ever do is criticize your care for me. I don’t plan on leaving your side, even when I get a better life.” 

His heart twinges and his feelings for her resurface, but he pushes it down. 

She pulls on the sleeves of his hoodie, playing with the fabric with her fingers, “I just want you to trust me more. I know I’ve been slacking a bit, but I’d never fail school, especially when I know you’re working hard to provide for both of us and paying for my tuition. I’d never do that to you.”

“Wouldn’t say I’m working hard,” he downplays it, not wanting her to fret about such a miniscule matter. 

She groans, “You work twelve hour shifts everyday. Sometimes fourteen!”

He shrugs nonchalantly and Sole pouts at his stubbornness, smacking his arm with annoyance. Gage bites back a smirk, amused by her behavior and catches her wrist midair, her eyes rolling. Instead of providing her with a response, he digs in his pocket and hands her the remote to the TV and her eyes light up, a smile forming on her pretty face. His heart aches at the sight. It was such a small action but it was more than enough to validate her feelings. 

“Thank you, you’re the best!” she jumped over, throwing her arms around his neck as she embraced him tightly. 

His face flushed heavily and tried to seem annoyed to cover it up but the stutter in his voice and the tenseness of his shoulders gave it away. Gage pushed her away with his hand as he groaned quietly, “I get it, don’t need to be so damn happy about it.” 

However, she pecked his cheek and he froze instantly, his body paralyzed and his voice raising in embarrassment, “Q-Quit it!”

She giggles and doesn’t take much offense to his words, knowing that he was nothing but a big softie for her. As she released him, she smiled at him happily once more before turning to the TV and putting her show back on. 

Gage rubbed the spot where she kissed, his face a deep red as he tried to regain his composure. Suddenly, he pushes down the real reason of why he refused to leave her side for the millionth time, reminding himself that there were several other possibilities other than that. 

‘What a damn burden,’ he thinks to himself, desperately trying to fight back his feelings for her, his eyes glued to her gleeful form next to him. 

Suddenly, her kiss lingered on his skin a little too long, the feeling of her arms around him marking his skin, and he’s left absolutely horrified, realizing that he could no longer convince himself otherwise. 

Maybe accepting it was better than constantly running and Gage thinks it over for a moment but ultimately shakes his head, wanting to do anything but that. 

‘Just a stupid thought. Some stupid fucking feelings,’ he settles for that answer but knows deep down that he’s already lost the battle, his heart hammering in his chest. 

[the-cookie-of-doom]

split/kid! Kim AU as promised 😘

send me an ask and I'll tell you about one of these WIPs!

I haven't thought about this fic in so long I forgot it even existed, but I added it to the list just for you <3

In this fic, through ~magical handwaving~, Kim's younger self is split from his adult self. It was meant to only cut out his memories/trauma (bc Kim will turn to magic before therapy), but oops! Turns out all those memories became a whole person! So now there's a ~13 year old knife-wielding Kim running around the compound, and adult KimChay have no idea. The significance of that age is that's how old Kim was the first time he killed someone, and he sees that as the thing that ruined him as a person. So if he can get rid of the part of himself that decided to be a murderer, maybe he can become a better man for Chay. Spoiler, that's not how it works.

The whole idea behind the fic is Kim learning to forgive himself for the things he had to do to survive. It's a lot harder to blame yourself for life going wrong when you have to look that frightened child in the eyes and tell him everything is his fault. Kid Kim is also a darling, and the brother feels make me weep.

Chay’s phone is ringing on the nightstand. He reaches blindly for it, preoccupied with Kim’s mouth on his own.  “Ignore it,” Kim murmurs, giving Chay’s bottom lip a chastising little bite. He’s half on top of Chay, both of them naked, hands wandering, and well on their way to a second round. Kim is making a very compelling argument, but… “It’s hia,” Chay says, and finally grasps his phone, hitting “accept” on the second to last ring. Kim huffs at him and starts pressing warm kisses along his jaw instead. “Hello?” “Chay,” Porsche greets jovially. “Question for you. Why is your boyfriend a child?”  “... He isn’t?” Chay looks down at Kim, now mouthing at his collarbone, just to make sure. And yep, still the same twenty-three year old he’s been for the last four months.  “I’m literally staring at him, and he is.”  “I’m literally naked with him, and he isn’t. I think I would have noticed.” Porsche snorts on the other end of the line. Kim looks up at him curiously, his tongue tracing wet circles around a nipple. Chay tugs his hair to make him stop but it only encourages him to bite. “Want to tell me why you think Kim is a child, hia?”  “I’m a what?” Kim asks, his voice low and rough and dripping with judgment. “Has your brother lost his mind?”  “See for yourself.” Seconds later Chay gets a text alert. He pulls up the messages, and nearly drops his phone when he sees the picture that loads.  There, sitting beside Kinn, wearing obviously borrowed clothes and the stormiest scowl Chay has ever seen, is Kim. Unmistakably, irrefutably Kim. Chay, left gaping and unable to speak, turns his phone around to show his lover.  “... Hm.”  “What the fuck?” Chay whispers. Then, “Porsche, I’ve got to go. We’re on our way.”  He ends the call.  “You’re not surprised. Why are you not surprised?”  “I’m surprised.”  “Really? Because you sounded like I just told you the road flooded in monsoon season.” Chay pushes himself up to his elbows, dislodging Kim. “What gives? What did you do?” “Why do you think I did something?” “Because there’s two of you!” “... I didn’t do anything that would have done that.” “But you did do something.” Silence. Kim refuses to meet his eyes. “Kim.” “It wasn’t anything bad! I just… Look, don’t be mad, okay?” Chay takes a deep breath, and then another. They’ve been together for two years now. They’ve seen each other through a lot. Chay can confidently say they’ve reached a place where Chay would forgive him for anything, because he trusts Kim not to do anything unforgivable.  “Tell me what happened, then we can figure out what’s going on,” Chay says. “I might have… gotten rid of… my memories. Of my childhood.” “... What?”  Kim squirms. He pulls the blankets up higher, suddenly vulnerable in his nudity. At least he doesn’t try to run away.  “You’re always telling me to go to therapy. I thought I could go straight to the source, cut it out, then,” he takes a shuddering breath, “then I would be okay.” “Kim, you can’t—that’s not how it works.” Kim shrinks in on himself. Chay doesn’t let him hide, drawing Kim into his arms when he tries, clutching him close. “That’s—that’s half your life! And it’s just, what, gone?” “I thought it would be. Guess not. I promise I didn’t know this would happen.”  “And you were just going to hide this from me?” Kim shrugs. Chay’s heart clenches wondering how long Kim could have gotten away with it. He never talks about his childhood as it is, like he’s already locked that part of himself away. “When do your memories start, then?” “When I was thirteen, I think.” “Why that age?”  “That was the first time I killed a man.” Kim squeezes his arms around Chay’s middle, hiding away in his shoulders. Quietly, he adds, “That’s what broke me.”  The day he lost his innocence, Chay thinks. He stopped being a child when he took his first life.  Except he doesn’t believe that for a second. Trauma isn’t what makes someone an adult; Chay would know. Kim was still so young, and he must have been terrified. Alone. 

[green-typewriterz]

hey there :) ! fun idea: cowboy/sheriff sam winchester in some southern town, maybe the reader could be a bandit and they repeatedly run into each other (maybe sam lets them get away at times, like it’s half rivalry half admiration) but there’s some creature around that forces them to work together ? fluffy end too bc I’m a sucker for riding into the sunset endings

Raise Hell

Cowboy!Sam Winchester x Bandit!Fem!reader

summary: 1800s AU - you’re a bandit, Sam’s what the Sheriff would call ‘a demon hunter’, they just happen to come by your camp

Warnings: injury, mentions of guns, demons, its the 1800s…so…, timeline may be weird, no specific season

Author Notes: this was much longer than I intended but enjoy. Also i know this is u H, i recognise your typing style

word count: 4046

You sighed as you walked past the third wanted poster with your face on it that morning, tearing it down while whispering a, “they never get my nose right.” To yourself. You continued on your journey, assuring yourself and your horse, Songbird, that there wasn’t that much longer to go.

After hours of travel, you set up camp a ways out of a town, staying in the shrouds of the shadows. You didn’t need any townsfolk spotting you and handing you in. You were sitting at the fire, eyes watching the skyline as the wood spit ash onto the floor by your feet, almost like a warning.

There would be a passerby every now and then, but no one important enough that you noted anything particular about them.

“Evening Ma’am.” A voice called, tone harsh and strong like the old folk singers. You looked up, but kept your hat low on your head, covering your face in the same deep blue of the sky.

Two men stood in front of you, broad shoulders and polite smiles. You knew who they were, of course you did. The Winchester name was well known across most of America, though you were never sure how much of it was legend. You decided not to take any chances. You nod to them silently, not sharing the same courtesy to smile back.

Sam spoke next, sounding a lot less irritated than his counterpart. “You wouldn’t mind if we rested with you for the evening would you? Our horses are tired and so are we.”

There was silence for a moment as you thought. You should say no - it was in your best interest to do so. But they hadn’t seemed to recognise you yet, and, with the bandanna you had quickly pulled over your mouth, they shouldn’t for the rest of the evening. You nodded once more.

Dean sighed at your silence but sat anyway, opposite the fire from you so he could try and see your face better - something you were trying your hardest to not let happen - while Sam went and hitched their horses next to yours.

”She’s beautiful.” Sam said to you, gesturing to your horse. Songbird was a full black shire horse with a large white strip along the nose. She was certainly flashier than was wise for a bandit, but you got her when you were young and you’d rather die than part with her.

You smiled and stood, heading over to the three horses. “She’s smart as hell, my best judge of character.” Sam laughed gently, looking over at you as he petted the blonde horse in front of him. You tried not to speak too much - though you weren’t sure how recognisable your voice was, you didn’t want to risk it. Sam stared at your hands, noticing how a large scar pulled its way along your palm - unusual in shape.

”Same with my Riot, he’s an Arabian so he’s pretty judgmental. Dean’s is the worst though, Baby’s so temperamental it’s almost impossible to get anything done” You smiled and looked over at the sleek black Hanoverian - you noted how well kept it was.

You both made your way back to the fire and sat, refastening the clasps of your boots to save you doing nothing.

The sun had fully set by now and night bit at the fire, causing it to settle into embers. Sam leaned against a tree, and you assumed he was sleeping while Dean sat opposite, his eyes still trained on you as if you would draw your gun.

It seemed as though he had planned to calm down when a series of cheers echoed across the valley. Both of you looked up, eyes sharp. You’d recognise the voices anywhere and you’d wager that the boys would too. Dean ran for his horse, not bothering to wait for his brother and rode after them.

You woke Sam quickly and headed for Songbird, apologising to her for the loud noises. The two of you rode after the older officer, but soon realised that you were being circled by the gang. You signalled to Sam to take a different route, but he was too focused on his brother and was quickly knocked off his horse by a bullet to his arm. You pulled to a stop and got out your pistol, Shooting at the bandits as they passed. They didn’t want you, nor Sam really - they just wanted to cause chaos.

Your shots rang as a warning and the gang cleared out, leaving you, two scared horses and a bleeding officer who would most likely arrest you given the chance. “Dean.” Sam called out but you silenced him, putting pressure on his arm.

”Shut it. You’re brother’s probably alive.” You spoke quickly, helping him to stand. Using a mix of his own strength and yours, he climbed onto the back of your horse and held his arm tight around your waist. You gripped the loose rein of Riot’s leash and headed back to your camp, quickly and quietly.

When you returned, you found your camp ransacked. Food was missing from your bags and small smoke clouds trailed from the now put out fire. They didn’t want you to find it again, which most likely meant they’d be returning for the rest. You’d have to be gone by the next evening.

Sam was pale and his eyes were fluttering every so often. You were warm and it was hard to breathe so with a sigh you pulled the bandana from your face and wrapped it around his arm, securing the wound and partially stopping the blood flow. Luckily, the bandits hadn’t had time to go into the packs in your tent and you smiled in relief when you pulled a large bottle of whisky from it. You poured some over the injury then took a large swig, wincing at the bite of the alcohol.

You’d let Sam sleep for now. He could get proper medical care when he returned to the sheriff's station, hopefully without you in handcuffs.

Sam was lucky in the sense that he got sleep that evening, something you weren’t so blessed with. Fatigue pulled at you and you found yourself playing with the remaining hot embers to stay awake - though they were dwindling by the minute. Eventually, Sam woke and sat up, his brows furrowing in confusion.

”Morning.” You said simply, sending a nod his way. He groaned in pain and turned to face you, good hand pushing his hair from his eyes. Now your bandana was off, Sam had a good chance to look at you.

His eyes narrowed, taking in your features. “I know you from somewhere.” He said gently, voice raw from pain and sleep. He wasn’t wrong.

1870

You were standing still behind a wall, one hand inching toward your pistol and the other holding money you were currently attempting to steal. It would’ve been an easy escape, you could’ve ran, called your horse and been clear of the town before anyone noticed but the new ‘specialist’ that had been travelling through Texas had to get in the way.

He tackled you to the ground, pulling the money from your hand and pinning you with minimal force. “Ow.” You said with annoyance, trying to move your hand so you could reach your blade that hid in your waistband.

The man’s gaze was stern as he kept you pinned against the hot sandy floor. “What are you doing?” He asked, voice harsh with suspicion. You sighed and turned your head to the side so you could actually breathe and rolled your eyes.

“Is it any of your business?”

“Ow.” He replied, mocking you. You stared at him, finding it unusual how a man of his profession had such long hair, which was cut into a small fringe and was falling slightly over his eyes. He eventually relents and allows you to stand, hand resting on his pistol as he places cuffs on your hands.

He took in your outfit, noticing how you wore dark denim and black leather, the only thing standing out was a red bandana. You certainly looked like a bandit.

You sighed and held up your hands, looking at the handcuffs in annoyance. “Seriously? You’re gonna cuff me? How are you so sure I’m a criminal?” You asked, voice bored - this had happened far too often to be entertaining at this point. He went to reply, when a deep voice yelled his name.

Sam.

He turned, breaking into a sprint and leaving you cuffed there. “You’re not gonna-” You began but sighed, realising he wasn't coming back and walked grumpily toward the abandoned blacksmith’s saw - not a good idea in retrospect, but it got you free.

1872

Sam walked idly into the sheriff’s office, hand reaching up to remove his Stetson when he saw you, sat in the gaol with your arms leaning on the bars. You were wearing a lighter shade now, mostly donning browns and blues, though the red bandana was still safely tied around your neck.

“You don’t seem very good at your job.” He said, smirking as he walked closer. You looked up at the man, sighing when you saw him. His hair had grown longer, sitting gently by his chin.

You leaned back in the seat and the cuffs on your feet clink, “I’ve been a bandit since ‘65…and I’ve been caught twice - though I’m not counting the first since you didn’t technically arrest me.” You replied, staring with boredom at the dirt under your nails. He nodded in response, reasonably impressed at you.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, him watching you with tired but amused eyes and you fiddling with the cuffs around your ankles. Sam’s eyes were drawn to your hands, seeing the large red scar that ripped over it, shining slightly on your palm.

Suddenly, a loud gunshot rang through the sheriff’s range and the both of you sat up straight. A large group had planned an organised attack on the station and, much to your luck, it gave you a proper chance to escape (one which you accepted gratefully). Sam had seen you climbing quickly onto your horse, but he had more pressing matters at hand - at least that’s what he told himself.

1876

He sat in the bar, head in his hand as he played with the whisky glass in his palm - the ice creating a cold film over his fingers.

It was like something from a novel, the way you stood in the doorway, a perfect silhouette. You stepped into the light, looking overly annoyed at nothing in particular and Sam almost didn’t recognise you. The lace gloves on your hands looked as though they itched and he was surprised you could breathe in the corset,, but you looked…different, all the same. It seemed as though you didn’t recognise him either as you took a seat next to him at the bar, signalling for something (anything) to drink.

“Bandit?” He asked, eyes stuck on you. You turned slowly, recognising the voice. He had certainly changed, in fact, he almost resembled a man, though his face was still slightly too young for this to be true.

You smiled, sipping your drink. “Sam. And it’s Y/n.” you replied, sending a nod his way. Sam replied with the same courtesy and furrowed his brows, looking at the amount of skirts and ruffles that you wore. You took notice and sighed, fiddling with the outer lace. “Not my choice, too difficult to run in - but my brother chose the dress code for his wedding and the jacket wasn’t acceptable.” You complained, voice tired.

He laughed, though noted to himself that you had kept the bandanna around your face - no doubt the pistol was still hidden somewhere.

The two of you drank for a long while, sharing short stories (you trying to keep the more illegal details out) and talking about your brothers. However, it seemed as though all of your meetings would be short-lived.

“Ma’am.” A voice called, stern and unwelcoming. It was a voice you recognised (you had taught yourself to remember every voice of every Sheriff in the state…for your own convenience). You shared a look with Sam, you’d been recognised.

You sighed and agreed, standing and leaving the bar. “I don’t doubt we’ll see each other again, Sam.” You said simply, heading back toward the wedding.

1883

“Hello.”

Sam turned, smiling as he recognised you. You were back in the usual attire, red bandanna seeming more red than usual…if that were possible. You were standing, leaning against the wall with one hand lazily resting on your belt.

He found himself smiling. “I should technically arrest you,” He stated, standing in place by his horse. You grinned in reply, moving closer to him with a simple smile.

“Who cares about technicalities?”

You kept your hand on your holster, the other by your side, mirroring his pose. Your eyes moved to his hand, noticing how his fingers twitched in some sort of anticipation (though you weren’t sure whether he was going to arrest you or something much more exciting). Sam’s head cocked to the side, following your every movement with an unreadable expression, then he almost whispered, “wasn’t it fun though, me putting you in handcuffs?”

Sam had aged rather drastically in your few years apart, his jaw was harsh and square and his hair flicked, slowly but surely nearing his shoulders. He was broader too - before he had been young and as lean as a six foot four man could be but now he was all muscle, large shoulders and strong arms. He looked built for the job now. Sam’s scarred hands played over his belt buckle and your eyes flitted over it, seeing a small star sigil with a circle wrapping around it - something you recognised.

A smile played on your lips and you moved away again, fingers tucked through the loops of your jeans. “Smooth,” you spoke lazily, then turned just before you reached your horse, adding on, “but yes, it wasn’t too bad.” He laughed gently and you climbed onto Songbird, leaving him staring after you yet again.

1884

“Bandit.”

You smiled, nodding your head lazily. “Is my name so hard to forget?” You replied almost snarkily, a hint of something else hidden in your tone. You leaned down, wrapping any spare cloths you had found around his injury - you knew better than to remove the bullet.

Sam laughed gently, voice slightly weak. You looked up, brows furrowed in confusion as he spoke. “I just find it a funny sight…a bandit fixing up a ranger.”

You smiled too, now, shaking your head gently - you tried to ignore his wince as you tightened the scraps around his shaking arm. “You’re not really a bull though, are you?” He shook his head in response, sitting up slightly as if it would be a task to explain what he does.

”No. I’m more of a…specialist?”

”Oh, so a hunter.”

Sam went silent, almost in a state of shock - he wasn’t sure how to reply so instead he resorted to a simple nod and you went back to bandaging him, talking absentmindedly. “I am too, technically. I’m just more… illegal about it.” You spoke and he laughed, nodding once more in agreement.

You finally leaned away from his arm and sat by the completely extinguished fire, eyes stuck to him. “How about we go searching for your brother?” You asked, arms crossing. He moved closer to you and began to set up the fire once more, prompting a confused look from you.

”We’ll go in the morning, it’s not safe to travel now. I wouldn’t be able to fight in case anything happened.” He replied, adding, “a days more rest.” You nodded and leaned back against a large rock, eyes lidded as they flitted over to the slowly growing fire.

The night had grown dark, flurries of rain filtering through the deep blue sky. You were still awake, running your hands through your hair softly. Sam was sleeping, as soundly as you could with the annoying, spitting type of rain running down your face. It picked up after a while and under the harsh cover of night you could swear you heard the beating and repetitive sounds of hooves against wet sand.

You were, unfortunately, proven right and the very same bandits from two nights ago stormed you, coming back for what they had left. You knew you couldn’t leave Sam behind and resorted to a good old fashioned knife fight. If any gunshots were heard, they didn’t wake Sam - this type of noise was far too familiar in Texas.

You managed to fend them off until they gave up, but garnered a few nasty cuts on your arms. It was something you’d handle later on. Rain beat down now, choking you and you’re not sure what’s water and what’s blood in the dark.

The sun rose again - as it had always done - and your role of tending the fire dwindled to watching it die as Sam awoke beside you. “You’re hurt. How?” He asked, leaning close. Both yours and his wounds seeped in unison, weeping at each other for retribution.

”It’s usually the job description of a bandit to be hurt.” You replied, declaring to both him and yourself that it was no one's business. He didn’t relent.

He drew nearer, hands twitching in want - to help you as you had for him. Though, Sam couldn’t find it in himself to speak on the matter and moved on to something much more pressing. “Dean is alive. Back in town I’d wager.” You looked over, glad he had moved on.

You raised a brow. “And you’re sure how?” He allowed your confusion, offering a sort of explanation for the matter.

”His horse, if he had been hurt, Baby would ride straight back here.”

“What if Baby’s dead.”

Silence. No one had ever offered the idea. No one liked to think their pet would die. “That damn horse is invincible. Keeps on going. It’s been two days, they’re back in town.” Sam assured, watching you poke idly at the sand.

You nod and stand, brushing the dirt off of your knees. “Let's go meet him then.” You said simply, heading over to your horse. The knife wound on your thigh tugged at your movements and you tried to brush it off, hoping the limp wasn’t too visible.

The air was heavy and humid, ripping air from your lungs and sitting hot against your skin. “What happened?” He asked gently as the two of you headed in the direction of the town. Sam’s eyes lingered on your skin, tracing over where sweat stuck your clothes to you.

”It was nothing, a few of the bandits came back. It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” You replied, pulling your collar away from your neck in irritation. The heat had risen with impossible speed and for once you were happy that your bandanna wasn’t secured around her neck. You leaned against Songbird as you rode, skin damp.

Sam watched from beside you, noticing how quiet and calm you seemed. “And you’re not bleeding out? I can help-“

You shook your head. “No need. I don’t want you to return any favours,” You looked at him with a smirk, “I might need a ‘get out of jail’ pass some day.” He laughed, turning back to the open path.

As if sent from the heavens, the wind picked up and cooled your skin, blowing warm air across your body - though you would’ve appreciated a cold breeze, this’d have to do. The morning had become midday, sun high in the sky and air foul with an uncomfortable smell, when Sam stopped still, both him and Riot seemingly staring off at nothing.

You came to a stop too, listening. Watching. “What?” You whispered, but then you saw it, so far away it could’ve been a speck. The breeze, the smells. It was a demon. There was a quick nod shared then the both of you took off toward the old barn. It was the only thing for miles and you were both sure that no human could live out here without supernatural assistance.

Sam usually would’ve taken time to plan, but he had been hunting this thing for far too long and irritation had whittled his patience down. He took the blade from his belt and pressed his back hard against a half-ruined wall while you went around the back, a bottle of holy water you kept in your pocket securely in your hand.

Of course, it had been expecting you, and your ambush was more of a self-sacrifice. Your back hit the barn wall harshly and you hit the ground, the holy water falling a ways away. Sam was next to fall, blade being ripped from his grasp. You sat up, groaning in pain and looked over. It was a man, one who had clearly been a bandit.

Pain ripped through your thigh and you looked down, seeing the stab wound tearing wider than it had before. You turned your head to the side, seeing the demon fighting Sam. He certainly had the mis advantage however and was moments away from his own knife entering his chest.

”Hey!” You yelled, standing up again. The demon. You wiped the sweat from your brow and pulled the colt from your waistband. “Christo, bitch.” You pulled the trigger and the demon crumpled to the floor, a mess of sinew, blood and demon ash.

Sam stood, wiping the sweat and blood from his brow. “Nice shot.” You nodded at him and walked back out the barn, your limp much more pronounced - something you could’ve expected.

——

The both of you reached town, ugly stains of red littering your clothes and skin. Dean was standing on the porch of the Sheriff's station with bruises of his own - though his weren’t as frequent and had nearly healed. He pulled his brother into a fierce hug, hand pushing the back of Sam’s head into Dean’s shoulder (if he had seen Sam wince he didn’t take note of it).

You watched from a distance, leaning next to your horse tiredly. Before you could turn to leave, cuffs were placed around your hands, guiding you away from Songbird. You looked up at the Sheriff with angry eyes, voice harsh and raw from fatigue, “I just saved your boy’s life. Multiple times.”

Sam looked over, brows furrowing as he saw you being led inside. He would’ve followed - he had all intention to - but Dean held him back with a harsh grip against his palm. “Sam. She’s a criminal.” There was a wager in his mind: he wanted to do the right thing - to free you, but a more guilty part of him won. He didn’t want to disappoint his brother. Sam turned away and your eyes tracked him in disappointment, though you know you shouldn’t have expected much.

Night fell fast, and the usual heat of Texas was replaced with splintered wooden floors, a sticky yet icy breeze and cold metal bars. You picked at your nails, trying to clean any remaining dirt out from underneath. Your weapons had been seized and without both them and your bandana you felt exposed.

You were just warming up to the idea of getting comfortable when a shadow covered the moon light that streamed through the windows, one with broad shoulders and a Stetson. The door of the cell swung open slowly, quietly and the shadow stepped to the side. “Go to your horse and leave.” The shadow whispered.

Sam.

A rough hand placed a piece of red cloth into your palm and a soft breath tickled against your ear. “Think of it as me returning the favour.” Through the filtered moonlight you could see Sam’s face, the old bottle windows scattering the night scene across his features like glitter. You smiled gently and leaned forward, placing a kiss to his lips. It was something slow and gentle, something memorable.

But then, you were gone, leaving no trace that you had been in the cell except the opened handcuffs and the sharp, yet fleeting smell of cherries and tobacco. Sam found himself smiling.

[rjshepherd]

Still in my Dishonored kick. Platinumed 1 AND 2 as of last night, now I'm working on doto, knife of dunwall and brigmore witches. Idk how I feel about the trials BC I've not even looked at them yet.

But anyways here's more art. Re uploading human!Outsider because his art was bugging me. Fixed his jawline, toned down his scars and desaturated the forget-me-not behind his ear BC it was distracting

Pose refs by Mellon-soup

Have more headcanons

More for The outsider

So @je-suis-problematique named him Rasmus and I decided to steal that BC it's a good name.

Since jindosh is losing his hearing, he's made an effort to learn sign language

I know he's cannonically 4000 years old but in my mind he's 17-19, physically at least.

Hella thin and constantly hungry. When he was murdered by the cultists it essentially preserved him in the last moment before he died, including any injuries or conditions like hunger ,thirst or exhaustion. It takes a long time for the feeling to wear off.

Billie brings him to dunwall for a few months to help him adjust to real life again. He spends most of his time sleeping, eating all of Emilys snacks and asking a miriad of questions to anyone who'll listen.

Billie Lurk

I haven't read veiled terror yet so I don't know what she's doing post dh2. In the au she's roving the isles looking for places where the void is opening up like a sinkhole and trying to prevent normal people falling in.

She did take a few months off to set up a lawn chair on a roof in Holger square so she had a front row seat to watch the abbey fall to bits.

Corvo occasionally popped in with popcorn and a spy glass for a better view.

When the void started leaking more and more into the real world billies arm and eye began to sort of stabelize. They still look odd but are definitely easier to disguise. Her eye can now be covered with a patch, although she can still see through it, and her arm resembles liquid gold as much as it does bone and stone.

Teague Martin

So don't ask how or why but this little bastard wormed his way into my top 3 DH characters. This drawing of him took me like 3 days BC I kept getting stuck on it but I'm happy with how he ended up.

Low chaos ending for him. Although I refuse to believe he didn't know his drink was poisoned, I'm fully convinced he drank it on purpose because he couldn't live with the guilt.

In this au he's been friendly with Lamb and Wolf for a fairly long time, since they normally live in Morley where teague is from.

He and Wolf have a friend's with benefits arrangement. They've been seeing each other since before jessamines murder.

During dh1 lamb and wolf relocate to dunwall, partly to deal with the influx of souls related to the rat plague, partly to be closer to teague and his terrible decisions.

He's fully aware that both lamb and wolf are void creatures, not to mention magic users but he justifies his relationship with them by adopting a lesser of 2 evils sort of mind set.

Despite being in his position for power alone, Martin really does what what's best for the empire

After his death, rather than wander the void for eternity he winds up working for them, collecting souls and ushering them to the void.

His tattoos where given to him by wolf, to allow him access to void powers. Wolf's particular gift, her equivalent of the outsiders mark is called 'fatal wound'. usually taking the form of a bite mark around the neck, allows access to extra powers.

Wolf painfully carved his scars herself to give him incredibly customised abilities.

His outfit is a modified overseer uniform, adapted for using movement abilities like blink. The scarf was a gift.

Wolf

Lamb and wolf have a sort of Kindred relationship. They are both void creatures, presumably knowing all the old gods who died before the outsider was created.

Where lamb is inspired by Inuit whaling culture, Wolf takes hers from west indies, 17th century whaling (think assassin's creed 4 style) . She has a more nautical pirate thing going on. Her original design had her eyes covered by a tritip hat rather than her fringe.

Wolf's ears are functional but she's not a werewolf or anything of the sort. Originally lamb had sheep ears but they were covered by her hair. She still has a lambs tail under her clothes though.

To cover her ears in public, she usually uses the silk ribbon on her waist as a bandana.

Although her eyes are always covered, they are the same void black as lambs.

She spends her free time creating bone charms. No one's sure what they do thought...

Originally Lamb and Wolf are from an island near pandyssia. The way they speak of it however makes it seem like the island no longer exists.

Like the kindred, where lamb goes wolf follows. She's never more than a few feet from lamb, even if you can't see her she can sure see you.

Everyone finds her relationship with teague Martin strange. Lamb often refers to him as " wolf's chew toy"

By the time of dh2 she can usually be found in the back room of Lambs apothecary, concocting potions and running the accounts.

I'm super proud of the way wolf turned out. I had no idea where I was going with her when I started, only that I wanted a visual foil to lamb. I think I'll draw them together and do more details about them and maybe their relationships with the other characters

[bubble-popping]

day 48! I was reminded of an au i started writing a while ago thanks to this post by @misty-doodles it's not quite what they described, but i ended up changing the whole trajectory of how the au goes bc of it

Punz glanced around the heavily wooded area, oak trees surrounding them on all sides and blocking out most of the sunlight. A good hiding place for the kind of prey he was tracking. At this time of day, the forest should be alive with the sounds of creatures in the undergrowth and birds in their nests. That wasn't the case. His prey knew he was close. A chance glance down made them pause. They crouched, plucking a white tuft of fur from the ground. Bringing it under his nose, he smelled, and grinned. Roses and carrot stems. His prey was close.

Punz let it fall back down and stood. He pursed his lips and exhaled, letting out a soft, low whistle. Bright blue eyes darted left and right as they walked. The forest went silent. Any noise there had been wisely moved out of the way.

It was a tune Boss had taught them on their first hunt, an unforgettable experience. His first kill. The awakening of their predator instincts; still sharp as ever, nearly a decade later.

A yelp echoed through the woods, reaching their tall perked ears. Their grin turned sadistic and they bolted.

Passing trees, trampling bushes, pushing branches until finally, finally.

His prey hung from one such branch by his rabbit foot. Small grunts of effort left his lips in his fruitless attempts to reach the rope suspending him. Completely helpless, no where to run and no one to help.

The feeling was euphoria. Adrenaline in his veins and endorphins in his brain. Instincts satisfied.

"I gotta hand it to ya," he started, alerting the rabbit hybrid. He struggled harder, fingers desperately straining against his own weight. "Been a while since I had to use methods like this."

His prey glanced up (or down?) to send him a furious glare--presumably anyway, since his prey wore a mask depicting a simple smile. "Fuck off! Leave me alone!"

"'fraid that's not how this works. See, right about now, all the blood is rushing to your head," Punz mused, taking his sweet time in closing the distance. "You're getting dizzy. Slow. Weak. You don't call the shots here."

"What's your problem!? Why are you doing this?!"

Punz stopped an arm's length away, hands in his pockets and a smirk on his lips. "Nothing personal. You've got a bounty on your head and I'm a bounty hunter. That's all." They shrugged.

That seemed to only make his prey angrier. He lashed out, swinging forward with claws bared. They caught him by the wrists, wrapping a thick rope around one before pulling it behind him and yanking the other back as well. The rabbit hybrid struggled against it, but, just like Punz said, he was too weak to get free.

Once that knot was secured, they walked to cut the one holding him up. He let him crash to the ground without warning, eliciting another surprised cry.

And yet, lightheaded and lethargic as he was, his prey managed to get on his feet and start to run. Punz was already impressed by how hard he was to catch in the first place, but to get up and move after that? Icing on the cake.

They stomped on the rope still tied around his ankle. When he reached the limit of the length, all that awaited him was another fall flat on his face.

Punz really wasn't usually this cruel. However, this was one of the toughest jobs he'd been given in a long time. Weeks of tracking, hunting, and his Boss on his ass the entire time made him want to savor every second of this victory.

The most elusive prey. Dozens of other hunters tried and gave up. Nothing was sweeter than succeeding where so many others failed.

They clicked their tongue, mockingly disapproving. He picked up the line of rope and began to tug, punctuating every other syllable when he spoke, "Don't tell me you thought it'd be that easy?" The rabbit hybrid grunted with each drag, visible marks left in the dirt in his wake.

Once he was back, he spoke between heavy breaths, muffled by the mask, "Fuck off... Let... me go..."

"Hmm, let me think about it..." Punz turned to face away from their prey only to step over and plop down on his spine. "No." He wrapped the rope around the long rabbit legs, leaving absolutely no room to even budge, and pulled it tighter to tie it off.

"That fucking hurts!!" He wheezed, squirming uselessly beneath them. "I can't feel my feet!"

"Well, then ya definitely can't run away."

Punz finally got up and flipped his prey onto his back with his foot. He eased down into a squat and reached for the mask. His prey instantly caught on, thrashing around and stretching his neck to avoid the hand, but it was no use. They yanked it off none-too-kindly and merely stared; just content to observe flushed, freckled cheeks and dirty blond bangs stuck to sweaty skin. "It's Dream, right?"

Dream didn't respond, too busy directing all his hatred into his stare. That was all the confirmation they needed.

"Tell me, Dream. What's it like to lose?"

"Fuck. You." And he spat, projecting saliva directly onto Punz's cheek.

He wiped it off with a flick, glancing to the bit of wetness on his thumb. "Yeah, that's about what I thought."

Then, they grabbed Dream by the waist and lifted him up, hoisting him onto their shoulder. He was heavier than he looked, and very wriggly. He'd run out of steam eventually.

"Where are you taking me?" Dream hissed.

"You'll find out soon enough."

[dustofthedailylife]

brainrot time. kaveh and alhaitham with a roommate that’s just a mix of them both

alhaitham’s logic, kaveh’s compassion, alhaitham’s academic inclinations, kaveh’s ‘artistic soul’ (as he would say), alhaitham’s observance and perception, kaveh’s charm, alhaitham’s intelligence, kaveh’s drive, etc. etc. idk

alhaitham’s laziness, kaveh’s impulse control, alhaitham’s sharp tongue, kaveh’s lack of self preservation, alhaitham’s apathy, kaveh’s meddling tendencies, both of their stubborness

they both have a love hate relationship with these traits of yours;

for one, you compliment and contrast them in the important ways, and it’s always a treat for you to show such similarities to them. it makes them feel less alone, more seen.

but then, it’s the same for their roommate, and you end up reminding them of the other.

and that in itself is also good and bad, because despite the fact that they hate each other, that’s still their ex(?) best friend, and those are still the traits that made them fall in love with each other all those years ago (platonically, if you’re not a poly enthusiast.)

anyways, time for fun stuff:

maybe roommate is a researcher that specializes in documentation— specifically, sketching down any relics, sites, fauna and flora etc. etc. that can’t be brought home.

so kaveh is always dragging you into art activities, like those wine painting classes, or simply finding a scenic spot and having a picnic while you do your individual art things together, and alhaitham taking you out to book stores and libraries and cafes.

alhaitham subtly brags about getting to reach his arm around you under the excuse of grabbing a book and sitting close (maybe even low key cuddling depending on how bold you are) to share a book, and hearing your soothing reading voice. and kaveh brags back about one of you holding the other’s hand to demonstrate a specific technique, or him cuddling up to your back to look over your shoulder so he can ‘properly critique’ your work, or the both of you sketching each other.

them trying to subtly influence you to encourage similarities and discourage whatever reminds them of the other.

you just letting them try with a knowing smile :)

you being the referee of their arguments. also saying that you’re staying out of it but instigating anyways

they’ll ask you to judge their debates, and get so smug when you approve or disprove one of their points

them letting the annoying things you do slide but immediately getting on the other’s ass for doing the same thing

teasing kaveh just to see him pout. being only (other) person that could get a rise out of alhaitham

you knowing the best ways to comfort them, show affection, stroke their egos, check their egos, fluster them, and most importantly, piss them off P;

even funnier if roommate is a chaos monger that uses their skills for evil. they will, very occasionally, form a truce just to get you back. y’all have fun.

anywho!! did you ever get a similar brainrot ask with a martial artist!reader? I was just curious, also bc tumblr will occasionally eat my asks

[Roommate AU brainrots]

Hiiii! Yes I got your other ask don't worry. I just haven't had time to reply to it yet since I am a bit on a tight schedule at the moment and wanted to take my time with your brainrots and read them properly 😭

I love this so much! You'd be the perfect counterbalance to either of them.

I'd love to just sit down to draw together with Kaveh. That seems so incredibly comforting and relaxing for some reason. (I also imagine he'd be a red wine guy and I'm a white wine girl so that would be also the perfect contrast for the wine taste haha!). He is my comfort character, don't perceive me, I'm daydreaming 🤭 Also makes me realize I need more artist friends... I have none ;_;

Also going to book stores with Alhaitham? YES. He'd have to drag me out of there at some point because I'm not leaving on my own.

And YES, they'd so brag about what they did together with you to the other guy. They love you but they also have to one up each other constantly lmao.

And about getting in their arguments and them letting it slide when it was you... yep, 100%. Reminds me of that one thing I wrote already called "Cookies". Completely how they'd act.

"Kaveh/Alhaitham did you do XY again" "It was me." "Oh, Y/N? Well, don't worry. I'll take care of it then."

They're down bad BAD.

Thank you for your ask! I loved reading it 🤭

[entityart]

I've been listening to "Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas To Heaven" and on an unrelated note, Ultrakill/Murder Drones AU would go so hard

Putting this under the cut bc major Ultrakill Spoilers

The basis behind this AU is a simple connection. In Ultrakill, there is one thing that only becomes more and more clear as you play - Hell is alive. It is a supermassive organism that has consumed all life and plays with it's inhabitants by putting them against each other in combat to fulfill a sadistic urge for entertainment.

The AbsoluteSolver is a seemingly sentient 3d modeling program which is ever-hungry and puts its hosts against each other, twisting them into flesh-machine hybrids and bestowing upon them incredible power along with a thirst for the lifeblood of others.

In Ultrakill, Blood is quite literally fuel - for the player character, V1, and for the other robots. Guttertanks can be called out in particular as they use human bodies entombed within as a fuel source. This was a way to fuel machines with war itself, until humanity all but wiped itself out.

One of the first actions taken by the AbsoluteSolver is the destruction of earth and near annihilation of humanity. It followed that up by hunting down planets one by one and consuming them.

See where I'm going with this?

Uzi Doorman is safe, for now. On the back of one of the few remaining Earthmovers that haven't succumbed to the endless barrage of others, life is fine, if boring. The flesh-mass of endless battlefields stretch out from underneath it anyway, so there isn't much reason to leave.

Aside for the ever-present need to refuel, anyway.

Supplies are running uncomfortably low, though rationing should still last the colony a while. With very little blood being acquired from tapping the mass below them and oil reserves dwindling, the answer is simple. Go out and hunt. It wouldn't be that hard - hell knows how many robots show up to attack the Earthmover anyway.

Aside from one major problem.

They're called the M-series, one of the last machines produced for the endless cycle of war. Incredibly lethal killing machines that stalk Hell for blood and bodies. Hell seems to favor them, with their territory being the most stable place to be - as long as you can avoid them. As a Drone designed to assist humanity after the New Peace, Uzi wouldn't stand a chance.

At least, that's what everyone says. But it's not like they've tried, and Uzi's been working on something - a weapon built from the scraps of humanity, that should be able to take out anything shy of an angel with a single shot. And with bloody visions pushing her forward, she steps down off the Earthmover to hunt.

After all, to the victor goes the spoils.

And Uzi is hungry.

[nebulous-library]

my thoughts will echo your name until i see you again

Series: Tokyo Revengers Pairing: Kokonoi Hajime x Reader Word count: 5.1k Genre/Content/Tags: Not Safe For Worms - violent themes bc part of this takes place in the Bonten timeline, so if you're not comfortable witnessing Bonten!Koko put a gun in someone's mouth, now it the time to close tab, heavy manga spoilers, do not read if you haven't finished the manga, this fic will not make sense to you, not quite a soulmate au, more of an interwoven destiny kinda love, finding each other in different timelines basically, you’ll see, trust me, i promise the only thing spicy in this fic is the one big Bonten flashback, which just has like standard high level organized crime and violence type shit, u get to see koko get hella businessy and rough with someone who deserved it, yw, anyway just read the summary

[Read on AO3]

**MINORS DNI || 18+ ONLY**

Summary: You were Koko’s girl in the Bonten timeline. However, when the timeline resets, neither of you have ever met. Are you still destined to be? On a chance encounter in the Good Timeline, you stumble upon each other. You feel a magnetic pull and can’t help feeling like you know each other somehow already. “Do you think love can transcend lifetimes?”  

A/N: ...I couldn't hold it back any longer, I wanted to release one of my Koko fics out into the world. This hasn't been beta-read either, I don't wanna burden my beta reader too much with all she has going on.

Once again though, if you're not cool reading about Bonten Timeline Koko blowing someone's brains out, like, literally not sexually, now is your chance to tap out.

If not, then Bone Apple Teeth, my friends.

You didn’t want to do this. You didn’t even know these people. You were only going because Chiyo’s date bailed on her at the last minute. Flaky jackass, you thought to yourself, cursing him for inadvertently sticking you with the task of attending the wedding of a pair of strangers with your friend in his stead. 

Chiyo had told you all about her childhood friend and now-coworker Hina – how kind and friendly she was, how easily she lit up a room and drew people to her, how you’d absolutely love her and wouldn’t at all feel out of place at this wedding. Chiyo was right about all but one of those things. 

The ceremony itself was sweet. You almost felt like you, too, had grown up with this couple and watched their love blossom into what it was now. They cared for each other dearly and it showed. Chiyo introduced you to the bride as the couple made their rounds at the reception, and she had indeed been correct in her assessment – Hina truly was a delight. The only thing Chiyo had been wrong about, though, was your ability to feel at home in this sea of countless strangers. Each of them had something deep and personal to say about the ceremony, or a story to swap about Hina and her husband and the adventures of their youth. You felt like the token fish out of water. 

Your only friend in this foreign place was long gone, busy catching up with the other teachers from the elementary school, leaving you to your own devices. Rather than stand around and stick out like a sore thumb, you made your way to the open bar to busy yourself with a nice peach bellini to ease the anxiety. You sighed as you sat down on the barstool, pinching your temples as the bartender worked on your drink. 

It would have been one thing if you were just alone in an unfamiliar place, but it didn’t help that you were fucking exhausted. At this point, you couldn’t recall the last time you’d had a solid night’s rest. Every time you shut your eyes, no matter how tired you were, your slumber was interrupted by strange dreams that consistently jolted you awake. Most were in the form of blurry vignettes of scenes you didn’t recognize, but that felt like memories nonetheless – low-lit tables with briefcases of bills, long drives through the city at night, taking in the view from inside the confines of some foreign luxury car, what seemed like drug deals that had potential to turn violent at any moment, crime scenes you got the sense you probably shouldn’t be at… All these little snippets would flash through your mind. 

At first these visions didn’t faze you, and you’d wake up like you always did in the mornings. You chalked it up to an overly active imagination or eating too close to bedtime. You thought it was weird that you were seemingly having recurring dreams, and it frustrated you that you couldn’t pinpoint the source of them. You tried to let it go, thinking you were reading too much into it, but the dreams only got more vivid from there.

You soon became familiar with a cast of characters that would show up in these visions. You never saw exactly what they looked like, but you could tell their presences apart from one another by their mannerisms and voices – a strange sword-wielding eccentric who was all too eager for the chance to draw his blade, a duo that seemed to always at each other’s throats (probably brothers, you figured), their quiet and serious leader whose words sent a chill through your bones. These were undoubtedly dangerous men, but the strangest part was that in each of these dreams, you felt no fear. Like you belonged there. Like their presence didn’t faze you in the slightest. 

There was another, perhaps the most prominent, figure present in almost every one of your dreams as of late – a man with silver hair that fell straight at his shoulder, frequently dressed in red and gold silks. He was always there, and he always brought you a sense of calmness. His voice was buttery smooth and even playful at times, sending shivers down your spine.

Your visions of him were considerably more detailed than the rest, and frankly it alarmed you. As you “saw” him more and more regularly, the less convinced you were that these were just dreams. While the others came in flashes and vignettes, of him you could see whole scenarios play out.

_____

In the most recent instance you’d seen him, you were seated beside him in the passenger seat of his Rolls-Royce, pulling up to a shady-looking building that you were almost certain was condemned. He clicked off the engine. 

“Just a quick stop. You stay here,” he’d said with a kiss to the side of your head as he gathered his things – a black folio and a revolver – and headed into the towering building that loomed over you. You got the sense that he tried his best to keep you as far out of harm’s way as he could. But that didn’t mean your curiosity didn’t get the better of you. 

In all fairness, you did try to be patient, but you hadn’t expected this “quick stop” to take quite so long. And to be perfectly honest, you were more unnerved by sitting alone in the alley than you were by whatever job he had gone off to take care of. You quietly unlocked the door, looking vigilantly at your surroundings, peeled yourself off the leather seat, and exited, lightly shutting the door behind you.

You removed your heels before proceeding into the building. It was dark inside, not a single soul in sight as you entered the dusty foyer. If this building was used at all, surely it wasn’t for anything that was able to operate in daylight hours. Your feet padded on the cool black and white tile as you approached the grand staircase at the center of the room. Your fingertips grazed the knob of the post at the base of the railing, and you paused, taking in your surroundings. You imagined this was once a place where important people gathered, judging by the ornate architecture and elegant mural-clad walls. The moonlight streaming in from the windows above caught each dust particle floating like feathers in the stale air, assuring you no one had congregated in this place in a good long while.

Just to be sure, you double checked that you had your knife in its holster at your thigh, before tiptoeing your way up the rich mahogany stairway. You passed the second floor, just as dead as the last, and continued on to the third, from which you swore you could hear some sort of commotion. You headed in the direction of the noise, eventually finding what appeared to be the sole lit room in the building.

You peered in the doorway.

Before you was a room with walls covered in clear plastic that was completely empty, save for an old couch pressed against the wall, and a singular chair in the center of the tarp-covered floor. Facing away from the door was a man strapped to the chair, thrashing against his restraints and trying desperately to cry out despite the gag in his mouth. 

The man in red slowly walked circles around him, like a shark with its prey. The heels of his shoes clacked authoritatively with each steady stride as he read off a list of amounts of money, each considerably more than the last. 

“….and finally, an ¥80,000,000 charge. Do you have any idea the kind of debt you’ve racked up, Mr. Yamada?” he interrogated, his folio snapping shut in his left hand before he tucked it gracefully under his arm. 

Muffled cries were the only response.

You heard the trill of the metal chamber of his freshly-loaded revolver spinning, stopping with a click. 

“Or with whom you’ve accrued it?” 

The barrel was pressed firmly to the side of the restrained man’s head, and he sobbed louder. 

“Bonten intends to collect. One payment method or another.” He pulled the gag out of his victim’s mouth. “Now then…any last words?”

Whatever Mr. Yamada said was barely coherent, some mixture of blubbering and pleading for his life and just a little more time. 

The man in red acted quickly, kicking square against Mr. Yamada’s chest, knocking him onto his back on the floor, floundering as he begged. Cries of “no” and “please” spilled from his lips as the man you’d arrived with crouched over him, one ornate stiletto on either side of his victim’s torso, and pressed the gun between his eyes. He raked his fingers through the man’s hair, yanking back to meet his own gaze as he trailed the barrel down Mr. Yamada’s cheek, slipping it between his lips as he screamed. 

“Time to pay the piper,” the gunman said teasingly, before his expression darkened in an instant. “Pick a god and pray.”

Bang.

He sighed as he rose to his full stature, looking at the darkened red splotches on his clothing, resigned to the mess and wiping down his gun with a dry portion of his sleeve.

“I hate getting my hands dirty,” he complained.

The pink-haired man quietly seated on the sofa stood up. “You say that, but you sure looked like you were having fun with it. ‘Pick a god and pray’?” he asked mockingly.

“Oh, stuff it. I may get caught up in the moment but that doesn’t mean I enjoy the mess.”

The other man simply shrugged in response. “I’m just saying you’re not as big of a buzzkill as you let them think you are. You should take it as a compliment.” He strode closer, kicking at the soiled plastic tarp as he approached the deceased. “Even if you did have to go and be all uptight about putting all this crap down.” 

The silver-haired man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s because last time, somebody didn’t take precautions and it made cleanup a nightmare for everyone else,” he said pointedly. 

“I take back what I said before – you are a buzzkill.”

A hush fell over the room for a brief moment, and you leaned in further to try and get a better view. The men inside, however, reacted in an instant at the patter of your feet against the floor breaking the silence. Thinking they’d been followed at the sight of your shadow, the silver-haired man quickly pointed his firearm toward the doorway as his companion drew his katana from its sheath. 

“Who’s there?” he shouted, his voice more demanding than questioning, the echo hanging over you in the hall where you stood.

“It’s me!” you cried out quickly, before he had a chance to fire a warning shot in your direction.

“Princess?” his voice softened, sounding almost troubled. “What are you doing – Nevermind. Just…stay right there, okay? I don’t want you seeing this,” his voice called back to you. You thought it was sweet that he tried to preserve your innocence. It was like he didn’t know the way being near him while he worked thrilled you.

After some brief arguing with the other man over cleanup details, he emerged from the room, placing his palm on the small of your back and briskly escorting you out. 

“I thought I told you to stay out here,” he said, more concern in his voice than anger as you approached the car. 

“I tried, really! It was just…spooky all quiet,” you pouted, following him as he opened the trunk, going for the stash of sanitary wipes and a fresh suit from the cleaners. He looked down the alley toward the main road to be sure no one was coming before stripping and wiping himself down and changing into the clean clothing, shoving the sullied items into a black trash bag he tied off and stuck in the trunk to be disposed of later. 

As he pulled the lid down, you snaked your fingers up the pressed lapel, tracing the pinstripes up to his neck. “Besides,” you said, thumbing over the single speck of blood he’d missed, wiping it clean. “You’re sexy when you work.”

He caught your hand in his, holding it firmly against his chest. He looked calm, but you could feel his heart racing. Was it the adrenaline? Or was it just what you did to him?

The two of you stood there for a moment in silence before you piped up,”...Are you mad at me?”

The very thought was extinguished in an instant, his lips pressed firmly and tenderly against yours. They were soft and warm and full of love, leaving you breathless when he pulled away.

“How could I ever be mad?” 

And with that, he opened your door, ushering you into the vehicle, and climbing in the other side. If you hurried, you might still make your dinner reservations. 

As he put his hand on the gear shift, you playfully trailed your fingers up his wrist and the back of your hand. He smirked, slipping his hand atop yours, roughly gripping down, and pulling the gear shift into drive – and you were off. 

_____

Even now, it was like you could still feel his lingering touch. his fingers interlocked with yours. You watched your own fingers as you drummed on the counter, envisioning his warm palm laid over the back of your hand and his finger – long and elegant but still strong and firm – interlocked with yours. You groaned, burrowing your face into the crook of your elbow. You were really losing sleep, losing your mind over someone whose face you’d never even seen before. Someone who didn’t even exist. 

You couldn’t help it, though. Once your head hit the pillow and consciousness left you, all it took was for one scene to play out, and your body’s reaction to it would yank you back to this plane of existence. It was forceful, like part of you was clinging with all its might, desperate for just a moment longer in this other land. Like that part of your soul was ripped away from where it knew it belonged.

Your mind drifted to him once again, to the moment you’d known that you must have loved him. It was late. There you were, with him in his bed, in a room several stories above the tops of other apartment buildings in the area, the only light in the room being that which filtered in through the floor-length windows from the vivacious night life of the city below. It was a lively area, but nowhere that anyone would come looking for him. The sirens that wailed in the distance were on the trail of another. This was your own personal oasis, hidden in plain sight. 

It was all a blur, though. There could have been nothing surrounding you, honestly. There was him, and only him. 

The taste of his kiss was fresh on your lips as he gathered you in his arms. You laid on your sides, facing each other, chests flush against one another. He clutched you tightly, like part of him thought you would vanish if he let go, and you buried your face against his collarbone, one hand pressed against his heart. 

You recalled the feeling of hot tears dripping onto your neck as he kissed up your jaw to your cheek, lingering upon reaching their destination. But what echoed in your mind even now were the words he muttered – “I wouldn’t know what to do if I ever lost you too.”

Even thinking about it now made your heart leap in your chest. Something deep within you so vehemently rebuked the thought that he could merely be a figment of your overactive imagination that you were almost constantly plagued with these memories. You really were just losing your mind, you thought to yourself.

You sighed, sitting up as the bartender slid you your beverage. You thanked him, sure that the relieved look in your eyes more than conveyed your gratitude. He offered a shallow bow in response as if to say, “Just doing my job.”

Oh, that sweet, sweet first sip. It wasn’t very strong, but nonetheless provided the brief reprieve from the swirling storm of your own thoughts that you needed. You took a deep breath, stretching your neck to either side and taking a moment to let the alcohol do its thing and bring you the relaxation you craved. 

You swiveled around in your seat and crossed your legs, surveying the crowded reception hall as you nursed your drink. 

The groom was being swarmed by a herd of gentlemen who looked as if they had almost nothing in common – like he was their uniting factor. You could tell from the way they fussed over and clung to him that he was without a doubt an important figure in all their lives. It was sweet. You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth. 

Amidst the men was one in particular who looked to be having the time of his life. He couldn’t be much taller than 5’4”, and was currently dodging the grasp of a considerably taller man with his dark hair in a braided ponytail who was chasing him down. A handful of the others simply stood back and watched as the short one evaded capture. A tan man with glasses and slicked blonde hair pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, walking off somewhere to talk to one of the photographers. You kept your eyes on the chase, wondering just how long these two could keep at it.

That was when you heard it – that laugh. 

It came from somewhere across the room and made your ears burn. Your head jerked in the direction it came from, and there you saw him. 

He stood by the hors d’oeuvres fable, chatting with a hulking behemoth of a man wearing a paisley scarf and a wild grin. You could barely see him around the other man’s broad shoulders, but there he was. His dark hair was swept to the side, white streaks peppered in, adding to the shape and volume. His eyes twinkled with mirth and mischief as he spoke to who you assumed was his long-time friend. 

You studied him as he raised his beverage to his lips, fixating on the delicate way he wrapped his fingers around the glass. Those fingers. You knew those fingers.

You shook your head to yourself. What the hell are you thinking, projecting your imaginary boyfriend onto a stranger? Get a grip, you chided yourself. But you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. The way he carried himself, the whimsical glint in his eyes…this wasn’t anybody you’d ever seen before, but still, your soul was screaming. The tension within you felt like pulling magnets apart.

That was when he glanced your way, and your heart just about leapt out of your chest. It was only for a split second, but it felt like an eternity. His eyes absolutely and without a doubt landed on yours. 

“That’s him. That’s absolutely him,” said the burning sensation in your chest.

You were relieved the instant his glance passed over you, but it didn’t last long. You were about to get up and walk out before you made a complete idiot of yourself – Chiyo would understand if you explained to her later. You needed to not be here. But before you could make a single move, he did a double take, looking puzzled for a moment, as if he thought he’d spotted someone he knew.

His eyes widened when you made eye contact that second time. 

Quickly, he knocked back the rest of his drink, handing the empty glass to his friend and briskly walking in your direction. 

No, this is insane, you told yourself. I have to get out of here. You fumble in your purse, rummaging for your keys as you stand up.

But the instant you tried to take a step, his hand was on your bicep. 

“Excuse me,” he called, almost panicked.

You turned to him, and time stilled. As his face came into full view, you knew.

It was him.

“I swear this isn’t a pickup line, but do we know each other?”

The part of you that wanted to run and hide was at war with the part that wanted to throw yourself at him and say you’ve been searching for him, and the result was you simply standing there, floundering for words as your wide eyes met his. 

This couldn’t really be happening.

“Hajime?”

The name spilled from your lips before you realized it, like it had been on the tip of your tongue all this time. The name you’d never heard, but somehow you knew. It was him.

His breath hitched, the shock continuing to spread on his face. “You do know me, don’t we? And I know you…but I’ve never seen you before? This is insane, right? But you’ve been seeing it too, haven’t you? The visions?”

It was happening. 

“How did you –” you stammered.

“I don’t know, but it’s you, right? You’re the one who’s been in all those weird dreams with Mikey and the Haitanis and everyone in that organization? I mean, not that I knew what you looked like before or anything, but when I looked over here something just pulled me,” he rambled, sounding as insane as you felt. 

He takes both your hands in his and you respond with a small nod.

“I-I thought I was crazy,” you managed to stutter, squeezing his hands as if you still don’t believe he was right there in front of you. You wanted to cry, to throw yourself into his arms, but refrained, not wanting to cause a scene. 

“I thought I was crazy,” he repeated back.. “And they always feel so real, too. Shit…” He brought his hand to his forehead in disbelief. 

The two of you paused, letting everything sink in. You’d both been having these strange visions set in some other lifetime, each featuring one another. But what did it even mean?

The look on your face must have said it all. 

“...Let’s go talk somewhere a little more private,” he suggested. 

You nodded, and he laced his fingers in yours, leading you out to the gardens on the church’s second floor courtyard. 

Hajime led you to the bench, dusting it off with his handkerchief and offering you his hand as you sat down. You took it, not wanting to pass up another opportunity to check whether or not he was real. So far, all signs still pointed to yes.

He sat down beside you, still holding your hand, but leaning back, looking up at the sky, covered in sherbet-colored clouds and obscured by the foliage above. He gave your hand a squeeze.

You sat there in silence, examining him. It was evident on his face that he was processing everything. He would look at you, then back up, then glance back at you again, and look up again. His chest was heaving, and you couldn’t explain what possessed you to do this, but you let your free hand wander, trailing up his torso before landing above his heart. The same flutter, the same rhythm from your dreams. It really was him. 

As soon as you flinched to withdraw your hand, he caught it in his, holding you there, now looking directly into your eyes.

“Do you think love can transcend lifetimes?” he asks, catching you by surprise. 

“I…suppose I hadn’t really thought about it until recently…” you muttered, trailing off.

“...Yeah, me neither.” 

A beat.

“...And we’re sure that we’ve been seeing the same things?” you piped up.

He sat upright and turned to face you properly. 

“Did you see the tattoos?” he asked, motioning to where his had been on the side of his head.

You nodded.

“And the others had them too, right?” 

“Yeah, there were a couple with them like, on their throats? I think?” you replied.

He nodded. “Yeah! I think they had their hair the same as they do now, actually. And Mikey had his on the back of his neck?”

You nodded again. “You keep saying those names like I know them,” you said.

He tilted his head. “But you know mine –”

“I didn’t until a minute ago,” you said, cutting him off. “I don’t…I don’t even know how I knew. As soon as I saw you, it kind of just…came out of my mouth?” You shook your head, looking at him to see if any of this sounded less sane to him.

“Seriously?” he smiled, leaning back again. Dropping your hands, he brought both of his to his face, rubbing at his eyes and letting out a sigh. He leaned back again, letting his head drop as he laughed. 

He looked at you again, left forearm pressed against his head as he reached to take both your hands in his right. 

“Well, I’m convinced. Confused as hell, but convinced.”

“I think I’m in the same boat,” you said. “But wait, how come you know who the others are? I never saw anybody very clearly.”

“Really? …Well, it could also have to do with the fact that I’ve known those guys most of my life. You probably just met them tonight, too.”

“‘Met them tonight’?” you asked. “What do you mean I met them tonight?”

He sat up again, his salt and pepper hair bouncing as he looked toward you. “They’re all in there,” he said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the reception hall.

“What? Really?” You sprang to your feet, trying to look into the window meters away. 

He stood up, resting a hand on your shoulder. “Wanna meet them?” he suggested, ushering you back that direction. 

“What? N-no, I couldn’t, I-I-,” you protested, digging in your heels.

“Fine, fine, you don’t have to go meet anybody,” he chuckled. Your shyness was endearing. “At least let me point them out to you, yeah?”

Cautiously, you followed along as he walked you to the window. 

He was right. The pair that you’d assumed were twins were Ran and Rindou Haitana, who owned a club in Roppongi, the man with the katana was Haruchiyo Akashi, who was at the wedding with his sister with whom he shared a Youtube channel, and that silent, mysterious leader was the short guy who was being chased around earlier. Hajime pointed out the others, and briefly told you about their collective history with the Tokyo Manji Gang in high school, and about the groom, Takemichi, who, alongside Mikey, had brought together so many people from different walks of life and made everyone feel like they had a true home and family to call their own. 

The way he smiled looking in at them made your heart melt. He wasn’t the same person he had been in your dreams, but he was still someone whose soul was etched into yours, and someone you could see yourself loving in this lifetime as well.

He turned to you, raising your hand to his lips. “And you already know me, but allow me to introduce myself formally. Hajime Kokonoi, co-president of TK&KO. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” His lips barely brushed against your knuckles, and you felt your face flush. 

The two of you stayed out there as the sun went down, spending heaven knows how long just talking and getting to know about each other – what types of things you’d seen in your dreams, what you liked and disliked, what your hopes for the future were. It was dark before either of you realized, and things were beginning to wind down inside. 

“...Guess we should probably go back in, huh?” you asked, shivering as the evening chill set in. 

Upon noticing, Hajime shucked his jacket, draping it over your shoulders.

“Aw, but we’re having so much fun out here,” he pouted, that mischivous look in his eyes once again. From where you were, you could still hear the DJ spinning tracks – this one was particularly slow. He bowed, extending his hand to you. The instant you took it, he pulled you in close, his left hand pressed flat against the middle of your back. 

You were interrupted, however, by a golden-haired man in a yellow suit.

“Koko, are you –? Oh,” he said, surprised to be catching the two of you in this position.

Hajime sighed, releasing you from his hold.

“One more person for you to meet,” he said, gesturing toward the intruder. “This is Inupi, we’ve known each other since we were children.” 

Inupi gave you a small wave and a nod before turning his attention back to Koko. “Mikey wants us to take a group photo with Takemicchi and sent me to find you.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

The look on Inupi’s face said, “You’d better be.” But when Hajime waved him off, he went back inside regardless. 

“Well, so much for our evening,”  he said. 

“It is getting pretty late. What time is it?”

He shrugged. “Dunno. You have my phone,” he nodded, gesturing at the jacket on your shoulders. 

“Oh, here, let me –” you started to shrug it off your shoulders, and he stopped you. 

“Ah, ah, I got it,” he said, reaching into the pocket on the side, taking a moment to feel around for his phone. “Got it. Oh, it’s only 10 o’clock,” he said, as if that wasn’t already most of the night.

He walked you back inside, and you saw Chiyo and one of her other friends having their last round at the bar. She noticed you and waved you over. You waved back and held up a finger, telling her you’d be just a minute. 

You and Hajime bade each other adieu, and as he walked over to his group, you realized you still had his coat. 

“Oh! Hajime, wait, your jacket!” you called after him.

He turned around and continued walking backwards. “Keep it safe for me until next time! Check the pocket,” he said, playfully sticking his tongue out at you. 

As you walked toward the bar, you stuck your hand into the pocket he’d fished his phone out of, finding nothing but a business card. His business card. You pulled it out and looked at it. 

“There you are! I was looking for you all night!” Chiyo said, bubbly and drunkenly. “Who’s that guy?” 

“Oh, y’know, a guy…” you said, only half paying attention as you examined the card. You flipped it over to reveal what you could only assume was Hajime’s cell number, and a message –

“Not losing you again. See you in my dreams.”

You decided to text him when you got home.

[altruistic-meme]

oh you KNOW i gotta ask 10

and also 11 cause maybe talking about it would help

you are one cruel, cruel fiend, milo. why would you do this to me.

10. 🤡How many Wips are you actively working on?

alexa play "oh my dear lord" by the unlikely candidates

okay. okay. so in the interest of trying to limit what we consider ACTIVELY working on, i'm going to exclude fics that i'm not really sure if i'll ever finish and fics that i haven't actually STARTED writing, but i'm still going to include fics i know i'm going to return to even if i haven't touched them in a while. so let's check the WIP list...

3 for All for the Game (why is there) joy in this poison, Figurative Ghosts, go low

2 for Young Royals Dare(d) To Do It, Not Supposed to Know*

1 for Captive Prince laurent stabs damen

9 for Bungo Stray Dogs blackhole time fuckery, will you be mine? (no sir), The Port Mafia Boss's Most Loyal Dog, me-ow, dazai's job, abo au, outsider POV of corruption, who tf is slug????, not really a college au,

so that is... 15 TOTAL, most of which are currently bsd fics bc i have been bouncing between all of the WIPs there with incredible frequency cus my brain refuses to just STAY PUT ON ONE.

*techinically i haven't actually written anything for NSTK, but because it is one half of the Parallels AU and i have written for Dare(d), which is its partner fic, i'm still counting that as having worked on it. especially since they're 2 POVs of the same story, which means some of the events in Dare(d) will be shown in NSTK as well, so the same dialogue will be used in both for scenes they share.

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

oh this is about to be so long im so sorry

i think there's something im struggling with with all of my bsd WIPs right now, which is probably part of why there are just so many that i'm actively working on bc if i get stuck on one i can just move to something else for a while ;;;;

largely, i feel like im struggling a lot with figuring out Dazai and Chuuya's characters which obviously affects all of the WIPs since they're all skk-centric!! but they're both such complex characters with a super complex relationship with each other and i really love that about them and i want to be able to get that across, even in the shorter fics!! (this was also a struggle with the torturing kunikida fic, though since it was from Kunikida's POV it was a little easier bc i could show the contrast to what he expected of skk vs. what he saw that day to help get that across)

but just. characterization is ALWAYS an issue for me, especially when i first start writing characters. and i know that it'll be fine bc it always is, i think my anxiety about it causes me to put in the effort to really make the characters work and people usually really seem to enjoy them?? it is one of the things about my writing that people mention most often (and i will never tire of that, see: lots of anxiety about it) so i know i should calm down about it but HHHHHH

on the brightside(?) i do have a WIP that's still very much in the planning stages that will allow me to look at and play with a lot of the more toxic/codependent/generally unhealthy aspects of the two of them + their relationship while also giving me some more wiggle room in their characterization, which i think will be a fun way to help curb some of that anxiety when i actually start writing it.

and outside of that, looking at a specific WIP for an issue im facing currently: Loyal Dog is giving me SO MUCH TROUBLE bc i know what needs to happen and i know overall how the story is going to go and what the main points in it are. but actually figuring out how to write what i need to get down is. a struggle.

like it's just. i know the main plot and the main points and some of what needs to be done to get there. but the finer details are tripping me up. this time i think the outsider POV is working against me here, but also having it from an outsider POV is necessary to the story as i want it told!! idk. it's a LOT stupid little details that i need to plan and decide on while trying to make it plausible that's stressing me out more and hhhhhhhhhh

[ writer WIP asks to help me procrastinate writing ]