#can u tell the second one is when i finished reading predator

[flatfoot-horse]

[beamystar]

Uh...heya! May I mayyybe request a legoshi x female reader? You can choose which animal she’ll be could it be lots of fluff? Like maybe helps the reader out? 👉🏻👈🏻 Thank you in advance!!

A/N: thank you! Sorry it took me so long to start requests. I’ve got a few in my inbox and should be finishing them all soon- thank u all for giving me a way to start off the blog! I’ve made the reader a predator in this one, but it’s not specified what sort of animal you are.

Low Motivation - Legosi/You

School could be a wild card at times. It was either way too underwhelming, or it’d flip in a second and become way too overwhelming. To juggle your social life and studies along with whatever hurdles and drama life decides to throw your way- it’s a bit difficult!

Not to mention the addition of clubs. You had decided to take part in the News Club at the beginning of the new school year thinking it would be fun- but it turned out to just be a lot more work. Constantly interviewing students and trying to think of stories- editing articles and viewing potential pictures brought in by the photography club to put in the weekly school paper.

Usually you didn’t really mind- while the News Club could be a bit tedious and hard, you liked your club members and you liked writing. But finding motivation to work lately was... difficult. What with the numerous murders lately and the fact that people have been eyeing you and treating you differently lately due to the fact you were a predator- could anyone really blame you for being low on inspiration?

Regardless, you sat outside on one of the school’s numerous benches as you tried to think of something to do for your club. You have a hot drink sitting on one side of you in a paper cup, on the other side is a stack of papers of printed articles you found online and outside the school. On your lap sits a pad of paper and pen- no words are written down yet.

How long have you been sitting here? Looking down at your phone, you realize it’s only been about ten minutes.

It’s felt like an hour.

“Aeugh!” You throw your head back in defeat as you groan, your hands covering your eyes and digging into your forehead. “I won’t get anything done at this rate...”

And then, as your eyes are covered, you hear a voice from above you. “What are you working on?”

Slightly surprised by the fact someone was around and you hadn’t heard, you jolt in your seat as you remove your hands and look behind you.

It’s a wolf- but not just any wolf. If your memory serves you right, the wolf was named Legosi... you think he’s in the drama club.

“O-oh, did I surprise you?” He notices your surprise and he immediately starts to hunch, his shoulders dropping as he waves his hands as an apology. “I’m sorry, I do that a lot...”

“Oh, you’re fine! I was just too caught up to notice you, I guess,” you disregard his apology easily since it wasn’t really needed. “I’m just trying to think of stories for the school paper... it’s kind of difficult.”

This seems to catch Legosi’s attention as his ears perk up just a bit, his eyes falling to your numerous papers stacked by your side. “The paper, huh?”

That’s all he has to say. A wolf of few words, then- but that’s okay. You hum at him with a nod. “With everything that’s been going on, animals are actually reading it for once. The news and stories we put into it are suddenly so much more important, since eyes are on us.” You frown and turn your back to him- the wolf was still standing behind you and you were getting a little tired of twisting to face him. “Want to move this way?” You ask him and you can hear him stumble a bit before he walks to the area beside you.

He hovers very awkwardly above you, standing instead of taking the seat next to you that you cleared. When you look back up at him you can see his eyes flitting around. His whole body suggested he was widely uncomfortable right now.

“Hey- if you wanna leave, that’s fine,” you laugh gently through your nose. “You don’t gotta keep talking to me if you don’t want to.”

“Well-“ he says quickly, before backpedaling a bit. “It just looked like you were really, uh... stumped, so I don’t have anything to do anyway, so...”

He wants to help if he can. That’s the message you’re deciphering anyway, but you can’t be certain since he refuses to finish his sentences. You pick up your drink and pat the area left behind. “You can sit if you wanna stay.”

Silently, he scoots to the bench and sits down. His shoulders are still hunched and he’s gripping his hands tightly between his legs- the wolf is as stiff as a board.

“Well... if you wanna help and give ideas, that would be great. I guess in the article I’m trying to find some more lighthearted things to write about.” You grab the papers beside you and hand them to Legosi, explaining yourself as he carefully looks through them. “There hasn’t been any clues or updates on the murders recently, and animals are really tense. If I can, I’d like to write an article about something that will get their minds off it a bit. But I’m not really sure where to start.”

“There’s a lot of stuff here,” Legosi mutters as he reads. “You’ve thought of a lot... it’s impressive.”

You smile genuinely at his comment, which makes him jolt a bit in his seat. You try not to take that part to heart as you continue to smile at him. “Thanks! I still don’t have anything, though.”

“Well, maybe...” The wolf pauses for a second, looking like he’s thinking as he hands the papers back to you. “I don’t know if it’s any good, but apparently people are looking forward to the next play. If you think it’s good, I could let you interview some of the actors about the upcoming show. Maybe the students would like that?” He sounds doubtful of your idea, but you light up at his suggestion.

“You really think you could do that for me?” You ask him brightly. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience anybody if it’s too much trouble!”

Legosi seems surprised by your enthusiasm as he flusters before looking away, one of his big hands going up and scratching the back of his head nervously. “No, I don’t think it would. It would help us out by creating excitement for the play, and that would be a good article for you, probably... and it’s not about anyone dying, either.”

You nod along with Legosi as he talks, smiling again at him as you start writing on your pad. “That’s a great idea, Legosi! It would really help me out.” You finish writing and tear off the paper, handing the slip to him. He takes it slowly with two gentle fingers. “That’s my contact information. If you could tell me whenever your club is ready for a short questionnaire, that would be really great!”

He continues to look at the paper with wide eyes before they shoot to you and then back at the paper. “R-right. It’s... no problem.”

“Hmm, but still. Thanks for going out of your way to talk to me. You’re really kind, you know.”

The praise seems to make him even worse as he sags forward, not looking at you at all as his ears twitch. “I don’t know about all that...”

“Regardless of what you think about it, I still think you’re pretty nice.” You tell him simply and lean against the back of the bench. Watching Legosi and all of his mannerisms was certainly interesting, to put it lightly. He didn’t act at all like a typical wolf.

But maybe you should put him out of his misery and leave him alone now.

Carefully stacking all your papers and tucking them under your arm, you grab your drink and stand up. Legosi watches you silently, still sulking on his side of the bench. You give him another smile as a way to relieve him- but it doesn’t really work. “I’ll be heading out now and going back to my dorm. Thanks again for the help, Legosi. Give me a call whenever, okay?”

He stutters a lot so you leave him be and turn on your heel, walking off so that he didn’t have to try so hard to talk to you. Maybe if he gives you a call, he’ll get a bit more used to it. You’d certainly like it if that’s what happened.

[whumpzone]

Tomas and Rowe - Part 11

this chapter was tough, and I might never be totally happy with it, but I hope you all still enjoy it! I’m doing my best to keep to the fortnightly updates <3

Masterpost

taglist: @sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @misspelledwitch @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk @ghostcomit @cupcakes-and-pain @frankieswhump @ihaventwritteninsolong @mybrokenlittletoy @kiretto-laorentze @morelikepainsley @lave-e @tears-and-lilies @whump-me-all-night-long @newbornwhumperfly (just ask if you want to be added! thank you all!)

CW: pet whumpee, dehumanisation, hospitals

-

"Hey," came a voice. When Rowe didn’t immediately wake up, a slap landed across his face. It ground the muzzle deeper into his flesh and forced him awake, wide-eyed and cowering. He was lucky to be spoken to first, of course. Usually he’d be hit without any warning. "Wake up Mutt. You’re finished here."

. . .

"Why couldn’t he come meet me in the waiting room?" Tomas asked the orderly.

"The exit is just this way. We find that most Pet owners like to be discrete in this kind of situation."

The ‘discrete’ room was divided into small curtained cubicles. The orderly left without a word after pointing Tomas towards Rowe, and Tomas was grateful for that at least. Rowe looked horrific. His wrists were strapped into a wheelchair- like he had any intention of running away, given the splint fixed around his left leg. His head flopped to one side, eyes closed, and a thick muzzle was clamped over poor Rowe’s face. His Rowe, that someone had bound and muzzled and hurt. The surge of protectiveness scared Tomas. It felt too close to ownership.

He went to take a closer look at Rowe’s legs, when a hand appeared in his line of sight. Tomas shook it without thinking.

"Hello, you must be the owner. Mr… Grzegorzewski? I’m Dr Scarlett Easton, and this is Dr Jacob Clerval."

"Ah, pleased to meet you both," Tomas said weakly. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Rowe’s head twitch. He’s awake, then. "He was bad enough to need two doctors, then?"

Rowe flinched, ever so slightly, at the word bad.

"He? Aw, that’s quite cute," smiled Dr Easton. Tomas wished everyone would stop commenting on that. "Dr Clerval here is quite new, so he’s been observing. We thought he might be needed, but only one leg was broken, as it happens. We’ve put it in a splint. The other one just needed stitches."

"Right, that’s good then. And the restraints, I… was he being troublesome?"

Tomas chanced a glance in Rowe’s direction. His eyes were full and apologetic, and Tomas wanted to reassure him that everything was okay, but he couldn’t. Not yet.

"Spoke out of turn."

"Mm. But we could get the arms down without a problem. So there’s hope still," the young doctor said with a smile. Tomas realised a few seconds too late that he was making a joke. It felt too weird to speak about Rowe like he wasn’t even in the room. Discussing him without letting him have a say in the matter. Rowe, of course, looked completely used to it. He sat perfectly still, and it only angered Tomas more. It was normal! Rowe was on his best behaviour despite being muzzled like a bad dog because he’d be hurt if he wasn’t, and that was just normal and expected and understood. It made Tomas’s blood boil. He needed to get Rowe home.

. . .

Rowe’s heart jumped when he heard Master’s voice. The painful fog lifted. Master Master Master. He was here. He didn’t abandon Rowe. He was here and that was worth any punishment he’d give out when Rowe got home. He didn’t remember ever being so happy to see his old master, but he didn’t dwell on that. Master, they fixed my legs. Please take me back home. You said I can have wants. I want to go back home and serve you and let you do whatever you want to me.

The two doctors were talking about Rowe, and Master glanced over a few times, but not to look at Rowe’s legs. He was looking into Rowe’s eyes, staring at him from under his blond curls and Rowe couldn’t understand because that wasn’t where he’d been hurt. He wanted to survey the work the doctors had done, right?

"Okay, thank you," said Master, and his voice was so familiar, so calm and clear and measured, and even through his shame Rowe’s spirits lifted. "I don’t think this wheelchair will be necessary from now on, thanks."

. . .

"That’s handy, because we need it back anyway. And the muzzle."

Tomas tried to act like someone who didn’t care because he had one at home anyway. Rowe kept his eyes down as his mouth was released and again Tomas just wanted to scream at them, because for goodness sake he’s bleeding, and it was fastened over a barely-healed broken nose, and you’re all acting like it doesn’t fucking matter.

"Have you brought a cage for it?"

"If you haven’t brought a cage then he will need carrying, sir."

"That’s- I can get him home fine, thanks."

"Whatever," Tomas muttered, scooping Rowe into his arms without a second thought. He was still light even with the addition of the splint. Rowe didn’t react except to bury his face into Tomas’s neck as he turned on his heel and left.

"Hey, Rowe," he said gently as soon as they were outside. "How do you feel, pal?"

"M-Master," he said weakly.

"I’m here, I promise. Does it hurt?"

"It d-doesn’t matter…"

No Master for once. That was probably not a good sign, right now. "Can you tell me anyway?" Tomas was careful to avoid sounding like Rowe was being rude, or disobedient, or forcing him to tell him out of fear.

"U-uh, it hurts on m-my legs, M-Master. And m-my face."

"From the muzzle, right? Little bastards. I never said they could do that to you."

"I s-spoke without permission, Master."

"Well, I like it when you speak. I like hearing what you have to say." He kept his tone matter-of-fact. Rowe shuddered against his chest, and it could have been a laugh. Yes, I suppose that isn’t said to Pets very often. "And your poor legs. Well, we’re going to try this out, but let me know if it doesn’t work, okay?"

Tomas gently hoisted Rowe onto his back, climbing onto his bicycle very carefully. Rowe clung on; his frail arms hooked over Tomas’s shoulders and the brittle scabs forming over Rowe’s newest cuts tickled his jaw. This is fucking stupid.

"I’ll go slowly," Tomas promised, pushing the bike into motion and vowing never to go back to that wretched place.

. . .

Rowe savoured the last few moments, tucked protectively against his owner’s chest, before they got home and his punishment started. He had wasted Master’s time, he had spoken without permission, he had got blood everywhere upstairs, he was ugly, he was useless, and he was due a punishment. He was due more pain until he was a pitiful, twitching wreck, sobbing that he’d never trouble Master like that again. This was all he could think as he was carried into the house and- not dropped on the floor, as he’d expected, but placed onto the sofa. But- but- Pets couldn’t-

"You’re allowed on the sofa," Master Tomas said, like he’d read Rowe’s mind. "You’re always allowed. But right now, I don’t want any argument, okay?"

Rowe nodded nervously, and didn’t resist as Master unclipped the collar from around his neck. It was insolent and rude and selfish, but Rowe had got used to life without one. He tried to sit up and be pretty, but he was still faint and clumsy with pain.

"H-hurts, Master. M-my legs hurt."

"Rowe?" Master asked, and Rowe’s heart sank because of course, Master would notice immediately. Pets were too stupid to hide things from their Master. The truth always came out, eventually. "You doing okay?"

A pause. "They did… you got painkillers right, Rowe? They gave you anaesthetic?"

Rowe shook his head and immediately Master’s eyes darkened with rage. Wrong answer.

"What the fuck?" Master cried. Rowe flinched. He knew what that tone predated. "No, I’m not- I’m not angry with you. I’ll get you some painkillers."

"P-please, it’s n-not wasted on Pets," Rowe protested weakly, even though he knew Pets never argued with their Master. What was he thinking? Besides, he still opened his mouth obediently when Master approached him with two small pills and some water.

"Okay," he exhaled. Master crouched before him and took Rowe by the hand, ever so gently. Rowe still felt ice run through him at the contact, expecting him to clamp and wrench and pull, but he didn’t.

. . .

I have to do it, thought Tomas as he looked at Rowe. …but I don’t have to do it tonight.

. . .

"Rowe," Master began as he often did, and Rowe liked being reminded that he was important enough to be named. It made him feel wanted.

(made him feel like a person) (no it didn’t)

Master was looking at him so warmly that it made Rowe just want to shy away because he hadn’t earned this kindness. Why was Master even here? What did he want? Why was he here if not to get something from Rowe- to punish him for causing such a fuss?

"When people get hurt, it’s important to be extra nice to them. This doesn’t mean that you can only have nice things if you take pain first, okay?"

"O-okay, Master." But what does that matter?

"I want to do whatever you want tonight. Anything at all. I know having wants is still new, so this is a good chance to try them out." Master ran his thumb over Rowe’s hand. His fingers weren’t rough like old master’s were. They were soft. "Wanting something won’t make me angry. I won’t get angry, I won’t laugh at you, I won’t ignore you."

"I can want s-something?" Rowe timidly confirmed. "I’m not being punished?"

The worst case scenario flitted before his eyes, as it always did- Master’s grip turns painful and he smacks beats hits kicks whips burns hates me and it was all a cruel joke- but it didn’t linger, it didn’t make him seize up. It-

It passed. And all that happened was Master nodded.

"I want-" Rowe’s breath hitched. He knew what he wanted. He couldn’t believe he was even capable of wanting. And now that it wasn’t a dream, or a private thought, the desperation came crashing into him almost too fast to keep up with. It tore and wrenched and made him ache. "Please- please p-pet me, Master, please hold me and ruffle m-m-my hair. I want to b-be held so badly. Please."

. . .

Oh, Rowe, Tomas thought, feeling his heart break once again. I’ve really been cruel to you, haven’t I?

"Of course, pal, of course," he said gently, sitting down next to Rowe and putting an arm around him. "Why don’t you lean on me and get comfortable?"

It felt wrong, Tomas couldn’t deny that, it felt so wrong to let this small, traumatised human rest his head on Tomas’s chest and be pet like a- well, like a Pet. But he also couldn’t deny the way Rowe softened against him. Sure, Rowe went limp a lot, his training making him unresisting and pliable, but this was different. Tomas worked the fingers of his free hand into Rowe’s hair and stroked, all the way down to the top of his spine and back to his crown. Rowe let out a shuddering breath, like all the defences he’d had to keep raised since Tomas got him were being lowered, just for tonight.

The words kept dying on his lips, but Tomas promised himself that if Rowe didn’t respond then he wouldn’t say them again. "You’re- you’re a good boy, Rowe."

Another shudder, and a sniff. Rowe’s face pressed harder into Tomas.  

"Such a good boy. You were so brave today."

And then- Rowe’s shoulders trembled, in the way Tomas had quickly learnt they only did when Rowe was crying silently.

"Th-thank you," Rowe whispered between sobs. "Thank y-you so much, Master."

"I mean it," he soothed. "You are so good, Rowe. I’m happy I have you as a Pet."

It was a confession to himself as much as it was a comfort for Rowe. The words sank in, for both of them. Rowe’s crying didn’t abate, and Tomas felt a few tears of his own drip down his face. They landed perfectly on the hand in Rowe’s hair. That’s for the best. Proper Masters don’t cry over their Pets.

Tomas couldn’t help it. All his anger at the hospital had settled into sadness. He wasn’t being selfish. Rowe so desperately needed to feel safe and comforted, even if by morning he would be back to his usual fearful servitude. But Tomas also wanted to drop the pretence, just for a night, and let himself be kind and gentle without confusing his poor precious Pet.

He continued stroking his hair until Rowe fell asleep, his head rising and falling in unison with Tomas’s slow breaths.

(ending loosely inspired by this post)

[hopeless-deerie-fanfics]

MC who’s panic response when in danger is to say kinky shit (eg: harder) and the brother’s reactions

Masterlist and requests info as well as the fandoms I write for is the pinned post on my page, so go check it out if you like this! Had some fun with the prompt because hey why not XP

WARNINGS: NSFW, SWEARING, KINKS, MINOR SPOILERS PRE EP.10, MAJOR SPOILERS for pre ep.20 for Belphie’s one, so avoid that one if you arent there yet. Lemme kno what you think and enjoy!

LUCIFER

-          This poor man

-          He thought he could handle the human exchange student

-          Honestly so far things have been going quite well

-          And then he gets angry and you step in between to stop him from hurting his brothers

-          Part of him is impressed you even have the guts

-          But he is Very Angry and you should move if you don’t want to get hurt

-          He takes a step closer and grasps your neck, about to make a warning threat

-          When suddenly you just scream at the top of your lungs, fear wide in your eyes

-          “HARDER DADDY”

-          *Lucifer.EXE has stopped working*

-          You broke the poor man

-          Gobsmacked is the only word to describe the expression on his face

-          He’s so shocked that his anger dissipates and he turns back into his regular form

-          At which point you collapse to your knees heavy breathing

-          “fuck, fuck, um sorry, uh when I panic I just blurt out anything to try and throw people off and uh, well normally kinky stuff seems to work”

-          Lucifer just blinks

-          Then smirks

-          “Come to my room later tonight, a punishment is in order for distracting me from disciplining my idiot brother”

-          Your heart is pounding a mile a minute, face flushed, and from the look on Lucifer’s face he knows it

-          Yeah good luck looking him in the eye for a while without immediately remembering and getting super flustered

-          You did this to yourself hun

-          When you do go to see him that night you expect something hot, but he just sits you down for a two hour long lecture on ‘appropriate use of language’

-          Of course once he has drained all the excitement from you, just as he dismisses you, he runs a gloved finger across your jaw, tilting your face up to his, standing a little too close for comfort

-          “What darling, were you expecting something else when you came here?”

-          He’s smirking, and you’re melting under his gaze

-          He knows what he’s doing and is relishing in your squirms

-          Sadistic bastard

-          (but you love it)

MAMMON (read lucifer’s first)

-          By this point mammon has already sprinted off, half of him thanking his luck at getting away scot free, the other half completely bamboozled (and kinda turned on) at what you said to get Lucifer to stop

-          Of course the moment he sees you again he’ll burst out laughing

-          Now that his life isn’t in immediate danger he can process the humour and oh man

-          You really said THAT

-          To LUCIFER

-          And LIVED

-          Maybe he should try it next time he’s about to get strung up by his ankles

-          Nah it wouldn’t be worth the punishment plus his brothers would make sure he would never live it down

-          Would be hilarious though

-          But seriously, he’s pissing himself laughing

-          Internally though, he wants you to say that again, this time to him

-          And if you do?

-          Man oh man, he will melt into a pile of blushing spluttering mess

-          “H-Hey ya, ya can’t just go around sayin’ that stuff!”

-          *pause*

-          (under breath) “say it again, but louder”

-          “What was that mammon?”

-          “I-I said I GOTTA TAKE A SHOWER” *slams door as he runs away*

-          It won’t be long till he’s back beside you, honestly just use this method any time you want a 5 minute break

LEVIATHAN

-          Oh he was PISSED

-          You beat him at the *clearly RIGGED* quiz and he wasn’t having any of it

-          How could some measly normie possibly begin to understand the complexities of ‘The Tale Of The Seven Lords’ when you had only watched it for the first time last week and hadn’t even read the hundreds of manga that feed into the backstory!? What about the Extended Cut!? The Holiday Special!? The Japan Only Release of the secret episode where Henry gets possessed by an ancient cheese spirit and trapped in the fridge realm and the Lord of Corruption has to go and rescue him in a daring feat only ever seen by 17 pairs of eyes in stop-motion clay!?

-          Rage coursed through him, and now in his demon form he stepped closer, ready to strike

-          At least that was until…

-          *anime girl voice*

-          “CHOKE ME WITH YOUR TAIL ONII-CHAN”

-          …

-          Cue silence

-          You could hear a pin drop

-          Levi is BEET RED

-          Drops out of demon form and stares open mouthed, wide eyed at you

-          Asmo’s the first one to let out a snicker

-          Then Satan

-          Then Mammon

-          Levi’s panic response is ‘Retreat to the bathtub-bed’ so that’s what he does

-          Because Hoooooo he’s suddenly got a bulge in his pants and he *DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT*

-          HOW did this stupid normie human NAIL Ruri-Chan’s voice from that one tentacle hentai he watched, had they seen it!?!? Were they secretly an Otaku like him!? Were they real life Ruri-Chan dressed up in a human costume!?!?

-          And how did they know one of his kinks-

-          HOW IS HE SUPPOSED TO PROCESS THIS INFORMATION!?!?

-          THAT IS NOT NORMIE BEHAVIOUR!!

-          He will avoid you till the end of time until you go to him and explain and apologise

-          But he will never see you in the same way again

-          And if you two end up getting physical at any point in the future he will use this to your advantage

-          Knowing what you like makes him feel more comfortable

-          Poor baby needs reassurance though

-          And you bet he’ll blush the whole time

SATAN (read Levi’s first)

-          He was actually snickering at Lucifer’s expression when you said …*that*… to Levi, because he has never seen the eldest look so shocked and appalled

-          Do it again human, keep going, drive Lucifer insane and let him watch

-          He was shocked initially of course, but quickly morphed it into pleasant surprise

-          And curiosity, if there’s one thing this man seeks out it’s knowledge

-          And in this case, knowledge of just how many things he can get you to say in Lucifer’s presence to infuriate and/or horrify him

-          He isn’t all that phased by what you said

-          But he will tease you about it

-          Only when Lucifer is around

-          He likes watching the irritation in his eyes as you stutter over your words

-          Or better yet when he Kabedons you to the wall and you yelp out an incoherently horny mish mash of words

-          That is until one day he does this and your words ignite something in him other than his usual supressed anger boiling deep beneath the surface

-          “M-MASTER MAKE ME BEG”

-          Well, if you didn’t know what he was into... you do now

-          His pupils immediately widen and there’s no missing it

-          Something about the way he moves closer to you screams predator cornering prey

-          He breathes and whispers softly against your neck

-          “Say that again”

-          You’re shell shocked

-          “u-um.. m-master-“

-          He nips at your earlobe he doesn’t care who’s watching

-          Of course Mammon walks in and screams as he throws himself between the two of you shrieking incoherently

-          But next time you’re alone, looking for a book in the library…

-          …

-          You and Satan may be a little, lets just say, preoccupied, with something other than books.

ASMODEUS

-          Need I say anything here

-          The only one who is 100% down with this straight off the bat

-          Not even phased in the slightest

-          “Oh, so that’s what you’re into huh~ hmmmm you have good taste” he practically purrs into your ear

-          He’s running his hands over your hips, tracing your neck with his tongue

-          The others have to tear him off of you but when they do he simply smiles and winks at you

-          “You know where to find me if you want to play out your fantasies sweetie~!”

-          If he catches you alone you know he will take that opportunity to do what ever it is you yelped out

-          And of course he will pry to try and figure out more things you’re into

-          Purposely make situations where you are more likely to blurt out yet another kink

-          If you do go to him?

-          Well, he’s the avatar of Lust for a reason

-          And you will come to know just what that entails

-          He will ensure you are completely satisfied, no leaving you all fired up and no place to go

-          Good luck ever sleeping alone again

-          Or ever sleeping again without him occupying your time and your bed first

-          You will be busy every night, and will need to learn to avoid secluded closets and quiet rooms alone with him if you don’t want to get railed in public

-          If there’s one thing Asmo appreciates, it’s Voyeurism

-          And if you get caught, don’t think he’ll be stopping any time soon

-          More likely than anything he’ll ask them to join if you’re comfortable with that

-          But the pampering and aftercare he provides is second to none

-          This man practically worships your body through sex

-          If you didn’t know he was once an angel, well, you do now

BEELZEBUB

-          Big beefy teddybear boi just wanted a midnight snack

-          But he found a midnight snacc instead

-          So he is shoulders deep in the fridge hunting for goods

-          You come in to get a glass of water not noticing he is there

-          So when he leans back, lapping up a full tub of custard pudding and swings the door of the fridge closed with a loud *thunk*

-          You whip round in shock and your brain decides to betray you

-          Or perhaps bless you, it really depends how you see it

-          “WHY DONT YOU EAT ME OUT LIKE THAT”

-          …

-          Wide eyes

-          Pupils dilated

-          A new hunger is present and the avatar of Gluttony won’t stop till he’s satisfied

-          He finished the pudding in a second flat and immediately made his way over to you, leaning close to your lips

-          But he hesitates

-          “Did you… mean that?”

-          He asks

-          He is hesitant but hopeful

-          Clearly trying very hard to resist the urge to not ask permission and just dig in

-          But he can see the blush on your face and tell that it was not something you meant to allow to slip out

-          And come on, who could resist his big round eyes gazing down at you

-          If you nod he’ll take it as enough of an answer

-          I hope you don’t mind some public action because this boy is far too focused to cart you back to his room

-          Up on the counter you go, legs spread, bottoms discarded

-          If you’re wearing a skirt it is pushed up

-          He licks up your thighs first before trying his meal

-          This… well, you will be there a good while, he just can’t seem to get enough

-          And once you have let him have a taste, the more he cannot have you, the more he will crave you till he’s begging you to let him try once again

-          The only way he’s stopping is if somebody interrupts you, and it will take a couple tries to actually pull him away

-          He’s a strong boy but he tries so hard to be gentle

-          And if you’re embarrassed he’ll take you to his room and tuck you in, taking the couch out of fear of crushing you unless you insist that it is absolutely, 100% ok to share

-          But if you do let him share…

-          Don’t be surprised if you wake up to him trying you for breakfast

-          It’ll be the only time he’s ever late to breakfast

-          Eventually somebody will come and find you two and once again, it will take a few tries to pull him away

-          But then he’ll give you a beaming smile like sunshine

-          “You’re delicious, let’s go get some more breakfast, huh?”

-          And lead you to the kitchen

-          Diavolo forbid you can ever again look at a kitchen counter without getting turned on

BELPHEGOR ( SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 20)

-          So, it’s not like it was a normal day to start with

-          What with, ya kno

-          Belphie breaking out from the attic

-          And going ape shit

-          And trying to kill you

-          So of course, in what could have been your final moments, your last words, the thing they would read at your funeral or put on your gravestone

-          Your brain really said ‘hm, how do I want to be remembered, as this very angry, vengeful demon stands over me ready to slaughter me?’

-          “IF YOU’RE GUNNA FUCK ME OVER AT LEAST MAKE ME COME FIRST”

-          …

-          Belphie doesn’t know if it’s the rush of emotions or the heat of the moment or the fact that those are the worst last words that have ever been conceived by a living being

-          But he just

-          BURSTS out laughing

-          Completely breaks

-          He’s on the floor

-          None of the brothers know what to do

-          One minute he’s about to kill you, the next you say… *THAT* and then his reaction is to start rolling around on the floor, tears streaming down his face, uncontrollably laughing so hard that he’s clutching his sides in pain

-          And what do you do?

-          What do you say?

-          “… wow I cant believe that worked”

-          Absolute fits

-          He can’t contain it

-          He manages to supress his laughter for a short while once he finds out about Lilith’s connection to you

-          But at this point he was already gunna keep you

-          He can’t bring himself to kill anyone who would voluntarily go out with those words, it would be WAY more fun to spectate such a lunatic, not to mention the abject horror across Lucifer’s face is more than enough to sate his hunger for revenge for enough time to process and calm himself down

-          But he’s not going to forget this, human

-          You just wait

-          …

-          3 days and you find out that he has teamed up with Mammon and made TSHIRTS

-          TSHIRTS that say what could have been your last words

-          Not only that, they’re selling them at Majolish and it’s a best seller

-          And he’s rubbing it in your face

-          Yeah

-          You will never live this down

-          At least he seems to be getting along with most of his brothers now

-          Who knew you being a horny idiot with no verbal filter would be the thing that saved your life?

-          Certainly not you

-          All of Devildom knows what you said

-          And you can bet Solomon bulk buys some t-shirts and sells them in the human world too

-          He’ll wear one until Simeon manages to pry it off of him, saying it’s inappropriate to wear around Luke

-          That won’t stop him from teasing you about it too though

[sakuzaddy]

play pretend (sakusa x f!reader)

Warning (?): Mentions of bullying/harassment

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Chapter 5

A few weeks later after the deal, rumors about you and Sakusa dating were spreading like a wildfire. You told Akio and Asami about the deal you made with Sakusa and Komori. Asami almost cried when she found out, Akio however, is still not fine with it, but he didn’t do anything against it.

 As for you, the past few weeks felt like hell. You couldn’t even eat, read or do anything without feeling overwhelmed of the stares that the students were giving you. A few girls tried to befriend you, but you know what they want, and that is to get close to your fake boyfriend.  You feel like your every move was being watched…it’s excruciating. You wonder if this is the reason why Sakusa’s ex-girlfriend broke up with him.

 Komori is trying his best to make sure you won’t back out of your deal. He’s treating you to lunch, he’s always trying to offer you help, he’s always trying to lift your spirits up—in other words, it feels like he’s the one you’re fake dating instead of Sakusa.

Komori tried to give the two of you some alone time during the past few days, but it always ends up with you and Sakusa staring awkwardly at each other or the two of you ignoring one another. You couldn’t count how many times Komori facepalmed seeing the two of you.

 “Look, this fake relationship won’t work if the two of you won’t cooperate.” Komori tells the two of you as he crosses his arms, “Can you…I don’t know, do what a close-knit couple would do?” You avoid eye contact with him while Sakusa just stares at his cousin. Komori heaved a sigh. Why do I feel like I’m talking with children?

 “I know that the two of you don’t want this, that’s why you have to make this look real! It’s already been 3 weeks since this started and it seems like it doesn’t have any effect on Aika-chan.” Komori says. “You’re going to be stuck with each other longer than you expect.” Yeah, he has a point.

 You kept on trying to initiate something between you and Sakusa, but your shy ass is keeping you from making any move. You really don’t have any romantic experience because of your volleyball career, so you have no choice but to use those sappy romance movies that you have watched as reference. But you can’t imagine you and Sakusa being like that. Ugh.

 Sakusa on the other hand, just doesn’t give a damn. Or so you thought.

 --

 You sing to yourself as you make your way to the water dispenser, hands full of empty water bottles. You didn’t notice a group of girls chatting at the end of the hallway, smiles were wiped off their faces when they notice you. Their eyes follow your figure as you walk right past them, like a predator watching their prey.

 You place the first water bottle that you refilled to the side, but a foot knocks it off the ground, spilling the water everywhere.

 “What the—” You didn’t have the chance to finish your words when someone pulled your hair, making you yelp out in pain.

 “Look at this two-timing bitch!” A girl grabs your chin a little too harshly, forcing you to look at her. Her long-manicured nails pierce your skin, distracting you from the throbbing pain in your scalp. You breathe heavily, your vision disfigured, feeling like you’re about to pass out in a few seconds. No, I got to get out of here.

 “Who do you think you are, huh? You think you’re pretty?” The girl pulling your hair laughs as the other girl slaps your face. “You’re just a stupid girl who doesn’t know her place!” You tried to undo the other girl’s grip from your hair but she just pulls it even more. You feel your chest tighten uncomfortably.

 You tried to elbow her but their two other friends hold each of your arm, preventing you from fighting back. You receive another slap from the girl in front of you. Stop, you wanted to say, but your throat feels dry and you can’t help it but focus more on your breathing.

 “Listen to me, whore. Stop being delusional and wake up!” She brings her face a little too close to yours. “Remember that you and Sakusa-kun are—”

 “That we are what?”

 The girl turns around, her face pales as she looks at the source of the voice. Sakusa stood there without his face mask, his usual glare on his face while in his right hand is his empty water bottle. “S-Sakusa-kun!” The girls that were holding you immediately takes their hand off you as Sakusa walks towards you. He takes your hand in his and gently pulls you behind him. The warmth from his hands feels like spreading throughout your frame, easing the tension in your body. Your breathing returns to its normal pace, helping you regain your composure.

 “What? I dare you to continue what you’re about to say.” Sakusa urges the girl, his voice dripping with venom. The girls, including you, tremble in fear. You feel anxiety build up in your chest once again, but Sakusa squeezes your hand slightly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles when he senses your distress.

 You squeeze his hand back.

 The girl in front of you looks like she’s about to cry, seeing the two of you hold hands. She glares at you before looking at Sakusa, her features softening, as if to tell him that she didn’t do anything wrong.

 “Why are you even defending that girl?” She points at you. “That bitch is fooling around with Komori-kun while dating you!”

 Sakusa’s frown deepens. “Fooling around? And what’s your basis for saying that?”

 “W-well,” Oh, she’s about to make a fool out of herself. “She’s always hanging out with K-Komori-kun and…” She stops, realizing that her reasoning sounds stupid.

 You feel his grip on your hand tighten a bit. “Komori is my cousin and I trust him to look after my girlfriend when I’m not around.” Sakusa tells her. “If your brain can not understand what I had said, then I suggest you stop minding other people’s business and start educating yourself.”

 Sakusa tugs on your hand as you walk away from the girls, their heads lowered in shame.

 “I don’t want to see the four of you ever again.”

 --

 Sakusa finally lets go of your hand once you turned to a corner. His warmth lingered in your hands and you feel kind of disappointed that the physical contact didn’t last longer. He looks at you for a moment, his obsidian eyes landing on your swollen cheek.

 “We need to get some ice packs.” He tells you.

 He turns around, and starts to lead the way to the infirmary. You follow him, lagging behind as you debate with yourself if you should say something or not.

 Finally finding the courage, you open your mouth to speak.

 “S-Sakusa-san…” You trailed off. Sakusa stops in his tracks and looks at you over his shoulder, waiting for you to continue.

 “Thanks for saving me.” You managed to say without stuttering. You want to pat yourself on the back for that.

 “Hmm.” Sakusa responds with a hum and continues to walk towards the infirmary. You feel a surge of happiness course through you, despite his dry reply. You bite your lower lip to suppress your smile as you catch up to him. Somehow, you don’t feel scared of him anymore.

 That’s a big step forward.

Next ↠

 A/N: ASGJADGJAS I don’t feel satisfied with this chapter but I hope u guys liked it!

TAGLIST: OPEN (Send an ask to be tagged/removed)

@yeondays @veenusvalkryie @caeneri @flyhaikyuu2​ @of-heroes-and-dreams​ @ladymartiini​ @kara-grayson04 @akaashislefttoe @puffybubby143  @alyssasteaparty​ @oikawalmart-hq​

[jinmukangwrites]

G or H with Legend?! :D thank u!

G: a fistfight

-o-o-o-o-

WARNINGS: This drabble has some non-consentual touching. Nothing overly sexual, just chest/face stuff. If that's not your tea, then don't read, and if you do read and have any discomfort, don't get mad at me about it because I have warned ya. This took a different direction than what I was planning, but idk it was fun to write. There's also some injury/blood description but that's expected with me.

-o-o-o-o-

"Out of all the heroes in your little group," she sneers, lips curling in a horrible smirk as the air around her sparks with electricity with her evil magic, "you're the worst of them. And I know, because I've seen all of their heads."

Legend can hardly stand. His entire body aches with a bone deep pain, his sword arm is limp to his side, blood dripping down from a multitude of nasty cuts, his sword shattered at his feet. He can't listen to her words, she's been in his head and she's seen everything, and no matter how true or false her words are, he cannot fall here. He cannot. He has others to save.

The witch crackles as he painfully straightens his stance, he can barely feel his legs but he stands as tall as he can. He can fight her, even without his sword. Even without any of his weapons. Even though she knows so much about him and all of his strengths and weaknesses. His battles. His enemies. His failures. That cursed spell she hit him with showed her everything, but that doesn't mean she knows him. He can best her, bare handed if he must.

"How many people have you failed, hero?" She asks. She sounds too happy. Like she's already won, and it has him grinding his teeth. "More than you've saved, that's for sure."

"SHUT UP!" Legend snarls. His legs feel like ground meat but he rushes forward anyway as he reals back his good hand and aims right for her jaw.

His throws his punch, and she's not there. Moved out of the way like a water spider on a still pond. Before he could even look around and find her, a fist is slammed into his side, violently emptying his lungs. He chokes for air and stumbles back to find her standing besides him with a smile on her face. Her suffocating magic aura is no longer in the air; she's deemed him weak enough to not even have to use her magic any longer. It makes his toes curl in anger.

She's enjoying herself. Like a snake, she is enjoying herself. "How many people were on that island?" She asks, skipping everything else has has ever done and going for the throat.

He would be lying if he said he didn't flinch, not that he would admit it either. "You don't know anything!"

"Oh but I saw it all," she replies back in a soothing voice that could only be described as toxic. She's drunk with her own power, he doesn't need to see her blood to know she's infected. Something enhanced her power, and she used it to capture everyone. Everyone but him. She wanted to play mind games, telling him from the beginning that she feeds off pain like a parasite, and according to her he's dripping with it. "I saw that island. I saw the monsters you brought there, the people they've harmed."

"Stop it."

"The girl? What was her name? M-"

Legend cuts her off with a scream, angrily rushing forward to try and shut her up. She doesn't know. She doesn't understand. Seeing isn't the same as knowledge; you can see a word but not understand what it means. He knows this. He knows this. She doesn't know, she doesn't understand, she doesn't know him, she doesn't understand his past, she doesn't know her, she doesn't understand what he did to her.

He misses again, and this time it has more consequences than a simple jab to the side. The side of his face explodes in agony as knuckles slam into his cheek. He reals backwards and blindly swings his fist again. His head is spinning but he can feel his fist hit something. Her shoulder, perhaps? Either way, he doubles over as a hard jab slams into his stomach with a heaving gasp. Spittle flies from his mouth and his ears begin to ring.

He's been trained on so many weapons, but there's nothing quite light fighting with your own hands with someone else, nothing quite like losing to that someone else.

And he knows he's losing. He knows he's losing because hands wrap around his collar and slam him backwards against a stone pillar nearby. His back erupts in agony and his lungs shutter to try and suck in air, but he grabs at her hands that are still around his collar. Her face is right up at his.

"You're pathetic," she says. And yes, he does flinch. He feels raw, peeled away like a patient knife to the bark of a branch. "You've lied and cheated and sought for your own happiness, not caring about the people you hurt, the people you kill along the way. What would the others say, to know their veteran is so dishonorable."

"It wasn't real!" He screeches and tries to hit her face, but the air around her crackles and while he does hit her, it's like he hits a brick wall instead of her cheeks. She leers over him, her height giving her an intimidating advantage as she brings her face closer. Fear makes his heart jump as her mouth goes to his throat, stopping before contact can be made but her hot breath makes him want to puke. She's like a predator, and not for the first time in his life he feels like a cornered rabbit.

"You're in so much pain," she says softly. Raspy. "It's so good. You're a gold mine of emotions and I can hardly contain myself from..."

She brings her face away from his neck and before he could take a breath his lips are stolen. He gasps into her mouth and tries to back away, but the stone pillar is hard and unmovable behind him. She deepens her mouth onto his and moans, her hands trailing on his body, leaving poison in their wake. He's never felt so scared, and it takes him too long to remember what he has on his wrist.

But when he does remember, he uses the magic so quickly. One second, her body is pressed against his, and the next he's simply a painting on the wall and running. He doesn't stick around to see what she does next, he just runs and escapes thanks to that stupid bracelet he forgot he had.

She doesn't chase after him, and he eventually finds himself alone in the forest far away from that battle. His legs give out, his breath are nothing but short gasps and pants as he curls up on the ground. His stomach wants to rebel, but the only thing he can do is try not to cry as her touch burns like a fire on his lips and chest. His mind races because she could have chased him. She could have grabbed him and finished whatever she was trying to start, but she didn't.

She wanted him to run, and she wanted to chase, and he got the feeling that whatever happens next, he won't bring the others to freedom until every one of his walls are torn down.

[disaster-dan]

Coffee - Winterspider

Peter Parker is finally in his first year of college, working hard, filled with enthusiasm and drowning himself in coffee that it concerns senior student Bucky Barnes who's had his eyes on the college freshman for a good while now. Bucky Barnes is one social mess that just wants to meet the cute boy who runs on caffeine and hold his hand.

A/N: this was longer than I intended. But hey a post! You can read on AO3 for more tags :) also dont drink too much coffee. enjoy this piece of trash-

Words: 4k

----

He was a freshman, telling from the visible school ID hanging from the university’s merchandise lanyard around his neck.

Nobody carried their ID like that unless it was a freshman. Older classmen also didn’t look hopeful on campus. Whoever he was, his eyes gleamed excitement, some light that Bucky wasn’t certain if it bothered him. It caught his attention for sure, enough for Bucky to actually recognize a face around campus that wasn’t Steve or Sam or Natasha.

During the seminar, the introduction, the welcoming of the freshmen, the ‘fergies’ which was a combination of ‘freshmen’ and ‘first year’ which was just terrible. All of them, excited, looking around the building as if it was Hogwarts, chattering and asking questions and making stupid exclamations only newly-out-of-high-school students made, taking pride in the word “fergies”. It was recommended to make friends and acquaintances during the introduction. Peter hadn’t exactly made friends that day, or the following. He blended in to the walls. Nobody noticed him.

Bucky noticed him because he was like that too. Invisible. Unnoticed. Unbothered. Not as overly happy as Peter looked but the invisible part was what mattered.

Peter liked going to the cafeteria. He had coffee nearly every time, more than once in one sitting sometimes. He had dreamed of college student privileges and having coffee at any hour he wanted was one of them.

Bucky sat next to Steve, both helping Sam map out a schedule. There was Peter a few tables down, Bucky had decided to look at his ID one day and his name was Peter Benjamin Parker which was possibly the dorkiest name Bucky’s seen, scribbling at his agenda and a hot steam coming from the mug next to him. He used sugar, a lot of it. Bucky didn’t even use creamer on his coffee since he had it black.

That was the final thing that Bucky’s brain needed to register him in his mind. The fucking sugar.

Bucky was already horrible at making friends. He had known Steve and Sam long enough and that made their friendship remain. He became friends with Natasha when the girl introduced herself and blatantly said, “You have a serial killer vibe”. So the four of them united. But Bucky didn’t outright make friends. He didn’t want to either. People steered away from him, as wearing no other face besides the one Natasha described as ‘the face of an assassin who’s hungry for chicken nuggets’ sort of tended to keep others at bay.

Introducing himself to Peter was not plan number one. He didn’t have a plan for that matter. He hoped Peter was the one who would introduce himself but he probably didn’t even notice Bucky’s existence. He didn’t want to makeshift an entire scene where he purposely bumped into him apologized and one of the two would introduce themselves like that. Or maybe Peter could drop something. Or maybe Peter would ask for directions somewhere. All those possibilities had to be discarded because they were impossible.

He hadn’t mentioned to his friends of this recently found freshmen and crush. He assumed the ‘crush’ thing was over but he was wrong. He couldn’t get enough of the boy’s face, walked out of campus with Peter on his mind. He was small, not short but most guys beat him with a few inches. Bucky was much taller than him by various inches. He made an observation once in the distance, he wondered what it would feel like to have him wrapped in his arms. Bucky was taller and bigger than Peter, he felt like the Goliath to David. He longed to hold him close, make him feel safe and warm. He thought about a lot.

He ended up in the cafeteria before any of his friends one day. Their usual table by the window where it faced the best part of the school, the garden where the sun shone on just right on the grass and leaves. Nobody had arrived yet. Bucky was typically first anyways, he walked briskly.

He slid his bag to the table and then heard a sigh in the distance too familiar to his ears. His eyes found the source and without mistake, Peter Benjamin Parker was a few tables down, concentrated on his phone and a ridiculous thick textbook. He really liked living, didn’t he.

Bucky noticed he didn’t have a usual mug or cup of coffee in his hands. Which was an anomaly in Peter Parker. Peter always had coffee, some form of caffeine, something to keep his rigid and dancing hands around something. That special thing of Peter was missing. Bucky saw this as a heaven-sent opportunity for something.

Bucky made a turn towards the coffee brewers, taking a mug and flashing lazily his ID to the person on the counter. Mutely he continued with the coffee, his mind playing a repeating video of Peter making his own. Coffee brew, creamer of which there was four type so Bucky opted for original, then a crazy amount of sugar that slightly concerned him. The final touch was a small spoon and he stirred. And if everything went to plan- which he was making along the way- things would go good. Or they could turn out horribly wrong and ruin whatever Bucky’s goal was.

He looked over his shoulder, Peter’s eyes still glued on the text before him. He looked down at the mug in his hands, praying that it be the best goddamn coffee he’s made in his entire somber life. His personality gave him no hope, he hadn’t bothered to fix his hair that day either. Things could go horribly wrong.

He walked over, each step making his heart beat faster against his chest, narrowing his eyes and told himself to breathe. Peter looked harmless, he looked polite unlike the other students who were unbearably obnoxious and rude. Bucky had never actually been to close proximity to Peter and he realized that when he was less than twenty feet away.

He still had time to make an abrupt and awkward U-turn to his table with coffee that wasn’t black and with too much sugar. Then again he didn’t know when the next opportunity would rise like this one. They wouldn’t meet with just Bucky’s distant staring or his wishes and dreams. He was where he was now, he could finish the deal.

By ten feet, Bucky was following through with a very tight grasp on the mug. Nobody would have known he was nervous. He didn’t really show his feelings, not that he tried to hide them. Showing them would make him more human and less like a cyborg ready to destroy humanity. It kept the uptight jocks away however, left him unbothered and at peace. Lonely sometimes.

Peter didn’t notice Bucky pulled up to him, he hadn’t heard the footsteps step closer and closer in his direction. When he did it was a halt, audible pause, right next to Peter. The presence didn’t move for two seconds and that’s when Peter realized something was wrong.

Peter held his breath, very carefully lifting his gaze and was met with broad shoulders and following higher a glare of sharp blue eyes.

It was a higher classman, and fuck was he intimidating. He probably wanted that seat and Peter nearly lost his calm at the thought of upsetting him. He was about to move too, reaching for his bag and hands scrambling to gather his pencil and pens.

“Sor-” Peter didn’t finish. A steaming mug placed right in front of him, smelling like heaven's in cloud nine froze his thoughts.

Peter blinked dazedly and lifted his face to see the person who had for some reason placed a mug of coffee to him and held his breath.

“W-”

“You usually get coffee with a lot of sugar. I don’t know what type of creamer you use so I just used the original.” It made Peter breathe in.

As far as Bucky’s appearance was, Peter was terrified. He didn’t even try to meet eye level with Peter who was sitting down. He stood, tall and straight, shoulders squared, only hardly craning his head to look down at Peter. His arms hung to his side, fisted, muscle. Veins.

“I- Yeah. I do.” He said quietly, not ignoring the soft steam and the unblinking, strikingly stern posture of the man.

He looked at the light brown beverage, carefully wrapping his hands around the mug, warmth flooding his fingers and palms. It smelled amazing. “Thanks.” He said with a tone of confusion. He was not going to deny the coffee on the account that he loved it and the possibility of pissing the student off. How had he known about his coffee?

Bucky shoved his hands into his pockets, not bothering to ‘you're welcome’, not bothering to introduce himself which is what he should’ve done miles before getting Peter a fucking mug of coffee and turned to walk to where he came from. There was a sudden heat on his face, he knew he was blushing and knowing he was blushing made him blush harder and his back burned as he strayed further away from Peter who probably thought he was some creep. Even if Peter wasn’t thinking that.

-

The guy hardly smiled and if he smiled it was probably around really close people to him. He didn’t even offer recognition to any professors who greeted students throughout campus. He walked, no indication of caring for anything else but going to where he was supposed to. Peter had finally begun to notice the small jerks his head gave when they crossed paths or were somewhat in a distance of each other. Or his eyes that flashed when they had scanned Peter in the room before looking forward again with soldier-like precision. Bucky was definitely an apex predator and Peter was the prey.

Peter would be hiding and horrified if Bucky wasn’t so goddamn Bucky.

Peter doubted Bucky was even mindful of his looks. His hair was constantly a mess, a half bun up tied with no intent of making it look good but hell it looked good. He probably didn’t sleep much, his stubble grew and Bucky trimmed the thing instead of shaving it off. It was scruffy, made him look intimidating. He looked snuggly under the right light which was the only light Peter was seeing as of currently ever since their meet.

He found him in the library once. Peter went to the silent section of the building, he had an upcoming assessment and every spec of dust would be a distraction. James Barnes was definitely a distraction, learning his name through the asking of many people. He wasn’t stalking, he was observant. They called him “Bucky” too.

Gut churning and heart racing, Peter made his way to the lone wolf in the room. There were other free tables and Bucky had predictably chosen the one furthest from civilization. It was safe to approach, he assumed. Bucky had already gotten him coffee without Peter asking, he got shy around Peter (Peter noticed), so if Peter’s math was correct Bucky would like his company. Right?

Peter was seeking his company as of lately. The sudden surprise of coffee and how his blue eyes lit up when he saw Peter didn’t mean nothing. It meant something. And May had taught him to take chances, jump the leaps, chase curiosity. He was taking all sorts of leaps.

He chose the seat right next to the man, next to him, pulled the chair out and took a seat. He breathed in deeply beforehand, forcing his arms to not tremble at such proximity to the student.

Bucky was going to move, thinking some ragged student wanted the entire table for themselves. He really disliked the student body.

Luckily he recognized the fluff of brown hair and the old bookbag the moment Peter sat down. He couldn’t help but turn to glance, confused and excited. His eyes widened when the image of Peter Parker next to him was crystal clear. He stopped breathing when he was met with the pale smooth face and the gorgeous brown eyes. Peter gave him a small raise of eyebrows, a Peter raise of eyebrows. His eyes were beautiful. Bright and cute-

“Can I sit here?” Bucky’s eyes quickly glanced at his lips and back to his eyes, nodded mutely, and Peter’s relieved sigh made his heart flip. “Just… needed a quiet place and peace.” he said with finality, pulling out his subject assessment.

Peter wanted to jump in joy, noticing from the corner of his eye the smallest smile on Bucky’s lips.

-

“I just said it doesn’t seem like you kiss a lot.”

“I don’t understand why we are talking about my kissing.”

“Trust me, it’s bad.”

“Don’t side with her, Sam.”

“It’s like you’re a virgin.”

“Buck.”

Steve huffed at his friends and Bucky ducked his head to cover a snicker.

They loved their Steve, teasing relentlessly was their group hobbie.

Peter caught Bucky’s shy smile and his cheeks set higher ablaze. Who knew he would have such a reaction. Bucky was handsome. And the small braids that tied into his half bun were just a living art piece. He would personally write a thank you letter to Natasha for having done that.

His fingers twitched as they took hold of the steaming mug of hot black coffee. Simple, plain, dark and delicious. Peter could only breathe in, calming his nerves and then turning direction towards the college seniors. Courage bubbled in his chest.

‘You got this.’ He told himself and then his feet began to move towards the table.

Bucky’s face wasn’t looking at Peter, he hoped he didn’t catch him by surprise. It would be bad to surprise Bucky. He was not doing that, even after the small moments of silence they shared on their library-study-dates. They weren't officially dates but Peter liked the idea of them being dates.

He was at close reach and he held himself from running when one of the group members lifted a questioning gaze at him.

Peter swallowed and look down at Bucky. “I-I noticed you have your c-coffee black.”

Peter. Bucky immediately recognized.

Bucky blinked, glancing at the beautiful beverage and up  at the beautiful boy with pink flooding his cheeks and an expression that Bucky just wanted to frame. To kiss, really.

“I do.” he said, voice low and accepted the mug from the boy’s hands when he offered it. They both purposely tried to reach for each other’s hands. The small brush of their fingers made Peter’s heart flutter and his belly tickle with thrill. It made Bucky grin when he noticed their dual action and he nodded up at him knowingly. “Thank you.”

Face burning and a shy smile tugging at his lips, Peter nodded hastily. “Yeahnoproblem.”

Bucky watched as he left, eyeing how he gripped the straps of his backpack and walked in short-hurried steps. He wanted to laugh, run after him, kiss his dorky smile, hold him close. He didn’t though. He didn’t know what the coffee or hand-touching meant. It meant something but he didn’t know what. He didn’t worry about it much, soon enough with more interactions like those- he’d find out. He would.

He peacefully drank, quietly loving the remarks and teasing his friends threw at him and for once looking forward to the halls of the campus.

-

“This is too much. What the fuck, man. I’m real tired.”

“Take a nap.” Bucky suggested, flipping the page of his text book. He knew how to study, he had specific ways of studying for every class all of which applied to learning the subject smoothly according to how easy or hard it was for him. He’s helped Peter study a few ways, index cards, re-reading, short quizzes- Peter in return had done the same. He liked to distract Bucky really.

Peter let himself fall back flat on his bed, sliding the laptop off his laps and sighing obnoxiously. It didn’t bother Bucky, a lot of things didn’t bother Bucky. People fidgeting around him made him nervous though. Peter stopped biting his nails with a single slap to the hand from Bucky and a darkly growled “fucking stop”. Now his fingers weren’t stub or irritated anymore. The light natural pink had returned to his nails.

“I don’t have to write this essay.”

“You have to write the essay.”

Peter huffed and spread his arms wide. “What for?”

“For a grade.”

Peter groaned, flipping to lie on his stomach, dying to do anything to excuse himself from the one fourth of his written essay. He turned his face to Bucky who sat on his desk while writing down notes from the reading he had open. Brows dug, mouth in a thin line with barely a muscle making a pout. He did that when he thought or concentrated. He had nice lips. Real nice lips.

Peter’s eyes dragged themselves from his hand, the pen looking ridiculous small in his fingers. He had big biceps, strong shoulders. He didn’t wear sleeves around Peter, that meant he was comfortable around him now to not feel the need to cover himself. Shirts looked good on him just as they looked good off. Wearing a shirt was an eternal tease, holding back the beauty of his body, clothing fitting so well on his broad shoulders. They hugged his body, making Peter drool. Or when it was loose and baggy it made Peter curious about underneath. He’d seen Bucky shirtless before, not long enough though.

Peter dragged himself to sit on the edge of his bed and reached for his cooling coffee, his mouth appreciating the flavor that flooded and easingly went down. In Peter’s room, he had in the corner desk a small coffee machine that May had granted him as a gift when he finished his first semester. He was doing well, out of home, taking challenging classes, Peter deserved a coffee machine. Bucky on ocassion brought him stupid sugar shopping, he said it was as a joke but really it became a habit here and there to get the boy either sugar or caffeine.

Bucky glanced at his friend and huffed out a small chuckle.

“Довольно?”

Peter didn’t know Russian, but he knew it had to do something with his drink. So he tipped his chin up and smiled. “I love my coffee.”

“Кофе.”

“Ah yes, кофе.”

Peter grinned at Bucky’s smile, the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled made Peter’s heart jump. Bucky shook his head playfully at his small friend and his quirky ways.

They hadn’t really done anything, not in the light anyway. Everything was in the dark, too short and too small, not relevant enough to be mentioned the next day. At first it was just hand holding, in the dark, watching movies and the screen not even bright enough to illuminate their actions. Then it was the bed thing. They bunked some nights with the ‘on your side’ rule which dissolved after the third sleepover and Peter was spooning Bucky’s muscular form.

It was not new the strong emotion that stirred in Peter when he was around Bucky. He hadn’t really dwelled on his sexuality up until the end of high school. He didn’t want a label or dealing with stereotypes- Peter was just Peter. His emotions were perfectly okay to feel. He didn’t worry too much when he realized that his feelings for James were more than friendship or admiration. It was attraction, and he didn’t care one bit, he knew Bucky felt the same. Even if neither of them brought it up, they were incredibly sheepish.

It had become natural to feel each other, touch each other in small ways, embrace, all in the dark. That was why it took Bucky by surprise when Peter drew him away from his notes, turned the spinning chair and stood with legs on either side of Bucky’s laps.

Bucky stared up at the boy, confused and intrigued in what Peter had suddenly brought into their day. Peter looked at his blue eyes, at his red smooth lips that didn’t touch his enough. His hands found the bearded face of the man, holding him gently and drawing him a bit closer to Peter’s face. Bucky inhaled and quirked an eyebrow at Peter. Peter didn’t give him an answer, only held himself still, taking in what he was about to initialize and wondering of the hands on his hips and what they could do to him.

The first time they kissed they were both high, far into the late ghost hours. They kissed for a short moment on Bucky’s couch and then pulled away, debating if they enjoyed it as if tasting something for the first time. Of which they did.

The ‘most’ that was done was again during a sleepover. Peter’s back was pressed snug against Bucky’s warm chest. Nothing had actually taken place but Bucky’s curious fingers had gone from softly running along Peter’s abdomen, playing with the string of his joggers, slipping inside his boxers and eventually a hand cupping softly there. His cock.

Peter’s heart was pumping hard against his chest and he could sense Bucky’s was too. That was all it was, after a few minutes both were back to relaxed and dozing off. Bucky didn’t massage or stimulate him, Peter hadn’t gotten hard either although the peaking of arousal was there. Bucky’s hand had felt Peter’s member twitch too. They weren’t there yet, wherever or whatever they were. Holding his flaccid penis as they slept was not the strangest thing Bucky had done.

Bucky swallowed thickly when Peter sat his butt right on Bucky’s groin, shifting slightly to make himself at home.

He felt a little stupid, Peter was the one who iniciated things like these. Bucky avoided starting anything, it felt safer the smaller of the two started what they were both thinking. And Peter, fuck, he waited and thought about it so much. To run his hands all along Bucky’s body. He might’ve done that for a small moment, somewhere in the hidden darkness of their activities.

He wanted to see. And he wanted more than lost seconds.

The warmth of Peter’s hands that first explored his shoulders and collar bones, wide open palms on his pecs sent heat down to his groin. Peter’s ass on him was not making anything better.

Peter kissed Bucky’s forehead lightly as his hands rummaged the muscle on Bucky’s torso and arms. He felt tiny, so small on Bucky’s laps, the wide hands on his hips traveled to his waist and enjoyed the shape and feel of his body there.

He sighed softly, moving his hips and flushing his groin right on to Bucky’s. He groaned in response and his hands forced a grind from Peter.

“Oh-”

Bucky surged forward and captured the boy’s lips on his own. Peter moaned sweetly against him and allowed the man to move him whatever way he wanted and relieve the pressure and friction on both their lower regions.

He felt secure in Bucky’s arms, against his body, arousal was definitely a sensation Peter felt occasionally when they hung out. Now, Peter didn’t have to feel guilty for that. He chased the feeling of pleasure and desire, mounting Bucky a bit higher and ground his still clothed erection against his abdomen. He moaned into the older male’s mouth and whined when he felt Bucky drawing him away.

“Huh?”

“Bed.” he grumbled, hands snaking under Peter’s thighs and hoisting him securely as he rose to his feet.

Peter clung and kissed all around the man’s mouth. He had grown especially fond of his beard. He liked how it felt under his fingers- and on other parts of him.

His back softly touched his bed and his arms wrapped around Bucky’s shoulders pulled him down greedily. Peter was not forceful, he got excited and that provoked stronger reactions in the boy and Bucky loved those little moments. He wished Peter didn’t hold back too much, because Bucky was going to take what he yearned for ever since the two of them had begun to dream about each other.

“My laptop.” the boy said between kissing, worrying slightly for the condition of his dorm.

“Fuck your laptop.” Bucky growled out as he lifted his shirt over his head and throwing it somewhere.

Peter giggled in response, accepting the deep kiss Bucky returned to him and let himself sink into the bliss that his now-boyfriend was going to give him.

[griimreaping]

@owlsector​ ⟶ ❤ for teasing kisses along hipbones and lower (from the drabble meme) (u know from who)

Tasting your own medicine always turns out more bitter than you initially realize. This is why Jean sulks over the last few manila folders of debriefs that she'd been putting off to the previous two weeks, much to the chagrin of both Jack and Gabe. Of course, she'd meant to get to them, just as she'd meant to get to the growing stack of NATO briefings that she needed to be read into. Jean groans, one hand propping up the woman's chin as a pen scratches along the many signature lines and evidence record boxes. That suffocating whiff of too much printer ink and official bureaucratic nonsense lingered around every one of those folders, putting Jean in worse spirits.  

For all the times that she'd slipped into Gabriel's office when the woman is aware of the mountain of paperwork he sits on only to leave him flushed and covered in her lipstick, the woman wouldn't have thought to have the same treatment bestowed upon herself. That ghostly tingle of his calloused fingers pressed around Jean's throat as his mouth fervently claimed her own. 

There's always a type of fierce restrained hunger when they kissed, knowing they didn't have enough time to savor one another – like feeling a lashing storm from the other side of a door. From the way, his hands roamed Jean's form, trying to feel the heated skin beneath scratchy issued PJs, to the way her nails left stinging lines along his scalp. Parting breathless and lips still wet with the other's taste, he had growled that one word, which still echoed in Jean's mind.

❛ Later. ❛ 

Easing her fingers along the place where his had graced an hour or so before the woman sighs, scribbling her signature in another box. Two more and freedom would be hers. Gaze sliding from the paperwork for just a moment, Jean taps awake her datapad sending a quick text message to Gabriel ( wherever he might be roaming ), then closed it.

Reclining back on the standard-issue bed's rumpled sheets with the finished papers around her, Jean has the decency to collect them all and stick them on the desk. While standing next to the small work littered metal desk, the woman clicks the lamp off, casting the room in a dim glow provided by the chemical yellow lights that line the perimeter of HQ's compound. Padding into the small bathroom attached to the larger bedroom area, Jean rolls through the steps of her nightly routine, the prospect of finishing what they had started already beginning to fade disappointingly. There's a mutual understanding that free time is hard to come by in professions such as theirs, so when it went weeks or even months with no contact with each other, it didn't spark surprise. 

What did spark surprise is when the soldier moves back into her bedroom and sees Gabe sitting on her bed, features cast in relief by the lights outside. Deep brown eyes glittering as they deliberately drank in her form, making Jean's stomach twist in a way she hadn't felt in months. Seven missions and more time than they'd realized went between now and the last time they'd even gave a passing nod in the hallway. Releasing a breath that she hadn't realized was being held, there's a split second of two predators eyeing one another — palpable anticipation of the first move. 

Crossing the room in three quick steps, Jean's hands find Gabriel's jaw instantly bringing his lips to hers. A low starved groan vibrates into the embrace as her knees hug his sides, sinking into the gunman's lap as if she'd always belonged there. Slowly grinding her hips down as every thought is kissed away, Jean tries to breathe properly through her nose, not wanting to break. If there's one thing that always held true for people in their profession, you can always tell what they do simply by the smell of gunpowder that seems to be ingrained into their skin. Under the soapy clean military facade are the guns and blood and danger. 

Words are sparse as hands pull at clothing and that bone-deep fire of arousal begins to flare from its embers. Gabriel's teeth make imprints on the tender skin of Jean's throat, pulling a breathless sound that goes straight through him. Shirts are tossed into some unimportant corner of the small room, pants joining them soon after. It's then that the animal rush of needing to feel bare skin seems to lull for a moment. Laying there beneath Gabe's broad frame, Jean fixes him with a dreamy ponderous look. Fingertips gingerly tracing the curve of his throat that boldly displays her marks, the woman's touch is a stark comparison to how rough they'd been a heartbeat previous. 

There aren't quite words for what she wants to express, yet Gabe understands, all the same, turning his head so he can press his lips to the inside of her palm. Then lacing more chaste kisses along Jean's wrist and arm, he expertly exhibits the strength in his body, smoothly making his way down the small bed to kneel on the floor before Jean. That doe-eyed look that she gives him has his cock throbbing where it's trapped within his boxers. Gripping an ankle in one calloused hand, Gabe pulls Jean to the bed's edge, grinning as she squeaks from the rough handling. 

Taking the time to massage the soldier's legs, he leisurely pushes them apart, taking note of the way Jean's fingers knead the sheets with a muffled whine. Mouthing along the inside of her thigh, Gabe none too gently grazes the pad of his thumb along with Jean's panties, feeling how damp she is already. 

❛ Been missing me, huh? ❛                     his voice is raspy as those brown eyes fix the woman with a wickedly greedy look that has her squirming beneath the deliberate touch. Reaching the underwear's lace hem, Gabe works a hickey into Jean's skin just above the cream-colored frill, kissing it afterward as if it would soothe the angry bruise. Leaning back to tug Jean's underwear off and flick them over a shoulder, Gabe resumes where he had left off, kissing lower and relishing in every little breathless sound the woman beneath him makes in response. That electric tingle that came with sharp nails across his scalp had the gunman growling deep in the back of his throat as he came to his prize. 

❛ Let's see if you still taste as good as I remember. ❛   

[thecomicsnexus]

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES #22-23 JUNE - JULY 1989 BY MARK MARTIN

SYNOPSIS (FROM TURTLEPEDIA)

As the issue begins, the turtles are ransacking their lair after receiving a bomb threat, shortly after their encounter with the Time Traveler girl from issue #16. The lads aren't having any luck locating the explosive, but Leonardo is confident that the threat is real... as his "Turty Sense" is tingling. As Leo appeals to his brothers to continue the search, Raphael grabs the TV remote out of boredom. As he clicks the button, Leo screams, "NO!" and then the TV launches a bomb out of its screen. Meanwhile, six years in the future, we see the young girl emerging from her time machine. She's pleased to have arrived safely home, after her problems back in issue #16. She's not so pleased to find a bizarro monster waiting for her (although it does offer her a cookie). The girl screams and flees her apartment, by crashing through a second story window. Fortunately, the monster completes an acrobatic catch and sets her safely to the ground, where the child bursts into another sprint. The creature then zaps the terrified child with a freezing ray and engages her in conversation.

We learn that the alien is an ambassador of an alien race called the Skwal. His name is an unpronounceable symbol, so he goes by the name of "George." We finally find out that the girl's name is Dale Evans McGillicutty. George explains that Dale is in big trouble—as is all of humanity. The Skwal have been watching the planet Earth, attempting to keep the human race from destroying themselves (unfortunately the aliens arrived too late, so things on Earth are already too messed up to fix). George has a particular interest in Dale, as she invented the time machine (although thanks to her manipulation of time, she actually didn't - ah temporal anomalies). George needs Dale to use her time machine to go back 2 million years into the past and attempt to change the mindset of humanity, to make the species less violent and thereby giving hope to the future of the race and planet. However, the window of opportunity is closing rapidly, as the Skwal scientists only think that there's one day left in the time machine's life before it pops out of existence for good. The girl reluctantly agrees to go on the mission, but insists on taking some cargo with her. As Dale activates the machine, things go all higglety pigglety.

Cut back to the present. Master Splinter is there with the four turtles... who are now four odd looking robots. Splinter explains that the bomb went off and blew the Turtles to bits, but he's managed to save their parts as well as their brains, which he's had to place into the robots for safe keeping. As Master Splinter gets busy piecing the Turtles' bodies back together, the TMNRobots head off to Bill's TV Repair to pay April's electric bill. We discover that Bill is demented and very angry at April for refusing to go out with him - so angry that he planted the bomb in her television that blasted our hapless heroes to smithereens. After Bill rants about April, he finally notices the four whacked 'bots in his building and assumes that they're devils. The crazed repairman then activates his giant TV Robot, which attacks the Turtlebots. As the battle ensues, Raph manages to wrest the TV Robot's remote control from Bill, and commands it to sit... unfortunately, the mechanical monster is standing directly above Bill and Raphbot when it receives the command...

Two million years in the past, Dale emerges from her time machine, and is quickly attacked by an apeman. Fortunately the girl has George's ray gun, and she freezes her ancestor in mid-leap. Dale explains to monkeyboy that she's here to make his life easier, so he won't be so violent and humanity will evolve into a more peaceful race. She teaches him about gardening and presents him with a comfy recliner. The Time Traveler also gives the apeman a mask of Jocko (an Australian actor who used to sell batteries in American TV commercials... very odd TV commercials), to protect him from predators. Finally, Dale gives monkeyboy a puppy, for him to snuggle and care for. Mission accomplished, Dale gets back into her time machine and heads for home.

When Dale emerges from the machine, George is ecstatic. Evil men across the globe are turning over a new leaf and becoming more admirable. The world is currently a confused mess, but by morning everyone should have morphed into far nicer creatures, thus making Earth a veritable paradise of peace and love. "No more armies... no more wars... no more weapons..." muses the Skwal...

"In short, nothing to defend yourselves from the Invasoskwals! This great paradise will be ours!" the crafty alien finishes.

"You tricked me!!" exclaims Dale.

Things go haywire once again, and then we cut back to April's apartment, where we find the Turtles returned to their old selves. As they celebrate with Casey Jones and Master Splinter, Mike's soda can pops out of existence. As he asks if anyone saw it happen, April calls out to them to come quick. As the guys rush to find out what's wrong, we see that April is watching the Pee Wee Herman show, and the secret word of the day is "turtle." As Splinter laments the mess the Turtles have made of the place, everyone starts losing their memory... and then the TMNT and Master Splinter revert into their original, non-mutated animal forms. Casey looks up from a crossword puzzle and asks April if she said something... in the final panel we see Ms. O'Neil delighted to find four normal turtles on her sofa.

As this issue opens, we find a disgruntled Dale Evans McGillicutty sulking on a Utopian Earth. "How many stupid times to-stupid-day do I have to save the stupid planet?" she growls as she kicks a mushroom.

As the girl heads into The Forest (marked with a sign labeled, "Abandon Continuity All Who Enter Here"), she's confronted by an angry, costumed rat calling himself The Fannywhacker. The rat demands to know why Dale isn't in school and she points out that it's Sunday, whereby the rat demands to know why she isn't in Sunday School. The girl explains that it's almost dark and Sunday School let out hours ago. An enraged Fannywhacker scribbles demerits on his clipboard before admitting that he's not very good at his job... or anything else. The rat laments that all he wants to do is squash punks and read comic books, but the world is so perfect that there's no crime to punish. As Fannywhacker exclaims that some grave cosmic error must have taken place, Dale decides that he's the one person on Earth desperate (and crazy) enough to get into the quickly deteriorating time machine and try to undo what she had done in the previous issue. Armed with confidence in her companion's instability, the girl hatches a plan...

Meanwhile, back at April's apartment, the Turtles (still in their normal, pet shop turtle form) are stuck in an aquarium and are going stir crazy. The guys try to escape, but their efforts are futile.

Two million years in the past, the ape man is busy in his garden when the dilapidated time machine appears. The happy ape man is overjoyed, thinking that Dale has come back to visit him... but he's rudely alerted to the arrival of The Fannywhacker when the rat greets him with a punch in the jaw. The costumed rodent then destroys the garden and the comfy recliner before launching the puppy into the air with a mighty toss. "Now that oughta incite the little goon!" Fannywhacker decrees.

Monkeyboy runs off to save his dog but returns quickly, infuriated and wearing his Jocko mask. Fannywhacker rips the mask into tiny pieces and then runs off, ape man in hot pursuit. The Fannywhacker makes it back inside the time machine, leaving Homo Habilis outside, kicking the cube in frustration. The rat pops his head out of the vehicle and honks monkeyboy's nose, and then launches the craft forward in time... leaving a very, very angry and very, very frustrated caveman in the past.

As Fannywhacker travels back to the future, he reverts to his true form, that of crime fighter The Gnatrat. Thus, the plans of the Skwal are foiled, and humankind returns to its violent past (and present). Unfortunately for Gnatrat, as he tries to journey home, the time machine begins to come apart...

Back at April's apartment, the Turtles have reverted to their mutated forms... but are knocked senseless, as they were still inside the aquarium when the change took place.

In the sewers, Master Splinter is relaxing by playing a Speed Racer video game when he hears a knock at the door. The Sensei assumes that it must be the Shredder, so he loads a cannon and blasts a hole through the door. Unfortunately for Gnatrat, he was the one behind the door, and the giant projectile embeds itself into the rodent detective's chest.

As Splinter fetches Gnatty a shoe horn to pry the missile out of his torso, the crime fighter explains his predicament: thanks to Dale's malfunctioning time machine, he's now trapped seven years in his past. Splinter hatches a nutty plan to utilize Supperman and Gnatrat's Vulcan mind-meld ability to get Gnatty back to his own time.

Meanwhile, the Turtles have decided to go out for pizza. The boys don their disguises and head out into the night.

Gnatrat (whose secret identity is bazillionaire playboy Boo Swain), buys a restaurant for one million dollars. Gnatty and Splinter put out an "All U Can Eat" sign and wait for Supperman to arrive. As soon as the gluttonous hero sits down, the pair of rats begin to stuff him with tons of food. Supperman eats until he looks ready to explode, wherein Splinter and Gnatrat unveil the "koop da grass!" - a gigantic pizza! The Turtles show up just as the mega pie is pulled from the oven and exclaim that they'll take it. Gnatrat rudely tells the Turtles to beat it. Splinter tells Boo to cool it, as he knows the Turtles and they've had a bad day. Gnatrat continues to be rude and an argument breaks out between the two rodents. Gnatty screams that they're wasting time and their plan will be ruined by the Turtles if they don't hurry. Splinter sighs and then gives the pizza to the TMNT. This action enrages Gnatrat and he attacks the Sensei. Splinter flips the charging Gnatty into the restaurant near the overstuffed Supperman. As the crime fighter stands up and prepares for battle, Supperman lets out an enormous belch, which rockets Gnatrat into the stratosphere, where he orbits the Earth with such incredible speed that he travels forward in time... thus landing back in his own time zone.

Now, Dale in her room, is at home arguing with George. The alien is angry, but he leaves in his ship - and the Earth is saved from alien invasion. From downstairs, Dale's mother yells at the girl for talking to strangers and reminds her that she has a test tomorrow.

"You've really got your work cut out for you, young lady!" Dale's mom screams.

"...I know." Dale states, as she dejectedly reads the newspaper, which is filled with violent headlines.

REVIEW

It doesn’t help that this story kind of starts in a past issue... fortunately, you are brought up to speed in the second chapter.

To me, when a guest artist comes into the TMNT books... I expect him to use the Turtles in his stories. But the only character that appears the most is Splinter, and he is unrecognizable. So while this story is non-canon... It is hard to even assume this is a TMNT story. I wonder what people at the time thought about it.

The art is quite good, bringing an alternative look and a very cute style that actually works for the Turtles.

I give the story a score of 6.

[artificialqueens]

Objects in the Rear View Mirror (Craquameron) - Chapter Nine - Saiphl

But damn me and curse me for still needing you - Chapter Nine

Kameron’s POV

Bless all the girls staying late after school

They’re playing with fire and oh they’re playing it cool

The full intensity of Aquaria’s gaze stays with me even when I saw her driving away from the house. I didn’t really have to pick up anything, but as a sick prank of my mind, this was the only place I’ve thought to hide. I let myself fall on my dad’s favorite couch, and I close my eyes, pressing the bridge of my nose really strong.

I can’t take out of my head the way Aquaria was looking at me, and I’m a fucking coward, but I don’t dare to think about how hard was for me avoiding to touch her. Truth to be told: she’s gorgeous, like you should be blind to not notice it, but this is not the time to find Brianna’s ex beautiful. Leaning my forehead to the door, I try to make my head clear. Living far from Brianna was not easy, but manageable if I didn’t know she’s here, I could keep everything at bay, but now I feel like I need to get her back.

From the minute I turned and laid my eyes on you, I had no eyes of my own

I was blind to the world, you were too good to be true

I go to the backyard and let myself fall on a chair, the summer heat is on its highest point of the day, and the sun, mercilessly heats every surface on its reach. Memories of the last summer I’ve spent in this house start flooding on my head. That was the only summer I had with Brianna. That’s the summer when I fell in love with her.

Distractedly I kick my shoes and walk to the grass. The scent of the fresh cut and the flowers hitting my nose with the full weight of a fading memory. Brianna and I were sitting on a blanket, having a lazy evening with the last red rays of the sun. The Math tutoring long forgotten by the both of us, still lingering in the book laying on the grass on our first day of summer vacation. Her long wavy hair half tied in a messy bun on top of her head, while she was sitting behind me, braiding my hair.

She lightly kisses the back of my neck and I smile. I turned to face her and we made out lazily, taking the time to enjoy each other. That was the first night we spent together, we didn’t actually did it, but we touched and kissed each other in the most magical moment I can remember. Just as I told Aquaria, things between Brianna and me had always been organic. The kind of things that just feel right.

That’s why I can’t risk let me feel attracted to Aquaria. Because if there’s even a slight chance for me to get Bri back, I’d totally screw it by getting attached to the other. Even if I wanted to take Aquaria with me and fuck her senseless and make her forget of my Bri. I shake my head in a poor attempt to dismiss the idea, that slithers through my mind like a serpent threatening to eat me.

How does it amuse you, let me count the pain

How many rules breaking how many games

One thing is true: Aquaria is a predator, one of the most dangerous kind. Her striking looks and natural charm can get you trapped. I sigh loudly, at this point, all I want is to take a shower and bury myself under the bed covers until I feel less disturbed. I hear the alarm of my clock beep, I totally forgot I promised Morgan to at least message her today.  Tripping on my feet I reach for the telephone and I start typing as fast as I can.

Kameron: hey cous! I’m sorry I didn’t call, got a  little busy here.

Morgan: Sure you did bitch, mom is worried as hell, needless to say that I’m too

Kameron: I know, but yesterday I came almost straight from the airport to my dad’s house

Kameron: took forever reading and signing the paperwork

Kameron: then I cleaned my old room, ya’ know, stuff I didn’t have a chance to get back

Morgan: you ok Kam?

Kameron: with Katlyn? mostly yeah

Kameron: but you won’t believe this

Morgan: what did you do bitch?

Morgan: if you kicked her ass for being a bitch and I wasn’t there to watch it…

Morgan: I’ll be pissed at you for the next 90 years

Kameron: I just cut her off, but that’s not what I wanted to say

Morgan: ok, you’ll have to give me details

Kameron: later, just read

Morgan: ok, I’m just eyes right now

Kameron is typing

Morgan: …

Morgan: …

Morgan: getting impatient here!

Kameron: I went for a walk after cleaning my room, so I ended at Brianna’s, and you won’t believe this… she’s here!!! Like here, for the fucking career advice week, and I just met her at the high school, and guess who else is here?

Morgan: No way!!!

Kameron: Aquaria Needles herself!!

And in the wink of an eye you used to give me it all

And with a kiss in the darkness you’d deliver the light

As soon as the sent marks get blue, my phone starts ringing. “Hey sis! now you’ve beaten your own mark”, I say to Morgan, who starts rambling.

“Details bitch, I want details. What did she say? Was she mean? Was she with Aquaria?” she sighs on the phone, then keeps talking. “Come on Kameron, talk!”. She sounds both excited and wary, maybe she’s expecting for me to start crying any second now.

“I saw her yesterday, when she was literally turning her back on Aquaria” I say. “Then Aquaria found me and she was nice. She also wanted to know what happened with me and why did I disappeared like I did,” Morgan hums in agreement, waiting for me to keep talking. “She actually was very nice. This morning at the meeting we were having a nice conversation when Brianna showed up.” My voice cracks a little when I say her name.

“Ok, I guess by your tone that things weren’t going smoothly” Morgan says, sounding serious.

“She was nervous, and after the meeting she ran out the classroom. Aquaria and I found her at the restroom. It was awkward, first she literally jumped into my arms. Then she greeted Aquaria and both of them seemed sad.” I sigh and then take a deep breathe. “After that we left the school, and Aquaria drove us to a park in the other side of the city. We were talking for a while… like, a while.”

Morgan hums again, and then speaks. “So, I guess that conversation wasn’t smooth. I know you Kammy, I can hear your head working here, and I’m like thousands of miles away from you girl.” I nod, even when she can’t see me.

“Morgan… Brianna kissed me, and then kissed Aquaria.” She gasps, and clears her throat, giving me chance to put my ideas together. “Then she ran away, again. If you wanna ask if I’m alright, I’m not. I feel confused, and guilty, and horny as fucking hell”, Morgan laughs on that last argument.

Bless all the homecoming queens of the night

They’re looking for magic in gymnasium lights

“So, whose bones you wanna jump?” Morgan knows me like the back of her hand, and she will never turn down a chance to mock me. “Let me guess, you wanna jump Brianna’s bones, just ‘cause that’s what you always want whenever you see her. But you want to jump Aquaria’s bones too, and that’s why you feel guilty”. I nod again, feeling kind of defeated.

“You know I hate you, right?”, she laughs in the other side of the line. “Morgan, this is serious, it’s not ok that I want Aquaria too” I say, starting to get annoyed. “I want Brianna back, if I want that, I can’t get to fuck Aquaria.”

Morgan clears her throat again, soothing her laugh. “Ok baby doll, if you know what you want, then stop overreacting. First of all, you need to talk to Bri, and find out if she wants that too”, once again, she’s right. “Did you get her number at least?”

I slap my forehead, how can I be so stupid? “No, I didn’t”, in the most mature expression of herself, she throws a raspberry to me.  

“Then you know what to do honey. Listen, I have to go right now, I’ll tell mom you’re alright, and the next time I hear from you, you should’ve get her number and asked her out. Am I clear?” I silently nod. “I can’t see you nodding bitch, but I’ll take that silence as a yes. Do what you have to do, and don’t call me until you have something for me.”

In the pit of the night you used to pull me so close

And then you’d hold me so tight

“Alright, I will… Love you Morgaine” I laugh, and she throws another raspberry. We say goodbye and finish the call. It takes a call to Blair, 30 minutes, a home delivery of Panda Express and what was left of my sanity, but I get Brianna’s number. And another half an hour for me to write and rewrite a single message before pushing the send button.

Kameron: Hi Bri… it’s Kameron, how are you?

Then, I waited… and waited, and finally ate the food before my nervousness decided to chew my stomach. I was about to finish my noodles when the telephone finally rang.

Brianna: Hey Kam! I’d usually ask how did you get my number…

Brianna: then I remembered it was you, and you always find a way to find me -blushing emoji-

I can’t help smiling at that message, she’s right, I always find a way to get back to her, but this time I’ll make this is the last time I have to look for her.

Kameron: said like that, makes me look like a stalker jk

Brianna: -smiling emoji- you’re not a stalker, you’re just persistent

Kameron: I’ll take that as a compliment

Brianna: I’ve missed you Kammy…

Kameron: I’ve missed you too Bri…

Brianna: how did this happened?

Kameron: we’re both idiots

Brianna: True… can I?

Kameron: yeah, absolutely

Brianna: your parents’?

Kameron: positive… u comin’?

Brianna: I’m already outside.

I nearly drop the food on my attempt to stand up. I toss the box on the coffee table and jump over it to reach the door. When I open the door, Bri is there, a hand in the pocket of her pixie jeans, hair tied in a pink ribbon and a light blouse that shows the best parts of her curves. She smiles shyly, and I just hold her arm and bring her in.

You’re the one girl I’ll never forget

Somebody bless all these girls and everything that they do

But damn me and curse me for still needing you

[ladyvegeets]

Letting Go - 5 Heavy Breathing

For @tpthvegebulsmutfest

Vegeta shoved the box off the bed, sending the battle armor flying across the floor to lay Bulma in its place. She made for a much better present, and one he was more eager to slip into.

[Read more after the cut, or here on AO3. Ch01 here.]

She clung to him like a drowning thing. For someone with such negligible strength, Bulma did a commendable job of holding on, clutching his face to her own as she taught him how to use his tongue for more than monologues and acerbic remarks. But try as he might, he couldn’t pin her down. Holding her was like trying to hold water, she kept rolling and undulating against him like waves on the sea. It was maddening. 

After long minutes, she broke their kiss, their mouths gasping wetly against each other. Her head dropped back against the pillow. Finally, he was free to take her. Vegeta shoved his hands under her shirt, pushing it up to bare her belly. He bit her tender flesh playfully, laving at her soft, smooth stomach and naval. Bulma squealed, arching back, baring her throat in what he presumed to be submission. The white column of her neck called to him as did her kittenish sounds of distress. His senses heightened, like a predator spotting a wounded animal, Vegeta went in for the kill. He slipped his hands into her hair to hold her still as he mouthed her neck, right at the same time as her clever fingers found his erection. She teased him in the same slowly-cruel way she had in the recovery room when he creamed himself in under three minutes.

“Enough!” he choked, frantically grabbing her wrists. He pushed her arms above her head, glaring at her. Their eyes met, both of them panting hard. Bulma gave in, laying docile in his grip for now.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, looking at him with big blue eyes. Her face was flushed and framed prettily amidst her ocean of curls.

His jaw worked. “Why do you keep moving?”

She blinked, baffled. Then her lips curled up in a slow smile and she dragged her legs over his hips. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He made a frustrated sound, shoving her off. “How can I fuck you when you’re wriggling about so much?”

Her breathless laugh grated on his nerves, her eyes dancing brightly. “I thought we were fucking.”

She was making fun of him. Had to be. How could they be fucking if she was still in her goddamn clothes? The woman was infuriating. Vegeta tightened his fingers about her wrists in annoyance.

Her breathing faltered, a breathless moan falling from her lips. The sweet scent of her arousal permeated the air, making his nostrils flare. Well, wasn’t this familiar. He recalled a similar reaction from her in the recovery room; he had held her down then too. 

She had a weakness.

A warm, triumphant feeling swelled inside Vegeta, the same he felt during battle when victory was imminent. Smirking, he bowed over her, leaning more of his weight against her arms. “We will be fucking, just as soon as you spread your legs for me like a good little bitch.”

Bulma’s eyes darkened, with anger or arousal he couldn’t tell. Didn’t care. Both excited him. 

“I’m no one’s bitch,” she replied, her voice dangerously low. Her legs once again snuck up and looped over his hips. 

He shoved them back down. “You’re sure acting like one.”

“And you’re doing it again.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Doing what?”

“Trying to control the situation.”

He froze, her words a harsh slap to the face. Caught red handed. He was supposed to be losing himself in the moment, not grappling it — her — into submission.

Fuck.

He let her go. Doubts that Vegeta had early pushed aside came back with a vengeance. Unable to look her in the eye, he backed off, sitting on the edge of the bed to collect himself.

A moment later the mattress dipped next to him. He pulled up his knee to shield his flagging manhood from Bulma’s gaze.

“Just for the record,” she said, tugging her shirt down and then rubbing her wrists, “I like you being dominant in bed.” 

“Tch,” he replied, eyeing her hands from the corner of his eyes. Why did she rub them? Had he been too rough? He thought he had held back enough, but humans were so terribly frail.

“The trouble is, you’re still using this too much,” she continued, and she stopped rubbing her wrists to tap him on the brow instead. 

Vegeta tensed, watching as her index finger came right for him. Every fiber of his being stiffened, ready to snap, poised for her attack even though logically he knew she couldn’t hurt him, not by conventional methods. But Bulma wasn’t conventional: she was clever. Who knew what she could do if she put her mind to it? She had survived Namek after all. He couldn’t even say that.

Her finger pressed harmlessly against his forehead. He scowled.

“You’re not letting go. You’re all up here still, aren’t you?”

…Fuck. He really hated how she knew that.

“Easy for you to say,” he grumbled, slapping her hand away, frustrated for more reasons than he cared to think of right now.

“Hey, I’m just trying to help.”

“Help how?!” he demanded, growing more vexed by the second. “All you do is speak in goddamn riddles and play your psychological mind games.”

“Mind games? What are you talking about—”

“Don’t play coy,” he sneered at her. “You’re constantly in my head, hounding me every chance you get, acting friendly, smelling nice, pretending to be on my side. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. I’m not one of your moronic friends you can manipulate. And I’m not some stray pet you can tame like your parents keep either.”

“Vegeta, I’m not—”

He didn’t let her finish, not interested in excuses.

“Forget it,” he snapped, standing up and going over to his drawers to put something on so that he wasn’t the only goddamn one naked in the room. He dug about in his array of useless human clothes she had given him, looking for some kind of appropriate attire. “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking taking your advice. What would you possibly know that could help me? No wonder Kakarot keeps his distance from this infernal place.”

He found a pair of shorts that didn’t offend his sense of fashion.

Something smacked him, hard, in the back of the head. His chest armor hit the floor and rolled to his feet. Vegeta touched his skull for blood, and shot Bulma a murderous glare over his shoulder. That bitch. 

“You dare—”

“You self-serving jerk!” she shouted, her voice alarmingly thick with emotion. She stood by his bed, her hands fisted and trembling at her sides. Her cheeks were hot and her eyes shone dangerously. He had never seen her this upset. “I might not be an expert on fighting, but I do know a thing or two about overthinking and having no one else to confide in. I know all about getting stuck in your own head because the only person you can rely on is yourself, and you start to feel like that’s all there is. But you know what I learned? That there’s strength in working with others, in learning to trust other people, even if they aren’t perfect or it makes you feel vulnerable. Maybe if you pulled your head out of your ass for one friggin’ minute, you could see that!”

Vegeta stood in the wake of her outburst, stunned, the clothing in his hand falling back in the drawer, all but forgotten.

When he didn’t respond, Bulma made a frustrated sound and turned from him, heading for the door. 

Where the hell was she going? 

What the hell had she been screaming about?

What the hell was happening?

Deeply unsatisfied with the turn of events and his inability to respond appropriately, Vegeta beat her to the door, slamming it closed just as she started to pull it open. Nobody hit him and got away with it, and he certainly wasn’t going to let her leave with the last word, not without him at least understanding what the fuck they were arguing about. He kept his hand on the door to block her exit.

“We’re not done here,” he growled.

“Well I am!” she said, tugging uselessly on the door handle. He might have laughed at her feeble attempt if she didn’t sound so upset. She kept her head ducked down, hiding behind her bangs. “I have more important things to do than to stroke your ego,” she spat, her insinuation heavy enough that he blushed. Damn, he wished he had put those shorts on.

“I’m not talking about that,” he snapped. He tried to lean in to look at her, but Bulma turned her face away. It surprised him. She never backed down from a staring match. “I don’t need you for that.”

Bulma stopped tugging on the handle. Slowly, she bowed over it, crumpling up like burnt paper. She let out a strange, strangled laugh. It was weak and hollow, and Vegeta had the uncomfortable feeling she wasn’t actually amused. 

“N-no, why would you n-need me for sex?” she asked, her voice so broken he could barely make out her words. “Why would a-anyone need me for a-anything? Let’s all just u-use Bulma when it’s convenient, and l-leave her behind when it’s not!”

Oh no.

She was crying?

Stunned, Vegeta stood helplessly by and watched her sob over the handle. 

Holy shit. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t leave, she was standing in front of the exit. He could take the balcony window but that felt too cowardly. Besides, this was his room.

“Bulma,” he said.

She kept crying, her heavy breathing hitching between sobs.

“Bulma,” he tried again, a little louder this time. “I… don’t know what the appropriate Earth custom is in this situation.”

“Y-you can s-suck a dick,” she sobbed.

“I fail to see how that—”

“O-oh my god, Vegeta, i-it’s called sarcasm.”

She continued crying, and Vegeta decided the best course of action was to let her.

After several minutes of heart-wrenching tears, Bulma finally calmed down. She wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeve, then peered balefully at him from over her shoulder.

“You’re still naked,” she croaked.

“Good observational skills,” he drawled. “Perhaps while you’re in the enlightening mood, you would like to tell me what this is all about?”

She glanced away, wiping at her eyes some more. 

“Nothing. I’m just surrounded by assholes.” She looked at him again, wincing. “Metaphorically and literally. Could you please put something on? You’re very…” she waved a hand at his physique, “distracting.”

He grunted and left her to fetch his shorts. He pulled them on as Bulma curled up in his armchair, tucking her knees under her chin and looking generally miserable. He glanced around and finally decided to sit on the coffee table opposite her.

“Well?” he prodded.

She huffed, the air puffing up her bangs. “You struck a nerve, is all. Don’t let it go to your ego.”

“According to you, my ego’s already at capacity. I think you’re safe.”

She smiled. It was a weak, fragile thing, but a smile nonetheless. He wasn’t prepared to admit how relieved he was to see it.

“You humans are too sensitive, too emotional,” he lectured her in the kindest voice he could muster. “You need to be more like us. Crush your feelings like you would your enemies. They will only hurt you.”

Bulma arched a skeptical brow. “Wow, how barbaric.”

“It is the warrior way.”

“I’m honestly surprised hearing all that from you.”

“Me?” he asked, frowning. He was a paradigm of Saiyan stoicism.

“Yes. I mean, take Son. He’s always been so carefree, you know? Hardly ever gets angry or sad or jealous. Emotionally, he’s neutral. But you? Jeez, Vegeta, you’re a hornets nest of emotion. One poke, and all hell breaks loose. Sure, it’s mostly anger, but still. You can’t feel anger unless you feel something. Same for depression.”

His eyes narrowed. “Who said I was depressed?”

Bulma shrugged. “I do, I guess.”

“Tch. You are delusional.”

“Pot, meet kettle.”

“What?” he asked, truly baffled now.

Bulma sighed, shaking her head. “Earth expression. Never mind.”

They both lapsed into silence. 

Vegeta bristled with indignation. It was irksome to think she had been watching him and jumping to ridiculous conclusions about his mental state. Didn’t she have anything better to do?

As far as he knew, she did. From what he could tell she worked nearly as much as he did, toiling away in her lab while he labored in the gravity room day after day. And when that didn’t satisfy, surely there were other people that she could pester? Like the Namekians, there were dozens of those bastards… well, had been. Vegeta frowned, realizing it had been months now, maybe even a year since they left. Okay, forget the Namekians. She had her parents. Not that they were around much, and when they were their conversations were limited to social niceties and scientific research. Not exactly riveting. So that just left Bulma with Kakarot’s little group of idiots. At least they could prove amusing, in the same way it was amusing to watch ants scatter from strategically placed ki blasts. What were their names again? Vegeta struggled to recall, he hadn’t heard their names in months, much less seen their faces, not even Scar-face who had been sniffing around her… 

Oh.

Vegeta’s head jerked up, looking at Bulma with large eyes.

She was just as alone as he was. Only, she hid it better. Or maybe she didn’t but he was too self centered to notice before now because when did he ever think of anyone besides himself? It never crossed his mind that the only social interaction she might get was with him. Every word she spoke, every smile she gave him hadn’t been some trick but an attempt to connect with him, to ease that all consuming emptiness he knew too well: loneliness.

“What?” she grumbled, her fingers toying with the hem of her pants. “You look like you swallowed a fly.”

Vegeta hesitated. What should he say, if he should say anything at all? This was clearly a touchy subject, a matter of her pride (that, he could understand), and he had accidentally rubbed salt in her wound. Normally, that would please him but not now, not with her. Whatever this was that they had going on, this weird symbiotic relationship, Vegeta didn’t want it ruined. Not because of any sappy sentimentality; he was no idiot. He needed her for pragmatic reasons. She was good at fixing things, and he was a broken weapon. 

“I don’t… distrust you,” he admitted.

Bulma blinked up at him, frowning, trying to puzzle out this sudden confession. “What?”

Feeling oddly self-conscious, Vegeta looked down at his hands. It was ingrained in his DNA to trust no one, but as far as his trust scale went (from As bad as Frieza, to, I’ll kill you last), Bulma ranked pretty highly. 

“You were saying something about learning to trust people,” he grumbled by way of explanation.

Bulma let out a wry sound. “Ah. Given up on the idea that I’m trying to poison you?”

“Well, if you mean to, you’re taking your damn time about it.”

“Believe me, it’s a daily temptation,” she drawled, giving him a lopsided smile. “Maybe I’m poisoning you slowly, a little bit each day?”

He smirked back. “No, I don’t think poison is your style.”

“No?”

“No. You’re more Saiyan than that.”

“Me?” she asked, stunned by his compliment.

Vegeta’s smirk grew. “Yes. You’re far more direct. And violent. You wanted to kill the androids at the source. You socialize with fighters. You even resort to violence yourself,” he said, glancing over to where his chest plate rested on the floor. 

Her gaze followed his, her lips curling up at the memory of hitting him.

“And,” he added, leaning forward, his voice dipping lower. He braced his arms on her chair, trapping her between it and him. “You go right for what you want. Without mercy.”

It pleased him to see her pupils dilate at his proximity. 

“That’s being Saiyan?” she asked, not backing away. They watched each other, like two predators circling, waiting for some unspoken signal to pounce.

“Very,” he purred. 

They continued reading each other. Her eyes were still pink from crying, but Vegeta could see the wheels of her mind in motion, calculating, weighing options, assessing him. Did she dare give him another chance?

“So, what do you want, Vegeta?” she asked, her voice laced with suggestion, the question curling around him.

That warm, triumphant feeling of victory once again swelled inside.

He grabbed the arms of her chair and pulled. The legs squealed as he yanked her closer. She gasped in alarm, her eyes going wide as he brought her close enough for their knees to press together and their noses to touch. He snatched her up by her tiny waist and pulled her against him.

“I want to be a Super Saiyan,” he growled, his words bristling with his hunger. He could taste the transformation. It felt ever present, looming ethereally in the back of his mind, like a figure in his peripheral vision that vanished when looked at directly. He would do anything to claim it, even if it meant claiming her. Especially if it did.

“Is that all?” she asked, so quiet he thought he had imagined her speak. Her hands splayed on his chest, the last vestige of her resistance. 

Was that all? They both knew what she meant: did he want her? He did, he could admit that now, but was it because she could help him attain his goal, or because there was something compelling about her? 

Vegeta raised a hand, fingering a soft blue curl, trying to puzzle her out. Her hair slipped against his rough skin like silk. He pressed on it, flattening the curl in his grip, but the moment he let it go, it sprang back to life. So much like its owner. She was like no one he had ever known, or rather, bothered to get to know. Most people he held this close would be filling the air with death pleas, not pheromones of desire.

He nuzzled her cheek to better inhale her smell, and a tremor of want shuddered through him, pooling in his cock. Her breathing was quickening, and he heard her whimper as one hand slipped under the back of her shirt. He used the other to caress her face, brushing his thumb against her cheek and down her slender throat, ghosting over her pulse. There, a mark from his mouth colored her skin. Something possessive curled in his gut.

No, he couldn’t say why he wanted her. Self-honesty wasn’t his strong suit. But whatever the motivation was, he did want her. Now.

Wrapping his fingers about the back of her neck, Vegeta pulled her mouth against his. “I want to learn to let go, inside of you,” he confessed hotly.

Bulma’s lips trembled, her arms caving, giving in. “What makes you think you can?”

“Because I don’t stop until I’ve mastered a technique.”

 ~xox~

 AN: Sorry for the delay on this prompt. On top of life stuff, I ended up re-writing this three times, so it took longer than anticipated. Hope it was worth the wait tho. Thanks to stupidoomdoodles for some detailed encouragement ^_^

[callejxro]

xiii. si vivir sin ti es...

Chess stroked his hair back, a scowl on his face. Annoyed, read the most visible emotion on his face. Though not the only emotion.

What a pain…, he thought, looking upon the other.

Wasn’t so tall, he was probably a couple inches shorter than the werewolf. He wore a black suit, one that would have been almost stereotypical in the sorts of programs that were all about top secret FBI, CIA agents and something to do with aliens. The strangest thing would have been how the man poised himself in such a professional stance when his face was rather boyish, making him look like a kid playing dress-up more than anything. It would have been the strangest thing, had it not been for his hair–the color of it, to be more precise. Chess thought to comment on it.

“Nice hair. Did you dye it yourself?” A smile, one that the more observant person would notice was more nervous than was usual for the werewolf.

“…” The other man simply stared, his face not betraying any emotions. After a while, he answered simply, “No. It’s natural.”

“Natural, you say?! Interesting. Y’know, in old Egyptian myths, blue hair was supposed to be something sacred. Also, Buddha is said to have blue hair. Homer used to write that characters who went through serious emotional turmoil had their hair turn blue,” at this, the other man’s hand twitched slightly, Chess took mental note of the action, “and some gods were depicted with blue hair. It was a sign of divinity.” Chess clicked his tongue a few times in thought. “Does that make you a god?” he jokingly asked.

“I’m not here to talk,” responded the other man. That was true--the first action the other man had taken was to try bashing his head, but he’d dodged in time. The other man was here for a fight. Chess had encountered countless others who’d tried to do the same, and he’d offed every single one who tried without the slightest hesitation, but this man…this man unnerved him deeply.

“Then...what are you here for?” He swallowed--unease finally showing itself.

“I’m here to kill you,” said plainly, without any hint of an emotion behind it all. It’s as if he was only talking business.

“Hah! Why? I’ve done nothing bad to you, have I? I don’t have beef with you, so fu–”

“I was hired to do this.” The man reached into his jacket and pulled out a chocolate kiss, to the werewolf’s confusion. He quickly ate it, his eyes still fixed on him. He spoke after he finished, “You’ve been a target for the local authorities claiming that you were out massacring people. A monster who only knows slaughter, no one able to do you in, or something to that effect.” The emotionless tone the man spoke in infuriated Chess.

“Is that it? You’re just here for a bounty? And you’re talking to me about how I’m some killer? I was hired for those kills, just like you are now! I only killed criminals, even! I made sure they were all criminals! I’m not the bad guy!” Chess’ eyes widened in offended anger, his fists were balled into white-knuckled fists.

“To yourself. To someone else, you very well are,” was the man’s response. The way he spoke that line, it felt like there was a touch of regret in it. “…There’s no use trying to justify murder. The moment you take a life is the moment you have committed a grave atrocity.” Chess snarled. Was that a pun? “The moment you take a life is also the moment you resign that you are willing to die, as well. You can say it’s for an end, but that is a mean that will never be justified. Even if the end is utopia, the weight stays within you.” The man finished.

“Uh-huh…” Chess was impressed that the man was actually capable of saying so many words consecutively. “So are you here to kill me or wax philosophical? Too bad for you, I’m not letting you. I’ve got some shit I need to do first, so we’re going to have to reschedule. No sad little human will--”

“I’m not human.” A solid interruption. Not a single bit of trepidation in the statement. So strongly said, it stopped a wide-eyed Chess. “You asked if I was a god. The truth is I’m not. Far from it. ...But I’ve been given names that center around similar figures. One of them was ‘Calaca’, shortened from ‘Calavera’.”

It took Chess no less than a second to realize what that meant. In that one second, his brash anger was washed away in a sea of desperation that flooded his soul. His fingers shook, and his arms unconsciously began their transformation. The pit of his stomach knotted up. “Th-Then you’re…”

“Tell me…” The man spoke out again suddenly, causing Chess to flinch. “How many times should an angel fall?”

At those words, Chess lunged forward. He tried to get the upper hand through surprise, but the swipe of his right arm was countered so easily. Calaca had grabbed his right arm and threw him down to the ground by the throat, twisting his right arm in a hold, the sound of bone breaking was evident. Chess howled in pain, struggling to jump back up.

Calaca simply stood in place watching him. Hazel eyes that gleamed so beautiful in the light. A face that looked so lovely, so innocent. There was a gentle beauty in his gaze, an understanding pain that glowed a reflected moonlight. Chess almost hesitated, but only almost.

“Uooooooooooooooooooooomu!” He let out a roar, and quickly instinct drove him to a response to fight. Calaca was caught off guard, and quickly did Chess’ left hand swing and claws dug and teeth sunk into every bit of flesh it could, a frantic murdering mess. He no longer had anything in mind other than ‘kill’.

‘This scent! This smell of marigold!’ he thought, ‘This being is the evil one! Kill kill kill! I’ll stop his scent!’ His hand dug deeply into Calaca’s throat, suddenly slamming the man into the ground. Blood had sprayed everywhere, there were clawing marks in the walls surrounding them. 

With heavy breaths, Chess soon succumbed to the exhaustion, his form returned to fully human. His chest rose and fell rapidly, erratically. 

“Hah… hah… hah… See? Just a human…” An uneven smile as he attempted to stand up to his full height. The fracture in his right arm finally healed--the adrenaline numbing the pain a good bit. He collapsed to sitting on the ground, his breathing slowly returning to a normal pace.

“So you really were a werewolf? They really exist?”

Chess froze. It was as if all the sensation of burning excursion were replaced by an icy chill, stifling all feeling of relief. He looked up to see the man who just seconds ago should have been killed, yet every single injury Chess had inflicted had practically disappeared, and he stood there like nothing had happened.

“Ha… Haha…” When faced with a situation such as this, Chess always remembered the sight of that full moon grinning down at him. A full moon like a smiling skull. All he could do in those situations was laugh at the complete desolation that enveloped his being. “Hahahahahahahahahahahaha! Ahhh! Come on, man! Just what the fuck are you?”

Calaca threw a punch, aiming straight for Chess’ head. Chess jumped away in time, the man’s fist slamming against a wall instead. The entire brick wall crumbled away like paper. Chess realized: now was the moment to run away. So he fled, and he was chased.

Somehow, the other man kept up even as Chess was in the middle of transformation. Into the woods he went, hoping to lose him. No such luck. No matter where he turned, no matter how high he climbed or how far he thought he’d distanced himself, the man always appeared next to him a moment after.

The predator soon began to lose hope, and in a moment of hesitation, the hunter was easily able to crush him.

A small struggle commenced, one where Calaca easily countered every single hit Chess tried to hit him with, being able to toss him around so easily. A swept leg, a twisted arm, a broken clavicle, a bruised rib. Every single hit carried with it a weight that felt like a sledgehammer was brought down on his body.

The man landed a fist to his head, causing Chess to reel back. Another hit to the same spot, and he howled in desperate pain. A hit to his jaw next, and the werewolf bit his own tongue. Another cry of pain, and he tripped backwards.

He could taste oxidation, his head spinning and breaking. He tripped away, backing off as far as he could until disorientation rooted him to the same spot. His head burned in a swimming nausea, and bile rushed from his stomach out. He didn’t realize what had happened.

Between the pain, he realized that a part of his skull had been caved in. Chess looked around at the spinning world surrounding him, until his eyes set upon a clearing blooming of flowers. He had wandered through the pain here.

“Aaaa… A…… Ar………Am.......Ah................” Chess tried to keep himself upright, and  Calaca paused to watch him try. Was he hoping to give him a fair chance? Foolish. Foolish. Blood… Blood. Is that mine? Mine. Mine. Aaaaaah, fuck. Chess found he was losing his mind.

“Uuuu…. Uuuuuuuu…” He tried to stand straight, but his head burned. A cold feeling of hell.

“…nder……” He twitched between two forms, fading as he remained human.

“U…nder the harvest moon…” Chess began to recite, and Calaca stood still, looking puzzled.

“Wheeen the soft si…lver… Drip…s shimmering Over the garden nights, Death, the gray…mocker, Comes and whispers to you Aaaas a beautiful friend Who remembers.”

He tripped and fell to his knee, his strength completely drained. Calaca approached closer, peering down at him.

“Under the summer roses When the flagrant crimson Lurks in the dusk Of the wild red leaves, Love, with little hands, Comes and touches…you With a thousand memories, AaAaaAnd asks you…”

“Beautiful, unanswerable questions,” Calaca finished the sonnet. He stared at Chess, whose breathing was becoming uneven and blood spilling from his mouth. “Under the harvest moon. Sandburg. Right?”

“Yes…” He ran his hand through his hair, and looked at his palm to see blood streaking paler skin. “You’re...pretty cute, ac...tually.... I… regret… not knowing you some different way…” His hand twitched up, and he motioned for Calaca to help him stand from where he was kneeling. Calaca didn’t do so.

“…Funny. All I wanted…was…not to be alone and… I didn’t want to at first…kill… But when I...I hurt him...hurt her...I realized it...was too late...I couldn’t go back...” Calaca’s gaze fell, and something clicked. The werewolf had been crying. Chess tried to continue speaking through ragged, weak breaths. “Just a monster. To humans…want…to live…please…”

“I can’t grant that wish.” Calaca’s eyes turned to the flowers surrounding them. Amaranths. They’re not supposed to grow in such a low place. “I can’t do anything to help you, after all. It’s almost a curse. I can almost sympathize with you, even though I’m here to kill you. All kinds of funny, isn’t it?” A soft, gentle smile formed on Calaca’s lips, and Chess gasped out. He really was beautiful. 

“I’m sorry.” Calaca’s smile faded away. Chess’ heart broke.

Finally, his legs gave out and he fell on his back. His breathing fell to a crawling pace, his heart’s thumping only weakened to a soft drum. “You know…all I wanted…was a home to return to…after long…weary…... Someone to.........” A pause. “I wanted...to be an engineer. What’s your name…?”

“…I don’t know. But I had a dream to own a ship model store. I understand not being able to go back. Within our natures, we change. You must be tired.” Calaca tried to give a comforting smile once more, but it fell just short.

“I want...to return...” Chess tried to articulate a lifetime’s feeling of loss and regret, but it fell just short.

Blue hair swept in the wind as the man kneeled down next to Chess, a knife in his hand. Calaca recited to Chess, barely above a whisper:

“Art thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth, Wandering companionless Among the stars that have a different birth, - And ever changing, like a joyless eye That finds no object worth its constancy?”

As his world began to grow dark, Chess smiled once more. “To The Moon. Shelley… I always…hated that one. Afraid of it…didn’t know why…

“But…

“Now…”

With the twist of the knife, everything went black.

[kpopyourcherryy]

Mayday - vi

Genre; horror/mystery 

Length; 2,900+ words

Warning(s); violence, abuse (physical, verbal, emotional), kidnap 

Y/n’s p.o.v. 

The last thing you remember when you finally woke up was hearing Jaebum’s and Youngjae’s voice, and screaming for help until you heard the sound of the front door closing once again; then tears streaming down your face when he entered the room. His words, “Let’s get you home..” ran through your head as hiss hand viciously came down on you thrice more before you were finally out again.

Your eyes began to slowly open once again, the hazy filter made it hard for you to make out exactly where you were- it felt like a dream... your head hurt, your face and entire right side felt bruised and achy. “Wh- Where am I?...” You asked that dreadfully cliche question as he you rubbed your eyes, sitting yourself up. That’s when you suddenly felt it, the cool leather fabric that was wrapped around your neck and the icy, heavy chain that hung from it. Bringing your hands up to your neck, you felt the heavy duty collar, “What the fu-” Your voice trailed off as your eyes finally noticed the heavy chain that was basically bolted into the wall. 

Your blood ran cold when you heard footsteps coming from the hall way behind you. Immediately, you backed up against the wall; pressing against it as if you hope it could somehow protect you from him. “Are you awake,y/n?” Jackson calmly asked as he walked out in front of you. 

“I- I wanna go home..” You whimpered, tears began forming in the corners of your eyes. You looked around the room once again- the walls were empty and painted a dingy grey color that made the whole place look sickly- there were no windows, so you didn’t even know what time it was; whether it was day or night. “Please.. I won’t tell anyone- I just want to go--” 

Before you could finish your sentence, Jackson landed a harsh open-hand slap across your bruised cheek. He then crouched down in front of you, gently cupping your abused flesh in his large hands; forcing your gaze back up at him. A wide, toothy smile sprawled across his face as he motioned around the near empty room, “This is home now, y/n.” He replied, then playfully bounced the chain attached to your collar, “If you’re a good girl, this will come off okay? It’s only there now for cautionary purposes..” His playful demeanor suddenly changed as he finished his spine chilling sentence. 

“Caution- Cautionary purposes?” You timidly stuttered, but your question seemed to only agitate him as he roughly wrapped his hand around your through; squeezing only to slightly cut off your air. Your hands immediately shot up to his forearm, clawing at it as he pressed harder on your throat. “Ja- “ You gasped, the lack of air brought tears to your eyes as your face reddened, “Stop- St-”  Before you could continue your weak attempts to form words, Jackson eased up on you. The fresh air burned as it rushed into your lungs causing to you to weakly cough while you steadied your breathing. 

You peered up at Jackson with your teary, frightened gaze only to be met with his dull, nightmarish stare. The older man leaned down, his face only a couple inches away from yours, “You’ll NEVER be able to leave me again, y/n.” He snarled, lifting his upper lip like a dangerous wild animal, “I won’t allow it- I’ll kill you before you leave me for him again..” 

At first your mind didn’t really register what he said, but once it kicked in; you just sat there, staring down at your hands as tears furiously streamed down your cheeks. 

Just as Jackson was about to speak again, the sound of his text tone rang through your ears- it was an oddly calming, yet cheery song that simultaneously haunted you. How could someone so awful- so sick and deranged, display themselves as this gently, kind-hearted person?

Jackson’s p.o.v. 

Standing from his spot in front of you, he replied to Mark; who’s texts sounded so desperate and fearful. 

Through his peripheral vision he could see the curiosity that painted itself on your face. He turned his attention back to you, grinning as he practically waved his phone in your face, “What, y/n?” He asked in a smooth, intimidating yet playful tone, “You wanna know it is?” Pausing for a moment, waiting for your response that never came, he cleared his throat as he unlocked his phone once more. 

“Well, I’ll tell you anyways.” He replied to himself, holding the phone in front of your face; allowing you to read the texts, “It’s your precious boyfriend..” He scoffed, rolling his eyes as a ghoulish giggle flowed out of him.  Scrolling up, he allowed you to read the most recent messages, “Look how worried he is, y/n.” He chuckled, seeing the man he despised so distressed brought nothing but joy to him. 

Y/n’s p.o.v. 

You sat there reading and rereading Mark’s frantic messages to the man who was causing the worry to happen in the first place.  Tears continued to flow down your cheeks like rivers as your blood boiled. 

Looking at a giggling Jackson, you shook your head in complete disgust.  This couldn’t be the same man you once were proud to call your best friend. How could it be? 

“You’re disgusting..” You softly uttered out, your insult immediately quieted his laughter. 

He tilted his head slightly, scoffing in disbelief, “What the fuck did you just say?” 

“I said-” You replied as you propped yourself up onto your knees, “You’re fucking d i s g u s t i n g. You’re fake as fuck. Just wait until Mar-” Cutting you off before you could continue, Jackson landed several vicious slaps across your bruised face, then roughly slammed you against the wall behind you. 

“Shut the fuck up!” He shouted as he slapped you once more, “You stupid selfish bitch! You talk so highly about him like he’s some sort of super hero, but is he out looking for you like the others were?” He brutishly growled as he knocked you down onto the could tiled floor, “You know what he’s doing instead of looking for you? He’s sitting there sulking, waiting for me to take him fucking booze so he can gain the courage to text some other whore to keep him company while you’re gone.” 

The unbelievable pain you felt from his harsh blows and being so carelessly man handled was almost nothing compare to the stinging words that freely flowed from his mouth- drawing out a shaky cry as you wished for it all to be over. 

Suddenly, with one swift movement, he was on top of you; pressing his heavy, muscular body against you like a predator would do it’s prey. “He doesn’t love you, y/n..” He spoke in a smooth, low snarl, “Not like I do at least..” 

You practically trembled beneath him as he stayed there on top of you.  He suddenly wrapped one of his hands around your throat again, cutting of your air for the second time as his eyes loomed over your helpless, fragile body. 

“Don’t test my patience, y/n..” He lowly growled his warning, then roughly pressed his lips against yours. As he broke the sudden kiss, he took your lower lip between his teeth- gently nibbling it, just before he leaned down and whispered, “Mark’s not coming to save you, y/n.. Don’t make me hurt you anymore princess..” 

Nothing but a fearful whimper escaped your lips as he released his grip around your neck, standing from his position. You watched as he pulled out his phone again, “I’ll be back tomorrow, my pet. Your boyfriend wants me home already.” He cruelly stated while turning his back towards you, smugly chuckling as he heard the sound of your faint sniffles. “Be a good, quiet girl for me while I’m gone, okay?” Turning back only slightly, flashing you that pompous, toothy smile of his. 

You watched him walk away, disappearing into the hallway that he first appeared from, but then popping back out minutes later.  “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you..” He cheerfully began though his eyes were still cold and emotionless, “Don’t even try to escape, y/n. That chain is the strongest I could find, and your collar..” Pointing at the leather that snugly wrapped around your throat, “Is tough to cut, even with scissors- plus it locks from the back.” 

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you watched his wave bye, then disappear into the hallway. Seconds later, the sound of a heavy door slamming shut rang throughout the room. 

Was this really your life now? Were you going to have to spend the rest of your days practically walking on eggshells, shackled to this dingy wall- with an unpredictable maniac?  These questions ran through your mind as you curled up into the tightest ball you could manage, you laid there sobbing until you eventually fell asleep- your dreams were the only way you could escape now, even if it was only for a little. 

Mark’s p.o.v. 

Mark sat there agitated and worried sick.  Where could you be? Why did you leave your bag and phone behind, you’d never leave anywhere without them- so why did you now? Standing from his seat on the couch, he began frantically pacing back and forth as tears formed in the corners of eyes. 

“Hyung..” He heard Yugyeom softly call out to him as he entered the living room. “I just got off the phone with y/n’s mom, she- she hasn’t from her since she left for work this morning..” 

Just hearing the younger mans regretful statement brought him to his knees, though it hadn’t even been a full day that you had gone missing; the fear he felt was indescribable. “Fu-Fuck.. “ He sighed as the tears he attempted to hold back rolled down his cheeks. 

Yugyeom sunk down to the floor beside him, “Hyung.. It’s going to be okay..” He spoke in a hushed, comforting tone while rubbing his back, “We’ll find-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the sound of the front door opening caused Mark to shoot up. “Y/n!?” He called out, running over to the entrance of the dorm. But the moment he saw Jackson standing there, removing his shoes while holding the case of beer he requested- his heart sank.  “I can’t just sit here and do nothing anymore..” Mark suddenly said, as he hastily began walking around the living room; gathering his things. “I- I need to go find her.. She wasn’t feeling good when she was coming home, and there’s supposed to be a storm tonight.” He frantically explained as he searched high and low for his car keys, “She’ll get sick if she’s out in the rain, plus she’s scared of thunder..” 

“No- Hyung, don’t do that.” Jackson replied, offering his hyung a comforting smile as he grabbed his belongings, tossing them on to the couch. “You won’t get anything accomplished if you’re anxious like this.” The younger man smoothly explained while wrapping his arm around Mark’s shoulders. “Look just sit down, have a drink and tomorrow we can all go looking for her- and if she’s not home by then, we can go to the cops.” 

Jinyoung strutted into the room almost out of no where. “Mark.. I kind of hate to admit it but Jackson’s right..” 

Mark nodded, wiping the tears from his eyes, “Yeah I know..” He replied, nodding as he wiped his nose and sniffled, “I know- but just the thought of her out there alone, possibly in danger horrifies me.” 

Jackson pulled him down to the spot on the couch beside him then opened the case- handing him a can, “Here- this will help calm you down.” He said softly, pulling out another and handing it to Yugyeom, then another and offering it to Jinyoung; who politely refused. 

“Jackson..” He suddenly said while taking the drink from him, “You were the only one here during the time y/n went missing..” The loud crack from each of the boys opening their cans filled the room for a second, “Are you sure you didn’t hear or see anything weird?” 

“Yeah..” Jinyoung suddenly cut in while seating himself beside Yugyeom, “Youngjae was telling me you said you heard her talking to her sister or someone over the phone.”  Jackson silently nodded as he took a sip of his beer.  “But..” He continued, showing obvious signs of suspicion, “When Jaebum talked with her, she said she hadn’t spoke with her since ten o’clock this morning..” 

“Well..” Jackson shrugged, taking another calm sip, “I was half asleep when I heard her talking to someone, so I could’ve misinterpreted the whole thing..” He then leaned his head against Mark’s shoulder, “I feel like this is my fault..” 

Mark finally took his first sip, sniffling and clearing his throat afterward. “Why do you say that?” 

“Because..” Jackson pouted, tears welled up in the corners of his eyes, “I should’ve paid more attention, if I had-” He sniffled as tears rolled down his face. “if I had, she’d already be home and none of you would be so worried..” 

Yugyeom scooted closer to his hung, patting his thigh as he attempted to comfort him as well, “It’s not your fault, Jackson-hyung..” He soothingly replied, “There’s no way you could’ve know this would happen..”  

As Jackson sat there sobbing, Youngjae and Jaebum finally came out of there room. “Yah! Why are y’all drinking?” Jaebum asked, taking the open cans away from each of the men. 

“We should be either going out to look for y/n, or resting so we can go out and look for her tomorrow.” Youngjae added, shaking his head at his friends, “Drinking isn’t going to solve anything.” 

“I know, I know..” Mark replied, sighing while wiping his eyes as he stood from his seat, “I- I’m going to bed... Goodnight..” He said with a soft wave then disappeared down the hall. 

Jackson’s p.o.v. 

Taking another, larger gulp of his drink; Jackson sniffled, wiping the remaining tears off his face with the back of his hand. “I feel so bad..” 

“If you felt bad you would’ve paid more attention to her..” Youngjae scoffed, rolling his eyes at his hyung’s act. “So stop with those fake ass tears..” 

“Fake ass tears?” Jackson slightly shouted, tilting his head as he stood from his seat glaring at the younger man. His hands balled up in fists as he stepped closer to him, “Says the one who constantly teased her, maybe you should stop acting like you even give a shit, Youngjae- you were so mean to her after all.”

Youngjae called his bluff, stepping up to the plate as he practically stared down his hyung, “Mean to her? Teased her? She was like my sister you oblivious piece of shit.” He snarled, mentally preparing to fight the older man. 

Jae and Jinyoung finally stepped in, separating the two men, “Yah!” Jinyoung shouted, the commotion finally drawing BamBam out of his room. 

Rushing out into the living room Bam stood between Youngjae and Jackson, attempting to play peacemaker, “Guys.. Come one, please don’t fight..” He weakly pleaded, “We can’t just fall apart like this.. We all need to be strong- not only for Mark, but for y/n. Do you think she’d want to see us like this.” 

Immediately Youngjae nodded, relaxing as he backed off. Shaking his head, the younger man let out an exasperated sigh, “Whatever, do whatever the fuck you guys want- I really don’t care anymore.” He finally said, shooting Jackson a dirty look. “I’m going to bed, I’m going to cops tomorrow.” 

Jinyoung and Jaebum finally relaxing, both men plopped down onto the couch, “Yugyeom..” Jinyoung softly said as he rubbed his temples, “You and Bam should go to your room already..” 

The maknaes nodded in agreement, putting up no fight then walked down the hall together- whispering to one another, probably about how quickly the situation escalated. 

Turning to Jae and Jinyoung, Jackson began apologizing profusely, “Im so sorry- I didn’t mean to let the situation escalate so much..” He said softly, his head hung low as he pretend to feel over bad about everything that has happened, “This is all my fault..” 

The two men sat there, shaking there head.  “Yah, Jackson..” Jae finally said breaking the short silence, “Just go get some rest, we have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow..” 

Jackson nodded, combing his fingers through his brunette hair. Standing from his spot, he began making his way to his room, but turned back for a moment, “You two should get some rest, too.. Don’t stay up to late..”  Both men nodded, then wished him goodnight as he walked to his room. 

Once there, hushed giggles flowed out of him. “God there all so fucking stupid..” He whispered to himself while stretching out his arms. Walking over to his bed, he plopped himself down onto the mattress; a smug grin painted on his face- silently patting himself on the back for his acting.  The loud roar of thunder rang throughout his room as the rapid pitter patter of the rain hit his window, suddenly he remembered what Mark said- She’s scared of thunder.. - his lip stay curled up in that twisted grin as he imagined how terrified you must be. God did he wish he could see you right now; you look so pretty when you’re scared. 

To Be Continued..

[ecotone99]

[TH][HR] The Collector

“You know, this might be the first time I’ve seen you with a book in front of your eyes.”, he reluctantly teased his brother. A futile attempt at fighting his lethargy that’s been plaguing Ben for decades now. As usual, Caleb left him out in the rain, letting his dead eyes apathetically float over the lines. He honestly didn’t know why he bothered trying. He’s always been like this. Not depressed, just annoyingly unresponsive and quiet, it seemed. That’s why you couldn’t really tell how he coped with it when their younger brother died. Every now and then he spoke, though. Out of convenience, out of necessity. Sometimes, to get him something he wanted, he had to let out a few, rare words. Like when Adrian died and he said: “I liked him.” at the funeral. He still remembers the medium purple color of the shirt he wore the last time he saw him alive. It was like lavender. Childhood therapists told their parents that it’s not a condition and is likely going to pass growing up. It never did, obviously. “Live and let live, I guess.”, he murmured to himself.

Ben stood up, put his dishes in the dishwasher and whistled for the dog. One of the amenities of living with his silent brother in the home they inherited from their passed parents was his cleanliness. You’d be hard-pressed to ever find a droplet of milk or a paw print in there. Not unless you stood right next to it when it came to exist. One of the many absurd consequences of that cliche spleen were Milo’s indoor dog shoes. A pair for inside, a pair for outside. No dirt ever entered this house, no bug ever dared trying to. Ben was lost in thought for a moment before he noticed Milo’s panting. “There you are. Good boy.”, he said while rewarding him with a few strokes. “Let’s go.” He leashed him, covered his paws with the tiny, white-colored boots, opened the door and…

“I’m going out. I met someone.”, he believed to have heard from the kitchen. It wasn’t hard to believe that Caleb didn’t really have any friends other than his brother, given his peculiarity. Nonetheless, he sometimes had these phases, where he seems to have made a meaningful connection to other slightly weird people. “Well hopefully it lasts this time.”, Ben replied loudly after some seconds of rumination before finally leaving the house.

1 hour later

“He’s out today, meeting someone apparently. You can come over if you want. I’ll cook you something nice and then we can have a good time.”, he lured her. She chuckled. “Sure. Let’s have a good time. I can be there in an hour.” “Great. I’m sick of being stuck in the house today.”, he complained. She tempted him with “Who said anything about leaving the house.”, said bye and hung up. Although the danger of uncleanliness putting off his date in this house is rather tiny, he obeyed his paranoia, got up and hysterically scanned the house for any imperfections. Caleb’s perfectionism rubbed off on him.

I think I’m gonna make her Lasagna. Cara seemed to like it. But Cara basically ghosted me. Maybe she was polite and faked it, just like she probably did with the orgasm. Not Lasagna. I think there are still some eggs and cheese in the fridge. Maybe simple Carbonara will do. No, I got it. I’m gonna make that potato casserole that I did last month. Everybody liked that one.

As he walked by Caleb’s room just as he finished ruminating about what to cook he noticed that the door was left open. If it were any other person, this would have obviously not been anything abnormal. But Caleb? He never does little normal things like that. Ever. But maybe he was just too absorbed in that book. He read it all day long. Maybe it was just that good. At least good for him. Good for someone like him. As Ben closed the door he noticed a price tag got stuck in it. He picked it up. It said “The Collector”.

5 hours later

He heard a systematic knocking 3 times and went to the door. “Ah! How are you Caleb? Come in.” Caleb entered the room with a slight, rare smile, carefully hanged his coat on the clothing stand and then just stood there awkwardly for a moment. He noticed a weird painting on the wall, but couldn’t quite make out what it was. “Take a seat, my friend. Can I get you something to drink? I know you like lavender tea, right?” Caleb lightly nodded. “So, last time we talked about my book. Did you actually get it?”, the man asked curiously. “Yes.”, Caleb replied. “And did you read some of it yet?”, he asked. “All of it.”, Caleb replied. The man laughed in disbelief. “No way. Well I guess you’re part of a very small club now. I’m curious. How did you find it?”, he asked. Caleb took a moment to think and then answered: “Inspirational.”.

3 hours earlier at Ben’s and Caleb’s home

Ben’s neighbour and long term friend Eliza was on her way to his house. They are both passionate hobby cooks and occasionally gift one another a fine dish. She rang the doorbell. Nobody answers. Again. Still nobody answers. Just before she wanted to leave she suddenly realized that she didn’t see the tiny gap between the door and the frame. She knew Caleb.

There’s no way Caleb would be this unwary. Maybe Ben was home alone and left? Should I just peek inside. Maybe something happened. Nah, Ben was probably just careless.

She left the dish on the door, turned around and made her way back home.

Why didn’t he get that I love him yet? Or does he? Maybe I’m just not good enough for him.

Sadly she took off her shoes and threw them in the corner of the room before wearily wandering to the couch and letting herself fall into it in relief. Ben did find her very attractive and also very kind and interesting. But there’s one thing he couldn’t stand about her. She’s quite dull. There was a blood stain on the bottom of her right shoe.

Back at Caleb

“Inspirational?”, the man asked, visibly interested. “I want to be a collector now, too. It seems comforting to me.”, Caleb said. “Is that so? I never thought someone who read my book would share that passion of mine with me afterwards. Any particular category in mind?”, the man asked. While the man waited for a response that just didn’t came he noticed the absence of emotion in Caleb’s face, who just stood up and started wandering through the room. Slightly scared by Caleb’s awkward reaction to his last question the man stayed in his seat and watched him closely. He then asked: “Is everything alright, Caleb? You act strangely.” As he wandered around the room something piqued his interest quite strongly. There was a rather large cabinet on the wall with all kinds of different art pieces in there. Caleb, who still had the same emotionless expression in his face, slowly turned his head towards the man, who still sat there in the corner and now showed clear signs of intense nervousness. Suddenly, Caleb put that familiar vague smile on his face and slowly said: “I’m sorry. I get lost in things sometimes.” The man seemed visibly relieved, got up and slowly approached Caleb, whose stare seemed to be fixed on a particular set of art pieces. “Ah. I see these tickled your curiosity.”, the man said. Caleb didn’t react and seemed absorbed by the artwork. “Collection 237.”, the man whispered proudly. They were a pair of black boxes. Caleb slowly raised his eyebrows. “This many? Where are the others?”, he asked with his stare still being glued to the boxes. “Somewhere else.”, the man answered reluctantly. “You can take a look at what’s inside.”, the man whispered. Caleb acted strange. He seemed to have puit his usual slowness and unresponsiveness aside and didn’t hesitate a second to open the cabinet to get one of the boxes. “Keep in mind that it’s still incomplete.”, the man warned Caleb. “How so?”, Caleb asked? “You’ll see.”, the man responded. Caleb slowly took the lid off the box. At the same time he realized what is inside he felt a stinging on the side of his neck. “You didn’t read it, did you?”, the man whispered to Caleb, now with a gruesomely malicious tone in his voice. Completely paralyzed, Caleb gave up control immediately and let himself fall into the arms of the predator. A strange feeling began streaming through his body as he smelled the intense lavender from the box. It was a feeling of simultaneous relief and terror. Now he knew. He finally knew what happened to Adrian. And he knew what was inside the other box. “You know, if I didn’t do it, then you wouldn’t be like this. But I had to do it. Just know that.” After an endless moment the man breathed into Caleb’s ear while holding the second page of his book in front of his victim’s eyes. “Well, let me read it to you, then.”. He heard Milo whimpering and felt the pain of expectation of what was to come.

“To collect all things, dead or alive. For only this way one becomes a true collector.”

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[thehiphoprviewclub]

4:44 : A Track-by- Track    Breakdown

By C.D.

*** The following are my own opinions and analysis. Read at your own risk.***

TRACK #1- Kill Jay Z: He got very personal very fast. Not that getting personal isn’t already part of his trademark, but he is definitely letting his guard down. He shows remorse/regret. He tries to due away with the ego and tries to be vulnerable to his shortcomings. The fact that he admitted that the fame  got to him is kind of surprising because though he has rapped about fame’s addictive nature in other songs, he has always sort of separated himself from it. In “Lost One”, he raps:

“And I ain't even want to be famous/Niggaz is brainless to unnecessarily go through these changes/And I ain't even know how it came to this/Except that fame is

The worst drug known to man/It’s stronger than heroin/When you could look in the mirror like, "There I am"/And still not see, what you've become/I know I'm guilty of it too but, not like them/You lost one”

I feel like he admits that maybe fame did get to him the way it did the people he was talking about in the above lyrics. I very much appreciate the classic Jay Z wordplay with the KumbaYe and Saint Pablo references ( Major dragging here!! *insert the YAAAS* emoji here!!)  And the line about “Let go your ego over your right shoulder/Your left is sayin’, “Finish your breakfast!”/You egged Solange on” That whole line is brilliant because not only does he have a play on words with “Leggo my eggo”, his ego, and “egging” Solange on, but he also manages to reference “Public Service Announcement” with “Finish your breakfast!” So kudos on that! Oh and then he dragged Future with that football reference! COLD!

TRACK #2- The Story of O.J.: He gets more political on this track. Using that Nina Simone sample and the beat of this song made its message more powerful. I feel like the chorus is a commentary on how it doesn’t matter how successful you get or how unsuccessful you become, if you are black , all society will see is the color of your skin. I feel like the rest of the song is about moving forward as a culture and being able to save up for a better future. It reminded me of Kanye West.  Kanye West sort of touched on this in “Can’t Tell Me Nothing”, but while Kanye talks about the fact that because he was born with nothing, he is being reckless with his money now that he has some to spend, Jay is like invest in the future for a more profitable future. This song is Anti-Fast Cash and Pro-Credit. And he manages to call out the “fake rapper” who are flashing their money on social media for likes. I should mention that I really liked the style in which he rapped. It’s almost like an adlib or a conversational tone when he says, “I could bought a place in Dumbo before it was Dumbo/ For like 2 million/ That same building today is worth 25 million/ Guess how I’m feelin’? Dumbo” and I like the Dumbo reference with his word play.

TRACK #3- Smile:Longest song on the album and the lyrics are insane. Some of my favorite lines are: “Hall of Fame HOV, I did it all without a pen” It reminds me of the opening lines from D.O.A.( Death of Autotune)[ “First rapper to rewrite history without a pen/ No I.D. on the track let the story begin”] “A loss aint a loss, it’s a lesson/Appreciate the pain, it’s a blessin’” “Fuck a slice of the apple pie, want my own cake” - I feel like he could either be talking about Apple Music here and how he wants to be in charge of his own music so now he owns Tidal or he could be referring to running the city of New York (the Big Apple). There is a part of the song where I feel he references Beyonce’s “Run the World (Girls)” where he raps “Fuck you, pay me” which is a lyric in the Beyonce song. He talks  a lot about financial freedom and freedom in general  for the black community  in this one too like in the previous song. Sample line: “Fear for you, bro, we know the system don’t work/ Take a young n****’s freedom over some dirt” and he mentions Black entrepreneurs and free enterprise, so again a politically charged song. I like the last line and his mom’s poem. So overall, great song!

TRACK #4- Caught Their Eyes: I love the chorus and beat of this song. He really takes people to task here. Like the Prince estate making profit off him after his death. It’s additional commentary on the commodity of black bodies, black artists, and black art. I liked all of the allusions to eyes in the second verse. He references Prince, Biggie, colorblindness, shutting his eyes. Line after line. It’s brilliant. And it all ties into the song title and the idea that one has to be vigilant of the people that you surround yourself with. I also like the way he ties in image of hair with lines like, “I seen eyes wide as they’re about to shoot/ You can be a hairpin off and you can trigger your Roots”. Not only does he connect hairpin with the Roots (band/hair), but he also connects the image of someone shooting a gun to the trigger in the next line. He is a true wordsmith!

TRACK #5-4:44: People call this his response to Lemonade. His “apology letter”  or whatever. The sample track is fye. He really takes you through his relationship though and calls himself out on his shortcomings as a father and husband.  I could see where it could be juxtaposed against Lemonade. While Lemonade is an album meant to empower black women and take you on a journey of her relationship, this does something similar with the journey of a man in that same relationship. His lyrics are incredible though. Let me point this out here, he is still a piece of shit husband/man for stressing his wife out so much, she lost her baby. He may be an incredible artist, but he should be held accountable for that shit!

TRACK #6- Family Feud: I love that Beyonce’s vocals were used as a backing track. Throughout the album, you get these references to his past work like when he says “Hovi’s home”, it reminds me of “U Don’t Know.” He drags some of the new rappers with his 2Pac line. I also found it funny how he referenced Steve Harvey because the song title is “Family Feud” and he is the host of “Family Feud.” Brilliant. But what is even more brilliant is that he features Beyonce in this song, because he is referencing their marriage troubles in a very subtle way. “Ain’t no such thing as an ugly billionaire, I’m cute” You’re killing me Jay! He references “Row Row Your Boat” with “And we merrily merrily eatin’ off these streams”. I also liked the line “What’s better than one billionaire?Two/ ‘Specially if they’re from the same hue as you”. Beyonce gave me life with those ‘Amens’ too! I came across an article that explains the “Dos Equis reference as him calling out new rappers because it is a reference to XXL’S Freshmen Class. It’s a very subtle jab, but a powerful one.

TRACK #7-Bam: I like how he presents himself as two people here. In the song, he is talking as HOV, his alter ego. It could be a subtle nod to Beyonce, although HOV predates Sasha Fierce. In this song, he seems to be calling out those rappers who pretend to be hard. With lines like, “I’ve never seen a worker rock so many jewels/ I’ve never seen a runner with so many cars/ Y’all couldn’t stop me, you’re not as tough as you say you are”, he establishes that these “new rappers” are all talk. They didn’t come from the projects, they never sold drugs. They didn’t live in a dangerous and impoverished situation like he did. He establishes his precedence over them. He reiterates this when he says, “N***** could not be further, I fathered your style.” One of my favorite lines include, “ Uh, n***** is skippin’ leg day just to run they mouth/ I be skippin’ leg day, I still run the world.” This song establishes Hova’s dominance over the rap game, making sure that new rappers know who the G.O.A.T. is and is further emphasized by Damian Marley’s outro where he indicates that it is hunting season.

TRACK #8- Moonlight: The song title is an obvious reference to the debacle that happened at the 2017 Academy awards where LaLa Land was wrongfully awarded the Oscar meant for “Moonlight”. Jay Z might be touching on the fact that black artists are often discredited for their creative work. The first verse makes me think he is shading Future because I feel like he is mimicking his sound with “I’m in the skrt with ya…” Again, he goes after the new generation of rappers when he raps, “Stop walkin’ around like y’all made Thriller, huh?” He just has a real problem with people pretending to be something they are not and profiting off of that culture which goes back to the ways in which society profits off black culture, specifically the way that white people use black culture for profit. He even references Lauryn Hill and the way that her label limited her artistic freedom which again touches on the song’s theme.

TRACK #9-Marcy Me: This is a nostalgic song, looking back in the day to when Jay was at his prime. Again, I like his clever lines like “Streets in my artery, the vein of my existence”. It's word play with vain/vein to go with his artery imagery. The whole second verse is incredible. I like how he is able to draw parallels between his life then and now and how he connects his partying with Saudi’s to being able to speak Farsi. It’s a great song.

Track #10- Legacy :This song is pretty self-explanatory. Jay wants black excellence to strive for future generations.