#even after HE actively robbed her of hers.

[valaglarios]

the lotus' story is one that is so rife with tragedy and her abuse by ballas is of course focused on a lot in the new war, but i think one aspect of this abuse that's often overlooked is how it was actively enabled by erra, the lotus' own brother. when the lotus re-assumed her identity as natah, she thought she was going back to (relative) safety, finally free from orokin control, to subjects and a family that loved her. and erra used her trust and love for him against her, collaborated with the man that imprisoned and brainwashed her, stood by and let him use her for his own ends, and was willing to play second fiddle himself to ballas in the hopes that ballas would attain the sentients dominance over the sol system. even at the very end, erra wasn't sorry that he used his own sister as a tool, and helped her long-time torturer & abuser do the same, very nearly resulting in a horrific drawn-out death after which she would have been discarded by trash. erra did not care that ballas sexually assaulted the lotus, cut her hand off, and threw her into the void in front of him. erra was only sorry that ballas pulled the wool over his eyes and made him out to be a total fool, and put the rest of the sentients at risk. if he had any regret at all for the lotus, it would have been that she would have died for "nothing," rather than the fact that he was happy to let her die at all

[unladielike]

first night together.

( not a picrew edit this time around, but something i modified from neka.cc featuring vivian and @spiritpyro's hayate! to be honest, though, i couldn't really recreate his stupid, skrunkly hair, so i had to mess around a bit... but surprisingly enough, vivian's chain choker was already an option, so i didn't need to do much for her, besides adjust the glasses and obscure her ear a bit more. EITHER WAY, it still ended up being a huge pain in the butt due to just hayate alone; therefore, i'm glad to finally be done with this! )

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dead Man's Diner pt5

Danny groggily propped himself up as he heard the loud bang of his door being thrown open

"DANIEL VLADIMIR FENTON!"

Blinking a few times to get the sleep out of his eyes, Danny glared at Tucker, "Middle name? Really?" He hated it, so very much, hated that he thought it was cool when he was a kid, and hated it so much more after the portal incident, it wasn't enough for his parents to have Vlad be his godfather, Danny's middle name had to be that fruitloops as well.

Damn his parents for being such caring friends.

Tucker met Danny's glare as he crossed his arms in the doorway into Danny's room

He would cut an intimidating figure if Danny didn't know him, suit and tie perfectly pressed with a PDA held in one hand.

"I know you said that you got the Bats at the diner place thingy you are working at now last night, but did you have to call them out? Red Robin and Oracle have been trying to track you for the last 5 hours, I have had to summon Technus in the WE employee bathrooms! Thank God Mr Wayne included baby changing stations in each stall or I would have had to carve a sigil into the fucking wall! And I think *he* bricked the Batcomputor!" Tucker screeched as he paced the clear area of Danny's messy room

Scrubbing at his eyes, Danny sat up fully, more awake than he was a minute ago, "S-sorry? Didn't really think about them being sore bitches about it, I tagged them like once and set it online, they probably get hundreds of tags an hour. How was is supposed to know that they would read it?"

Tucker snarled, holding out his PDA for Danny to see "Not just Nightwing and Red Robin, half the God damn Young Justice team, The Titans are all over Nightwing, and all the rest of the bats are laughing their asses off! Look!"

<@Superboy_(the_hot_one)

[@not-that-red-robin.real wow Rob, if I knew u were broke I would have have asked Lexie to give u some cash]

<@Beep-Beep!_(official-Impluse)

[ @not-that-red-robin.real that's not very lit fam Gucci of u RR not very rizztastic and definitely isn't skibidi

@living-legend(Yes_that_wondergirl)

<@not-that-red-robin.real for fucking shame Red Themyscira has laws for bitches like you comere I am gonna cut off your thumbs.

Letting out a laugh, Danny was grinning as he scrolled through to Nightwings part.

<@theonetrueblueborg

[@.realwing: it's giving "my daddys rich and will take the bill" wing]

<@veggiemonster

[@.realwing: bro

:BRO

:Broooooooooooo]

<@Goth (Taylor's version)

[@.realwing: shame.]

Danny was full on laughing now, ad from what he could see through tears, so was Tucker, standing up with a weaze, "O-oh my Ancients....ugh t-that is just great"

Letting out a few more chuckles, Danny handded the PDA over to his friend, "I am sorry about getting the Bats aware of me, but I am not sorry for calling them toxic thinks."

Tucker sighed, running his forehead but still had a smile on his face, "You do know #NightwingsAssIsCancelled is trending right now?"

Danny couldn't hold back the cackle that shot through him at that.

---

Tim held his head in his hands, above him was his laptop, cycling through rebooting and then crashing, it had been five minutes so far, and if the last cycle had told him anything it would be up to that for another five minutes.

Groaning, Tim dragged himself up, he hadn't slept much last night, spending most of it trying (and failing) to get any information on the employee of Big C's, Danny nolastname he could find.

That was part of the problem, anytime he got even a smidgen close, it was like someone bitchsmacked him away. Even Babs was having trouble, she got a single thing before getting locked out of her own systems with baby shark playing on loop through her speakers.

He didn't know what to feel, humiliated that he was being actively cock blocked for information or excited since this is the first time in a while something was so difficult! The bear fact that he was being blocked so hard meant that there was something to block with this kid!

Stumbling down to the dining room, Tim didnt spare the table of his family a glance until he had gotten the pre-made cup of coffee from Alfred, letting the bitter drink wake him fully.

Finally turning to the family at large, he saw Bruce doing his best impression of a stone statue (Normal Damian was openingly glaring at him (slightly less normal), Dick was face down in a bowl of cereal (vaugly normal) and Cass was giggling while putting clips and sparkling things into Dicks hair (okay back to normal again)

Sitting in his spot across from Damian, Tim sighed, which seemed to be enough for Damian to go off on him.

"Are we paupers Drake? Has the CEO position at WE pay so little? And what of your own company? I was unaware that Drake Industries has fallen on such hard times!" Damians words rolled out like a lazy river, smooth and uncaringly cold.

"Oh my God, I am already planning on going back tonight and settling the fucking tab Dami, lay off it." Getting the expected "language" statement from both Bruce and Alfred, Tim drained his coffee cup, not so slamming it down but close to it before Damian could respond.

Eyes shooting to Bruce he huffed, "Meeting. Vlad Masters. One ish hours away."

Bruce's eyes shot to Alfred who only raised a brow at the two and Bruce stiffened "We can speak later in my Study Tim, eat something other than coffee and we can go do that." Getting a nod from Alfred, Bruce seemed to deflate with a sigh.

Grumbling, Tim picked at the plate of food Alfred placed in front of him, before forcing himself to eat, he would need energy more than coffee.

After managing to finish half his plate, Tim stood, "Come on, I need yo clue you in to somethings I was researching last night B..."

---

Bruce stayed silent as he sat down in his office, a tablet on his lap as he went through the test results once again.

"...are you saying me and Dick had Lazarus water laden food last night?" Tim said with frigid calmness

Biting back the urge to clam up and try and keep his son from worrying, Bruce nodded, "Trace amounts yes, I am unsure of its origins, the samples I was able to pull were much more pure than we are used to. How are you feeling?"

He watched as Tim held his face in his hands, massaging his temples before speaking, "Fine really? A little tired, appetite isn't there but that's normal...been feeling a strange sensation in my side but that is just likely phantom pain."

Noting everything down, Bruce nodded slowly, "Dick mentioned that he was still full feeling after a night's sleep and that some old wounds were feeling strange, I can only assume you are feeling your splenectomy scar?"

Sighing at Tim's agreement, Bruce noted a few more things down, making holding the last line to ask Damian if he had any knowledge on eating food effected by the pits, and another one not to tell Jason about this all in case it triggers something in him

"Putting that aside, B, what about Masters? Vladco makes medical stuff right? Shady business practices?" Bruce gave a grunt, switching the tabs on his pad to show him thr information on Vladimir Masters.

"Age 48, male, standing 6'1, weighs about 180, doctorate in theoretical quantum mechanics, had a lab incident preparing for a theise that left him hospitalized for some time, after he recovered and graduated is when his suspected criminal activities began, since then he has had several business owners simply sign their lively hoods to him...I suspect he is Meta with some sort of mind control abilities, the lab accident would make sense in awakening his Mets gene."

Bruce spoke as he handed the tablet over to Tim, "He sponsors several scientists with various types of study, two that stick out are Doctors Fenton and CADMUS."

Tim pulled a face as he followed along through the tabs of research "CADMUS? Really? So we are looking at some Midwestern millionaire that is totally not a supervillian in the making...what's up with the Fentons?" Handing the tablet back Tim flopped down into the chair opposite to Bruce.

"I am trying to figure that out, so far I know they went to school with Masters, and were there with him during the lab accident, the continual funding Masters is giving them makes me suspect they are just as involved in what ever Masters is to to..." Bruce was going to continue when there was a knock on the study door, and Alfred poked his head in.

"If you wish to be on time to your meeting, I would suggest Master Timothy get dressed now so you both might be in the car while I drive it to Wanye Towers."

Bruce frowned, but nodded, giving time a small smirk as the teen begins to realize he is just in a winkled t shirt that Bruce was 95% sure was Conners, and a pair of shorts that Bruce was very sure were Barts.

[apuckishwit]

When Your Boyfriend's a Reformed Mean Girl

100 percent inspired by this tiktok: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTR75sjkf/

Time seems to do wierd things for Eddie Munson.

It's something Steve has gotten used to, in the year they've been dating. Eddie is attentive and affectionate, always makes sure Steve needs are being met, always goes the extra mile to let Steve know how much he loves him, how much he cherishes their time together. In many ways, he's the best partner Steve's ever had.

Just...sometimes things like approaching deadlines and important dates seem to literally not register in his brain until it's almost too late. And not even then, sometimes.

Eddie acknowledges that it's a problem. He puts every effort into finding workarounds. There is a calendar hanging at both his (brand new, government-funded) trailer and Steve's house, hanging right by the door with color-coded schedules and a pack of Post-It notes and a cup of pens sitting on a little table below it in case something changes or comes up. Steve has a dedicated half hour every night where he's allowed to remind Eddie of things they have coming up, or ask if they've been added to the calendar and Eddie is one hundred percent not allowed to gripe about being nagged in that thirty minutes. Not that he would, because most of the time there's at least one, "Oh, shit, forgot about that." When something slips through the cracks, he apologizes promptly and sincerely if it's something that affects someone other than him and he is always trying to do better.

Steve understands. Hell, after as many concussions as he's had, details get away from him too sometimes. There's several color-coded blocks on the calendar for Steve, as well. Sometimes, Eddie just forgets things despite his best efforts.

But their anniversary? The date that Steve has been carefully planning for almost a month to celebrate their first (of hopefully, many) year together as a couple? Really?

Eddie is going to be horrified.

He is going to feel so bad, and so guilty, and he is absolutely going to go all out to make it up to Steve. Steve knows this. He knows Eddie loves him, and that Eddie was looking forward to tonight as much as he was, and that this is just an instance of Eddie's brain betraying him, and not him actively trying to hurt Steve, or be dismissive of him. Eddie is going to feel awful when he realizes that he stood Steve up on their one-year anniversary to fight imaginary dragons with the boys. Hell, the boys are probably going to feel awful when they realize they gave Eddie something else to focus on in the lead-up to his one-year anniversary.

Well. Dustin, Lucas, and Will are going to feel awful. Mike will probably think it's hilarious.

The point is, Steve knows Eddie didn't do this on purpose, and it's not that Eddie doesn't value his time with Steve enough to remember the date, and so he's merely irritated. Maybe a little exasperated. Not truly angry.

All he has to do is radio over to Wheeler's place and remind Eddie what the date is. His boyfriend will literally drop everything, will probably not even bother to pack up his precious miniatures and dice before he's tearing out of the driveway and breaking every traffic law imaginable to get to Steve's house. Steve doesn't actually want Eddie to get a ticket or anything, though. Besides.

He's feeling a little petty.

There's steaks waiting to be tossed on the grill, twice-baked potatoes in the oven, and a fucking homemade chiffon cake with fresh strawberries and whipped cream chilling in the fridge. Eddie's gift is sitting on the counter, in an elegant little gift bag tied with black ribbon.

"Hey Rob, you wanna come over for dinner?" he says into his walkie, deciding to let Fate decide if his boyfriend is listening and catches a clue.

"Do I get a piece of that cake you made?" Robin replies immediately, amusement already dancing in her voice because she's his (platonic) soulmate and she can read his mind.

"You can take the leftovers home," he says.

And then his (romantic) soulmate, who can usually read his mind, comes over the channel as well. "Have fun, babe!" Eddie says brightly. "This is probably going to run later than I thought. I'll probably just pick you up for breakfast tomorrow, okay?"

Steve rolls his eyes fondly. "Okay."

"Love you!" Eddie says, and signs off.

Robin brings a bottle of wine she stole from her parents' pantry and they demolish the dinner and half the cake. Steve does get another package of steaks out to thaw in the fridge for tomorrow, though, and blows out the fancy candles he'd lit before they burn too low to be used again. Fuck if he's making another chiffon cake, though, persnickety little thing. He calls Enzo's and orders a chocolate marble cheesecake to be picked up tomorrow.

"So you gonna milk this for a nice present or what?" Robin asks as Steve is packing the remains of the cake for her to take home, as promised.

"Nah. He's fucking perfect like 90% of the time...I'm not gonna get mad at him for the other ten." Robin smiles at him, a little gooey-eyed. Steve returns it with a smirk. "But I'm not letting him off the hook entirely."

He has just finished putting the dishes away when he hears the rumble of Eddie's van in the driveway. He glances down at his watch, laughing to himself a little when he notes that while late, it is far, far too early for a gaming session to be done. He scoops his little gift bag off the counter and saunters to the front door just in time for a frantic knocking to sound. He schools his features and opens the door.

"Steve! Stevie, baby, I am so, so sorry. I swear to God, I had tonight written down in like five different places, but Dustin wanted to try a new character class and we haven't done this campaign yet, and I got so excited...I'm so sorry I forgot, but I'm here and I SWEAR I will make it up to you!" Eddie pauses for breath, wild-eyed and panting.

Steve holds the silence for a moment, and then shakes his head, leaning forward to drop a kiss on Eddie's cheek. "You're such a nerd," he says, affection dripping from his words. He sighs. "I hope you know, now I'm expecting flowers tomorrow. And I get to pick the movies for, like, two weeks with no complaints."

Eddie almost wilts in relief. "Absolutely none," he promises, reaching out to grip Steve's hand. "I will make tomorrow night AMAZING. I promise."

Steve smiles at him, his chest aching with the love he feels for this man. But he's still feeling just a little bit petty. He holds the bag out to Eddie, tilting his head coyly. "You can still open this tonight, though."

"Babe! I thought we said no gifts." He takes the bag in his hands, plucking at the ribbon.

Steve's smile turns just a little sharper. He worked fucking hard on that cake. "It's kind of for both of us, really. It's what I was gonna wear up to bed tonight."

Eddie peeks in the box, his brow furrowing. "Stevie...there's nothing but strawberry lip gloss and a bottle of lube in here." He looks up, and freezes as his brain catches up with what his mouth just said.

Steve leans forward and kisses him, hard, long, and absolutely filthy. "Suffer," he whispers against his boyfriend's lips.

Then he shuts the door in his face.

[hotteokyu]

Bad Girl Syndrome

MINORS DNI ~ EXPLICIT CONTENT

Synopsis~ Reader and Yunho are some bad bitches. They're lovers in crime, infamous for their heartless acts. Everyone knows them. The scariest of the scariest are scared of them. They're insane. Except... there's one little secret. The lovers are so innocent behind closed doors. They've never thought about it until now, let alone done it. Sex, that is.

Word count~ 11.4k

Pairing~ outlaw!yunho x outlaw!reader

Genre / WARNINGS ~ NSFW / EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, romance, violence, drugs, criminal activity, sexual tension, pet names, insensitive language, yu and y/n are super cute, they "participate" in an orgy temporarily, dry humping, vaginal fingering, oral (female and male receiving), vaginal sex, yuyu's big, first time, virgins.

a/n~ have fun!! mwa ᯓᡣ𐭩

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊° ~ ♡

     Everyone has a story. Most of them aren’t important. 

     But yours is.

     You were fifteen when you met him. 

     It was silly because he was just like you.

     He liked to do bad things.

     You saw him first at a local charity. One that helped ex-convicts start a new life. You saw him hand a freaky-looking shit a gun. It was on the news the next morning. Fifteen people died. And that freaky guy killed himself after.

     You liked to do bad things too.

     Smashing vending machines, selling drugs, breaking into rich fucks’ houses, and snipping their whores’ hair off while they slept. Just small things.

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊° ~ ♡

     Jeong Yunho was his name.

     It took only a month for him to notice you. When you got together at sixteen, you began to do worse things. Kill, rob, torment. It felt so much better to do it with Yunho. Your reputation built on its own as your desire to play alongside him grew.

     You were wanted in four countries by eighteen.

     At nineteen, you were arrested in Mongolia for murder and wanted to die rather than live through that hell. You were assaulted physically and sexually multiple times by inmates and guards alike.

     You were twenty when you killed an inmate for trying to take your clothes off. You had smashed her head against the cell bars until her brains were spilling out and she collapsed, dead. You were gone before she was found.

     You and Yunho had to move around a lot after that, and you found others along the way. Seven outlaws, wanted for this or that. Your gang was somewhat official by the time you were twenty-one. That’s when you found your turf. And you never left.

     By twenty-four, you were fucking unstoppable. 

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊° ~ ♡

     “Hmm? Where’s your bitch?” 

     The bar was quiet. The bartender, a youthful drunkard, was always talking the customers away. It was bad for business but nice for the locals. For you and your bitch.

     “He’s around,” you sighed. “You think he’ll leave me? He doesn’t even take me out anymore.” You sat down softly upon a stool at the bar, your chin resting on the palm of your hand sadly. There was even a little pout to go with it. “I just might die if he leaves me.”

     The man scoffed, rubbing uselessly at a stained glass, pinching its rim with a black hand towel. It looked like it would turn to dust, as it used to be purple. “About time. I’m tired of your shit.”

     You ignored him, instead sighing again as you eyed the door gloomily. 

     Wooyoung was his name, maybe. You’d thought about killing him before, but Yunho really liked him. For some reason. He was so loud. Holy shit, he did not stop talking. It made you so fucking close to slicing his neck wide open.

     The bell above the door rang, and two heavy feet stumbled inside. You closed your eyes, letting out a long sigh. You’d taken a shower that morning, but a bath didn’t sound too bad. Just to soothe your frustrations, though you could already feel them fading away.

     You opened your eyes slowly, cocking a brow at the bartender, who was very much not amused. At least he wasn’t talking. 

     “Wooyoungie~!” you sang, hopping to your feet as the steps grew closer. You let a smirk land on your lips. “I think I’ll live tonight!”

     “I think you should just go home,” he groaned, eyeing the customer behind you, then returning his annoyed orbs right back at your growing grin. Your lips stretched far over your teeth as you reached a cheek-squishing smile.

     “There’s no tomorrow! Only tonight!” you shouted. 

     The steps behind you halted. Even retreated just once or twice. You stepped out, twirling your hair over your shoulder as you turned your head toward him. Six feet tall, big, strong, eyes wide in terror as he laid them on your grin. 

     You liked eyeing up those men. The big ones who turned to putty as soon as they heard your pretty voice or saw your beautiful face. It was so cute. I mean, who could be scared of you? Your little bows and skirts. Your cutesy smile and pretty pink lip gloss. Not to mention your beautiful eyes. Any man would want to fall deep into their ethereal design. But instead, they were drained of all color. Gray clumps of old smelly men who were so scared of you. It made the killing part so much more fulfilling. 

     You took a step, your left foot before your right. A straight line as you pattered your way, just a few steps, toward the frozen man. They were so slow. Could he even see you moving? He didn’t even move his eyes from your smile. He was a little nervous. You had to let him get comfortable with your face, let him enjoy it. It would be the last thing he ever saw.

     You could see his tremble as you got closer, just a bit. He didn’t move, but he consistently quivered in that spot.

     Around then, you would usually be thinking of how you wanted to do it, but you were so tired. You just wanted to slit his throat and be done. Have Wooyoung take care of the rest. Or maybe just let him go. He seemed to want to leave anyway. Not that you were stopping him. 

     A glass slid against the counter then. You glanced over, just a little curious. You were so zoned in, but the sound broke that abruptly.

     “Hi, baby,” Yunho mumbled from a stool at the bar. Your pin-sized pupils dilated significantly at the simple sight of him. The soft, low sound of his voice. 

     You heard a whimper of sorts from the man beside you, and you frowned, eyeing him and deepening the curve of your lips. “Can you just go?” you sighed, rolling your eyes when his legs stumbled in trying to figure out where to move. 

     His knees dropped to the floor, a droplet of water splashing against the dirty mud-tracked tile. That was either a tear or the drool that had been dripping from his mouth since he fucking walked in. Disgusting. He suddenly choked out a sob so gruesome and horrified as he slammed his arms over his head.

     “Oh, okay.” She glanced over at the two men at the counter, slowly shrugging in confusion. They were getting so stupidly scared. How could fear make you like that? That’s so embarrassing. 

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊° ~ ♡

     “How are you still standing, Wooyoungie?” Yunho chuckled, splashing his drink as he clanked his glass against your kitchen counter. “Her face is so scary~!” He took your head between his two huge hands and squished your cheeks together, imitating the pout that your lips formed as he watched your features reshape between his palms. “Ooh~ I’m so scared~!” He grinned when your tightly knitted brows lightened and hopped a little with your small laugh. 

     “I’m going home,” Wooyoung grumbled, pushing his glass away as he sighed dramatically at your lovey-lovely shit. “Don’t call me. I’ll be dead anyway.”

     “No~! That’s not true!!” you laughed. “We’ll protect you!” 

     Yunho nodded, giving Wooyoung a confident thumbs up. He wasn’t really having it.

     “Don’t call me.”

     The door creaked and slammed, the sound echoing throughout the room. Yunho was watching the frames on the wall tremble for a moment before he eagerly turned back toward you. His grin was playful as always, his eyes squinting as he watched your pretty little face.

     “Are you excited for tomorrow?” he asked, his smile growing a bit bigger when you nodded quickly. He put a gentle hand on your head, stroking down once, then twice. There was always a gentleness to his gaze that you adored. Because Yunho was a dangerous man, but he also became putty when he looked at you. Only in a completely different way from anyone else. 

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊° ~ ♡

     Money wasn’t the issue. It was just so thrilling. Of course, money was great too. There was just something about that moment outside of the forbidden vault. You could hardly breathe with the mask sticking to your face like a second layer of skin. Your eyes sparkled out of excitement and the reflection of the shimmer of the silver vault door. 

     You weren’t allowed in there. You weren’t allowed to have any of what lay beyond the door. So you wanted it. 

     “Ladies first.” Yunho’s voice was soft beside your ear, his body pressing lightly against your back as he bent down to meet you at your level. You lifted your hand just high enough to feel the fluff of his black hair peeking out from the mask at his neck. You slid your fingers against the soft of his skin gently. “Or are you scared?” he whispered, folding just a little closer. He took your wrist in his hand and lowered it, placing it on the wheel of the door. “Or do you need help?”

     You pulled, and the door creaked, slowly opening to reveal the bags and boxes of treasures within. This town was so underdeveloped. No need for technology or even locks within the vault because there was hardly anything to anyone’s name anyway. 

     “You’ve got three minutes. We parked out back. Call when you’re ready to go.” You could hear the crinkles of a bag and the crunches of snacks through your earpiece. Seonghwa was probably in the driver’s seat munching on some chips. At least he ate neatly. 

     As soon as you stepped foot into the room, the other three outlaws on your raid team rushed inside. San, Jongho, and Yeosang. They were big, and strong, and good at being efficient in times like these. They would take care of loading the goods. 

     You walked past the gold bars and green bills toward the back of the vault, an empty wall, the perfect canvas. Yunho held out the spray paint, black this time. Black meant murder, though this was a robbery. There was one death, the lady at the counter who wanted to be a hero. But it was hardly murder. She collapsed with a little push against the wall.

     Sighing, you took the can. Then, as far as your arms could reach, you sprayed your gang’s cute little symbol. The curves looked nice that time, dripping just a bit as you stood back to admire your hard work. 

     “We’re leaving,” Yunho announced as you turned toward the door. The room was nearly empty. You grabbed the final bag as everyone filed out.

     The blood on the floor from the lady had spread into the walkway. You stepped into the puddle with a small smile. You liked leaving a trace of your cute pink boots behind. The cops would go crazy over the evidence, but it would be useless.

     “I thought you liked those boots,” Yunho mumbled, pouting a little as you all got in the van and drove off. “They’re ruined…”

     “I’ll get new ones,” you assured, knowing he liked them more than you did. 

     You wiggled your feet out and frowned when you saw a drop of red on your white sock down by your toes. Yunho gasped, taking your foot off of the van floor and placing it in his lap. 

     “You like these too,” he grumbled.

     Yunho always grew a little attached to cute things. Especially when they were on you. 

     You placed your hands on his soft cheeks, his eyes meeting yours. “I think you like them more than I do,” you teased, and he nodded. “Do you like them more than you like me?” you asked, pouting a little.

     “Holy shit!” San suddenly shouted. Everyone turned their heads in confusion, your hands dropping to your lap. “Get a fucking room,” he practically growled, glaring at the two of you in the back seat. “I’m tired of hearing it! You’re practically fucking each other every heist! Just wait until you get home!” He huffed and turned around in his seat.

     Sex. What distaste.

     “San, be for serious right now,” Wooyoung snickered.

     “They don’t even kiss. What do you mean fuck?” Jongho added. San glanced around in confusion.

     “They’re all up on each other, though, what do you mean??” 

     When you simply shifted in your seat, making your presence known, silence passed through the air. Not a single thought passed through that rigid air. No one moved. San’s face was awfully fucking pale compared to his golden skin. You’d think out of all of the seven outlaws you picked up from the streets, the stray cat should be the most grateful. I guess even loyal pets need to be retaught their manners.

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊° ~ ♡

     San looked guilty. There was nothing for him to be afraid of. You would never hurt him too badly. He was family, after all. 

     Choi San.

     You loved to joke around. You loved to have fun. You were a jolly girl. But to label you a whore? To speak or even think about such vulgar, lowly things?

     “San, what did we talk about, honey,” you asked, glancing down at his trembling hand, gripping his thigh and staining his black pants with his sweat. “It’s not too hard, is it? To respect me and your people.” 

     He shook his head, staring straight at the ground. You could feel your eye twitching. This relationship was not built on violence, so, unfortunately, you couldn’t just fucking kill him. 

     “San, please look at me.” His head shot up, and you saw the hot tears quivering in his bloodshot eyes. You frowned. “Poor, baby.” He was doing a poor job of keeping those tears bottled up. They looked like they’d spill over. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

     “I know,” he said between gritted teeth.

     “You know, I love you,” you said sweetly, giving him a small smile. 

     “I know.”

     “So what brought about this disrespect?” you asked, your voice growing just a bit tighter as you tried to contain yourself. He was fragile. “Was I rude to you? Was I bothering you too much? Do I annoy you?”

     He shook his head. “I was worried about your privacy,” he mumbled. His jaw was locked tight, the veins in his neck bulging as he stared into the center of your face. “That’s all.”

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊° ~ ♡

     “Fuuuck~” Wooyoung groaned. “I’m so ready to get the fuck out of here!” He leaned his head against the wall, lifting it and dropping it in quiet thuds.

     “Got a day left, Woo,” Yeosang reminded, smiling optimistically at his friend. He gave a cute thumbs-up, but the goon was uninterested, instead banging his head just a bit harder against the heist room wall. 

     “We’ve only been here for three months,” Hongjoong said as he walked in through the back door. His steps were a sophisticated rhythm, one foot in front of the other as he strolled into the little abandoned warehouse. “What’s one more day?”

     “Captain, I’m sick of living in hiding like a fucking criminal,” Wooyoung grumbled, stopping his banging once the man sat down.

     “That’s crazy,” Jongho snickered. “Who’s gonna tell him?”

     “Fuck, we deserve luxury,” Wooyoung practically moaned. “That town we went to two years back. We should go there again.” He bit his lip, rolling his eyes at the pleasurable thought of living like normal rich biches again.

     Hongjoong smiled softly. It always looked a little menacing that way. “Our princess picked out a nice place for us this time,” he said, winking as Wooyoung’s face lit up. “I thought it might be nice to fuck up something nice.”

     “Fuck, you’re so right,” Wooyoung moaned.

     “Did we forget our manners, Wooyoungie?” Yunho asked, leaning against the back of his chair. Wooyoung flinched just slightly before relaxing into a playful smirk.

     “Yeah. I’m a bad boy,” he mumbled, leaning his head back into Yunho’s stomach. “Gotta punish me.” 

     He glanced at you and your indifferent expression. He looked annoyed, disappointed, even. Then he lifted his head, sighed, and acted like nothing had just happened. 

     “Can we focus on tonight? We can’t fuck this up,” you said, and all eyes landed on you. “The cops are on high alert, and they know we’ll be there. They want to get us tonight.”

     “You mean, you?” Wooyoung grumbled. “They don’t give a shit about us. They just want you.” He eyed you reluctantly, then glanced toward Yunho. “And maybe him.” He half-assed a point toward the man. 

     “Don’t be silly,” Yunho cooed, patting Wooyoung’s shoulder sympathetically. “They want all of us equally.”

     Hongjoong shook his head. “No, he’s right,” he said. “We’re all fucked up, but you guys are on another level of fucked up. You’re the real prize.” 

     “I bet they’d cuff one of us just to ask where Y/n is. They’d let us go if we told,” San said, puckering his lips. “But I’m a good boy, so I’d never tell.”

     You scrunched your brows. Why were your teammates such freaks?

     “Aww~!” Wooyoung sung. “Is Sannie a good boy?” San nodded, giving his best puppy eyes as Wooyoung leaned over the table to stroke his short black hair.

    ��“Anyway!” you interrupted, clearing your throat when the freaks wouldn’t stop petting each other. “Does everyone remember what they need to fucking do?” You pressed your lips together, glancing at each individual as they nodded. One of them would find a way to fuck this up. You knew they would. It would probably be fucking Choi San, his head stuck thinking about sex. Sex. Sex. Fucking whore. 

     You left the room first, and Yunho followed close behind. Your black heels clacked on the cracked concrete floor and echoed throughout the empty warehouse. You loved that sound. You let it envelop your mind. Let it calm you down just a bit. 

     You should’ve been excited for that night. It was the night you’d been waiting for for a long time. Then you could finally get out of here. You just couldn’t get yourself hyped. You were so annoyed. 

     Yunho peeked into your line of vision, and you cracked a small smile, turning toward him happily. He was grinning, his hand folding into yours. He always fell into step beside you, his heelclickingng in time with yours. He was so conscious of every little detail. The folds on your skin, how they wrinkled just slightly at your agitation. The falter in your step, how your confidence must not be at its peak as it should be on an important night like this. 

     “Do you think we’re fucked up?” he asked, and you gave him a knowing look.

     “Of course not, baby. Don’t think that,” you cooed. “I’m just so pretty. They all want me so bad.”

     He laughed, squeezing his eyes together giddily as he pulled you just a bit closer. 

     “You gonna dress in black tonight?” he asked, looking from your shoes to your top to the pin in your hair. You were feeling a little depressed today. So what?

     “Mm…” you hummed to yourself. “Maybe I would feel better if I wore some pink.”

     He nodded quickly. “I think so.”

     “Yeah?” you giggled.

     He bit his lip, eyeing you shyly. “Pink looks really good on you.” You nearly coo at the pink blush tinting his cheeks from ear to ear. 

     He was so adorable. You didn’t even need to put any pink on to feel good.

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊° ~ ♡

     For context, it was a masquerade party or something. The cargo was a small vial of a newly developed drug. It gave an aroused, high feeling. A lot like an aphrodisiac, but stronger. It didn’t really matter what it was. Your buddies in Russia wanted it, so you would supply it. 

     But, of course, there was a guest list. No one would let you in. Everyone and their mothers knew your pretty little face. 

     That’s where your pretty princess came in. Mingi wasn’t a “member” of your gang, nor was he affiliated with you publically. He was born with money and status but liked to do bad things. He was naughty, but he was quiet. And he fucking loved you and Jeong Yunho. He met you two back when you were kids in Korea. He tagged along for a while but was dragged back to the princess life before anything became public. He had connections, money, and a fine good reputation. Your perfect princess. 

     You would go to the party as “Mingi”’s plus one. The man at your side would only be Mingi until you got inside, though. Once the identity authentication was processed, he would sneak out and switch with Yunho. As much as you all loved Mingi, he wasn’t very good at being naughty. 

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊° ~ ♡

     “Are you feeling all right, baby?” Yunho asked, his arm escorting you stiffly through the crowd.

     You hardly heard him over the extremity of your heartbeat. Fuck, this place was gorgeous. You wanted to look around at each painting, each dress, each extravagant jewel bedazzling the walls and tables, and fountains of assortments of drinks, and the gold flakes on sweet macaroons. The clacks of gentle steps elegantly echoed throughout the doming walls of the crystal structure. You could die a happy lady with this sight.

     “Do you like the dress I picked out for you?” Mingi asked from over the radio. Yunho’s arm tensed at your side, squeezing yours to him to keep your steps from wandering too far in amazement.

     You glanced toward Yunho with a soft, composed smile. “It’s lovely,” you told Mingi. In all honesty, it was pale and boring. Not at all your style, but at least it was shiny and blended in with the majority of the crowd. 

     Your mask, on the other hand, was absolutely stunning. When Yunho saw your sparkling eyes hidden beautifully in the shadows of the decorative piece, he nearly fell to his knees. He was in awe, not wanting to part from you, even if it was for, like, ten minutes. Mingi had to pry your arm from his grasp. It was embarrassing in front of your members, but you could just coo at his needy behavior. 

     Yunho gave you a knowing look as you frowned slightly down at your dress. 

     “The room you need to go into is downstairs,” Mingi sighed. “The guy with your package should arrive there soon.”

     “Any cams in there?” Yeosang asked, his fingers clacking against his ancient keyboard. 

     Mingi hummed. “I doubt it. Most of the time… shit goes down in the basement, ya know?” 

     It was a disadvantage you wish you didn’t have, but there was literally no information on the activities in the room you needed to be in. You had to be prepared for anything, and that was dangerous. 

     “Y/n, you see anything noteworthy around the stairs in the back?” Wooyoung asked. “I think I might know something.”

     You turned to Yunho, smiling up at him as you swayed your hand animatedly, talking almost silently but very expressively. “I think I know too. Butlers are carrying drinks down there every few minutes. Attendees…” you chuckled, a little nervous now that it’s all clicked for you. “The most revealing of the ladies and oldest, ugliest of the men.”

     Yunho nodded, smiling. “Does that mean…”

     “Well,” Wooyoung chuckled. “At least there’s two of you! It should be fine!”

     You winced as he let out a louder, monkey fucking laugh into your ear. You'd beat him up later, respect aside. 

     “You think this is funny?” you asked through tightly ground teeth. 

     “Guuuys~” he giggled, starting to calm down a bit. “It won’t be too hard. There’s gonna be tons of drugs and butt-naked men, but don’t pay attention to any of that.”

     “We don’t even know if that’s what it is,” Yeosang interrupted. 

     “That’s definitely what it is,” you sighed, watching as panting men and ladies escaped the darkness of the basement, sweating, flushed, and high as fuck.

     Wooyoung cleared his throat. “Listen. All you have to do is pretend to have some fun together. Then, pull out your magic drugs and get the guy’s attention. You know what the new stuff looks like. Make sure to bag it. You’ve done this for years, babes.”

     “Yeah, but people weren’t fucking and moaning and blocking every fucking sen-”

     Yunho placed a hand on your hip and squeezed lightly. You needed to shut the fuck up. Who were you to complain? It wouldn’t be hard. Woo was right. You would get in, bag that shit, and get out.

     “Let’s just go,” you mumbled, letting your expression sag to its natural annoyed state before you plastered an excited smile on your lips. 

     Yunho also seemed reluctant but tagged along regardless. I mean, neither of you really had a choice. This, or your Russian “buddies” would come find you while you were sleeping. 

     The guy at the door stopped you as you approached. You giggled like a slut, leaning into Yunho as you bit your lip. You reached into your man’s jacket pocket and slipped out just barely your little container of candy. He looked satisfied and let you pass. 

     You practically gagged as soon as that stench hit your nose. What the fuck was it. Alcohol. Tobacco. Cum. 

     What a fucking mess. 

     Woo was right. Buck naked, boobies hanging. Sex in every corner. Sex on every couch. 

     “Come on, baby,” Yunho groaned in your ear, pulling you to a free chair in the back of the room. Your ear twitched at the sound. It was definitely something you’d never heard from your sweet man before. You already knew he was much better at acting like he’d actually had sex before than you were. 

     He sat down and pulled you onto his lap. That was about all he had in him. He dropped his arms, pressed his lips tightly together, and stared wide-eyed at you above him. 

     “So you guys are in,” Wooyoung chuckled. “Where are you two in the room? Stay in the back, away from everyone’s attention.”

     “We’re in the back. O-on a chair,” you whispered into Yunho’s ear, right where his mic was. You lingered there for a moment. You could figure this out. It couldn’t be that hard. Sex. I mean, not sex. Pretending you were having sex. 

     After a long moment of horrible silence in your little area, Wooyoung cleared his throat. “Do you guys need some help?”

     “Yes,” you and Yunho both whispered immediately. 

     Wooyoung let out the biggest sigh, but he didn’t say anything about your incompetence as a couple. I mean, everyone knew you DID NOT fuck. For some reason… Everyone knew that. 

     “Sit on Yunho’s lap, Y/n,” he said. You nodded, glad you already had step one down. “All the way. Get all the way up on him.”

     You tilted your head. “All-?”

     “All the way.”

     You blushed, clearing your throat lightly as you scooted up on his lap, your hips flush together. You leaned over him, your mouth beside his ear simply to have his mic handy, but, this close, it felt too real already to simply be a mission. You’d never climbed your man like this before. You were probably heavy.

     “Yunho, hands on her hips.” 

     They were quick to tap your flesh, trembling as he curled his long, slender fingers around your waist. 

     “Now, listen to me,” he sighed, “Y/n, you’re gonna, like, roll your hips, BUT, you're gonna push against his stomach, NOT his crotch. Okay?? Not his crotch. Don't touch him there. Lift your hips a bit and roll them against his stomach.” 

     Yunho helped you lift your hips up a bit. You puckered your lips as you slowly pushed your hips forward. It was awkward and stiff, but you thought maybe you were doing it right. I mean, it didn’t feel like anything, so you couldn’t tell if it actually looked like you were doing anything. 

     “Does this seem right?” you whispered, continuing the slow rocking motion with his gentle guidance. 

     “Probably…” he mumbled, taking a slow, shaky breath.

     “Yunho, make sure to put on a good face for the crowd, buddy,” Wooyoung said. Yunho tensed a bit at that. You, though… immediately lifted your face from his side and stared at him. He was flushed, his eyes wide, a bit shocked at your sudden movement. 

     But you didn’t want him to make expressions like that for everyone to see. 

     You pressed your forehead against his with slightly parted lips. He was so close, his hands on your body, lips just an inch from yours. You had to close your eyes, taking slow breaths. 

     “I think this is better,” you mumbled, your nose brushing just barely against his. 

     He tried to nod, but it was just a tremble of his adorable features as he gazed at everything in front of him. 

     After a moment, everything started to slow down a bit. Your legs were relaxing, getting a bit messier in their precise movement, and you lowered just a bit. 

     He hissed, and you eyed him in confusion. Was he hurting somewhere? He shook his head, his grip on your hips tightening. He whispered something, but with his mouth so far from your ear, his voice was drowned out by the moaning and slapping throughout the room.

     So you leaned forward, your head above his shoulder, but instead of words, you were met with a low groan.

     You could hear the sudden confusion in Wooyoung’s hums on the other end. “Yunho? You good, man? What happened?”

     “I don’t think this is right,” he mumbled.

     “What do you mean?” you whispered.

     “I don’t think we’re doing it right,” he breathed, his voice starting to tremble as he let out the smallest peep of a sound against his will.

     “It’s not like I’ve done this before,” you grumbled. “It’s fine as long as it looks like we’re doing something.”

     “No, I mean-”

     “It’s fine, Yunho. We’ll be done soon anyway.”

     He dropped his forehead to your shoulder with a defeated sigh, his grip loose on your hips as he let out small, shivering sounds, some low, some soft and light. You could hardly hear them at all. 

     You didn’t really know what to do. It would be over as soon as you found your guy. You would apologize and pamper him when it was all over. 

     “He’s headed in,” Wooyoung announced. “Get his attention, please.” 

     “Wow, so polite today,” you mumbled, lifting your head just a bit to glance toward the door. 

     There he was, old, wrinkly, ugly, short. You know how it is. You wondered if he’d even be interested in you with your clothes on. Cause you were not fucking taking them off.

     You grabbed the drugs from Yunho’s pocket, hopped off his lap, and strode across the room. You caught his eye almost immediately. Without a word, you grabbed his tie and pulled his head toward yours, tapping your forehead against his.

     He looked interested already, but at the sight of what was in your hand, his pupils blew out completely. 

     ���I brought my toy with me tonight,” you said, slurring your words with a giggle. “But he’s no fun right now. Wanna join us?” 

     He was practically drooling, so you pulled away. If any of that fucking got on you, you would’ve made it everybody’s problem. 

     He nodded, but, stepping just a bit closer, you shook your head, tisking at his desperate agreement.

     “You got anything with you? Dick is no fun tonight.” You pouted a bit. 

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊° ~ ♡

     To say this was the easiest fucking mission you’d ever done just wasn’t enough. I mean, you got to climb on your man for the first time. You got to dress up and attend a fancy ball with a fancy ball gown. You didn’t have to show your face. You got what you needed without a problem.

     But then you were back in your little home, buried under the rush of the working class. Buried under the city, under the shops and the stars and the people. You and Yunho were alone.

     And to say it wasn’t the most awkwardly silent moment in your entire life simply wouldn’t give justice to the situation. Because how does one go about something so different from anything you’d ever done before? Especially when your relationship status has been set at relaxing routine for years on end. Nothing has ever changed or developed since you were teenagers. 

     Now you were sitting on your little couch, facing the wall, side by side, as there wasn’t much room for any more than just the two of you. There was never the need for any more space. Why was everything so clustered all of a sudden? Everything was so hot. You were flustered, warm, and you needed to change into something lighter. You needed to scoot just a little bit away from him. You needed some fresh air.

     You didn’t move from your spot. 

     He rubbed his palms against his pants. He must’ve been hot too. He was breathing slowly and deeply. He must’ve been flustered. He was blushing from ear to ear. He must’ve been thinking the same things.

     So neither of you moved.

     Your eyes wandered from the floor to your hands to the wall to his eyes. You both looked away. 

     Fuck, this was so embarrassing. You’d lost track of how many years you’d been together. You hardly remembered a time when you didn’t know him. And this was what it all came to?

     “I’m sorry I did that, Yuyu,” you mumbled, nibbling just slightly against your bottom lip. You promised you would apologize and pamper him until he forgave you, but that was all in the heat of the moment. You were too embarrassed now.

     “No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, almost laughing. He did that when he was beyond embarrassed. Practically humiliated. 

     “It was an inappropriate thing to do on a mission. I should have been more careful,” you sighed. 

     He did laugh then, but more because he could finally look at you and see how serious you were. Your little pout was the cutest thing.

     “I think that was a very appropriate place to do that,” he joked, grinning when you tilted your head in disbelief. He patted your knee, settling down his giggles. “It’s okay, baby. It was just a disguise.”

     “You felt good, though,” you mumbled, your head lowered as you gazed up at his cheeks, turning back to their pink flush. His hand twitched on your knee. He wanted to cover his face with his hand, but he kept it planted there, shaking his head instead.

     “I didn’t,” he denied. “You were doing what Youngie said to do, so I didn’t feel anything.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Seriously.” His voice rose, a small scoff leaving his lips when you just sat there. Yunho couldn’t let lies simmer in silent air for much longer than, like, ten seconds.

     “Well,” you started, sitting up a little straighter, “I didn’t feel anything either.” Which was mostly true. You were so focused on the heist. You didn’t have time to focus on… that.

     “Exactly,” he mumbled, eyeing you with a slight pout. “We didn’t do anything. We don’t do stuff like that.”

     “Well, I mean,” you huffed,  taking a few short, puffing breaths. “It wouldn’t be weird for us to do something like that.”

     “I just mean we haven’t,” he muttered, so quiet and muffled between his puckered lips.

     You blinked a few times, staring blankly at your hands in your lap. “We don’t even know how to do it,” you said, biting your lip as you glanced from him to the floor to him again. He had a similar blank, thoughtless expression, but you knew his mind was spinning like crazy. Just like yours. “And anyway,” you started, tilting your head from side to side as you thought, “it’s weird to start that so late, you know? Like, no one’s a virgin at twenty-four. That’s weird…” You eyed him slowly, and he was covering his mouth then, looking out the window with deep red ears. “...Right? That’s weird, right?”

     “I’m a virgin at twenty-five,” he mumbled, glancing at you. You could tell he was grinning behind his long, slender fingers. “I’m a freak, right?”

     You stared at him, thinking honestly about your answer, for just a moment before nodding. “Yeah, you’re a freak.” 

     He nudged your side with his arm with a grumble of some nonsense, words jumbled together quietly and fast.

     “Hmm?” You quirked a brow, staring at him as he avoided your eyes. “What’d you say?”

     “Nothing,” he mumbled, leaning away from you as you leaned closer, trying to catch his attention. “Nevermind,” he said, obviously fighting a smile as you poked at his side, trying to get him to look at you.

     “No~” you groaned. “What did you saaay??”

     You slipped your leg over his as he refused to look your way and sat right back down in that controversial place you’d been discussing. His lap. 

     He shut his eyes and dropped his head back to the couch cushion in disbelief. “You’ll get mad,” he mumbled.

     “I won’t,” you promised, tapping his chest as he stayed silent for another few seconds. “Were you gonna say…” you pretended to think hard, humming softly as you scooted forward on his lap. “...that you actually felt really good?” You, ever so slightly, rolled your hips forward, and his eyes squeezed tighter as his lips pressed into a thin line. He shook his head. “In a room like that? You like that? Have you been a pervert this whole time, baby?” You gasped as his eyes shot open, and you rolled your hips again. His left eye twitched, making cold contact with yours. “So I was right,” you beamed.

     “No,” he said, planting his hands on your hips and halting your tiny movements. “When did you learn to do that?” he asked, frowning deeply.

     “What do you mean, baby,” you mumbled. “Wooyoung taught me earlier today. You were there.” 

     “This is different,” he said, pushing you away slightly. 

     You shook your head. “Nuh uh. I was doing it like this earlier too.” You suppressed a giddy smile as he gazed at you, completely unimpressed. “Why? Does it feel good?”

     “Of course it does,” he grumbled, glancing from his lap to your eyes over and over like he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

     So you cupped his cheeks in your hands and focused his eyes on you. You raised your brows lightly, a soft smile on your lips. “How about a kiss?” 

     His brows twitched. “What?”

     “You know,” you mumbled, “we kiss all the time.”

     “Do we?” he questioned knowingly. 

     “We do it enough. A good amount. The amount people should, I guess.” 

     He laughed, his cheeks puffing up under your soft palms. He leaned with a small sigh into your right hand, not too tense anymore, just enjoying the view.

     “Should we kiss then?” he asked, pressing his lips together as he gazed at your flushed cheeks. You nodded, your eyes wandering around the room, sometimes flickering to his plump pink lips. 

     As he leaned forward, you quickly closed your eyes. Honestly, you didn’t remember the last time you’d kissed. You only remembered the first one, but you were sixteen. Things were definitely…

     Softer. Gentler. So, so delicate as he pressed his lips against yours. His hands left your hips to cup your cheeks, mimicking your position out of comfort or familiarity. You didn’t care much, though, because this felt really nice.

     The way you paused and let your lips melt into each other's embrace. Then you moved just slightly in no particular way. You just wanted to feel him a little more. He moved his lips along with yours, slow, slow and careful. You could feel his quiet breath through his nose, but his pulse was racing under your pinky finger on his neck. It was silent other than the soft movement of your lips. 

     You shifted closer. Maybe he wouldn’t mind so much if he was distracted. A low groan muffled against your lips and rumbled against your chest as your hips pressed against his. His lips parted but never stopped, moving just a bit faster. He moved one hand to the back of your head, his fingers sliding through your hair. He pulled your face closer. His lips urged you to work faster. Meet his demands. You opened your mouth just a bit like he was. You couldn’t find much of a common movement, but it was a mutual understanding of a growing need. Desire. 

     You flinched, though, when you felt something poke against your sensitive area. You backed your hips away in confusion, but his hands were quick to pull them back.

     “It’s okay,” he whispered, his lips giving little pecks to yours as he let you both catch your breath. “It feels good.” His hands found your back, sliding under your shirt and resting on the bare skin of your lower back. “Does it feel good, baby?” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “I think I like it.”

     “I like it,” you repeated in a soft whisper. 

     He smiled against your lips before leaving them completely. When he leaned to the side and kissed your neck so gently, you shivered with a trembling exhale. Your hands rested on his shoulder as his lips moved in little kisses along your neck. His hands slid up your hack, bunching your shirt above his arms as he raised him inch by inch, feeling your soft skin shiver under his fingertips.

     “Yunho,” you breathed, feeling completely embraced by him from every side. It was heaven, and you felt so warm, so delicate and loved.

     He giggled to himself, his lips still attached to your neck, and you scoffed in disbelief, nearly sitting up. 

     “I want to taste you so bad,” he laughed. “Is that weird?”

     “What?” you squeaked, your eyes popping out from their sockets as he held you closer to him from behind, afraid you’d run away from the confession. 

     “I mean, people do that, right?” he mumbled. “Lick and bite and stuff. That’s normal. It feels good, probably.”

     “Whatever,” you grumbled. “Do what you want.”

     He hummed against your neck, a clear smile growing on his sly lips. “Really?” 

     You didn’t answer, instead burying your face in his neck in complete embarrassment. You were so red. So dazed. And he hadn’t even done anything. This should have been nothing. But every little thing he-

     Your hand slapped to your mouth as the weirdest, grossest sound left your lips. His teeth had sunken into your neck without warning, his tongue giving little kisses of apology as he chuckled. Your breath was warm and quick against your palm as he soothed the red mark he’d left. You wanted to hit him. That felt so bad. It felt so fucking good. No, that’s weird. It shouldn’t feel good for someone to bite you. Or lick you or anything. Like, that’s weird. 

     “Baby~” he mumbled, practically whining with how pathetically he stretched it out. He lifted his head, his mouth agape as he panted and watched you with such a… how would you describe it even? It was like his pupils were starting to glaze over. Like he was high on the tension in the air. Or maybe just the look and the sound of you. 

     “What?” you mumbled shyly.

     “I didn’t know you could make sounds like that,” he said, shutting his mouth to swallow hard. “Did you?” He paused, biting his lip. “And you didn’t tell me?”

     “Obviously not,” you grumbled, looking away as you tried to wipe away his kisses on your neck, suddenly feeling a little cold without him there. But you felt hot everywhere else. There was no forgetting about that. Especially in some places. I mean, it’s not like you were the only one.

     You shook your head quickly, trying to clear your thoughts. I mean, who was going to lead everything if your man was already high on air? You had to stay level-headed. 

     His features twitched suddenly, and his eyes shot down to his lap where his… now that you’re fucking looking at it… huge bulge pressed against your… now that you’re fucking noticing it… leaking core. You were mortified, to say the least. Like, that’s disgusting. You were getting your… stuff on his pants. 

     Your eyes shot up to him, though, when he groaned at the sight. His brows curled upward desperately as he suddenly couldn’t wait another second to move on to the next part.

     “Baby,” he breathed. “Is it… fuck.” He smiled slightly, but it faded quickly, his emotions overwhelming him all at once. “Look at you,” he sighed.

     He pulled your hips closer, rubbing your clothed core against him. You shut your lips tightly as a tiny whimper escaped. He rubbed against you just the right way, sliding against your clit as he pulled you back and forth. 

     He was breathing heavily, his head resting back against the couch. He basked in the feeling, his cheeks red and features feverish. 

     You slid your fingers through his soft hair, and he leaned toward your touch, his eyes closing gently with a content sigh. You kissed his parted lips as he ground your hips against him. Your noises were muffled in each other’s lips as everything started to pick up its pace. His hands left your hips to travel up your stomach, but you kept the rhythm steady. You tilted your head as your lips moved faster and harder against his. You whimpered into his mouth as you felt his tongue lick hesitantly against your lips. You let him in, his tongue meeting yours with desperate intention. Your eyes rolled back at the taste of him, and his hands gently cupped your breasts with a low groan. 

     “They’re so soft,” he mumbled against your lips.

     “Did you think they’d be rough?” you giggled, breaking away from the kiss with a playful smack of your lips. Your smile faltered as he gave them a soft squeeze. Feeling his big hands slowly envelop your chest made you blush. Sure you weren’t insecure about your body, but his hands just made everything feel so small. Not that you minded at all.

     His thumb brushed against your nipple, and you whimpered at the sensitive touch. His ear visibly twitched as he took note of your response. He brought his fingers to your nipples and flicked them lightly, and you shivered, plopping your forehead down to his shoulder. 

     “Does that feel good?” he cooed, puckering his lips as he listened to your little hiccups of soft, airy moans as he gently pinched and caressed your aroused buds.

     Your thighs were getting weak as you lazily ground your hips down against him. One of his hands came down to your thigh and tapped it lightly before he lifted you from his lap and laid you carefully down on the couch.

     He sat between your legs resting on his heels as he gazed down at you. He ran his fingers through his messy hair and let it fall from the top of his head. His lips parted, bruised and puffy from your abuse. His eyes were glazed over, staring intently yet so dazedly at you. His cock strained thick against his pants. Fuck, all of it was making you feel so good all on your own. Just looking at him above you.

     You grabbed your shirt and stripped it over your head impatiently. You didn’t care if you were naked in front of him. You were so hot, needy, and maybe he’d take the hint and take his shirt off. That was a rare sight to see. It was a pity. Yunho had the most handsome pecs and the softest, cutest tummy. Your baby was always insecure about it, though.

     When he didn’t move, his eyes staring in complete awe at your chest, you tugged lightly at his shirt. He didn’t move his eyes from you as he tossed it over his head. You bit your lip, your hand spreading over his stomach as you engraved the sight into your mind. Who knew when he’d let you see it again?

     You quickly took your pants off, leaving you in just your pink panties as you laid back down.

     His hands caressed your thighs gently as he carefully eased your legs open, nice and wide for him. “Should I make you feel good?” he asked stroking your thighs from your hips to your knees to the dip between your thighs and your sensitive area.

     You nodded, sinking deeper into the couch as he placed a tentative thumb on the wet of your panties. He glanced from his slow rubs to your face, watching cluelessly as you breathed softly. 

     “I should just take these off,” you decided, feeling a growing frustration in your core. You needed his hands on you now. He nodded in agreement, slipping his fingers under the elastic before you could do it yourself. He hadn’t even finished getting it off your leg when he stopped to stare down at you. He shivered, exhaling with a trembling breath as he slowly reached down and parted your wet lips, revealing your pretty pussy for him. His hips bucked forward just slightly into nothing as he sat there, gazing pathetically at how wet you were. 

     “Yuyu,” you mumbled, taking one of his hands in both of yours. “Touch it more.” You pressed his fingers flat against you, sliding them slowly through your slick. He shuddered, applying just a bit of pleasure over your clit as you guided him there. You sighed, your hips squirming a bit as a gentle pleasure flowed through you. 

     “So pretty,” he whispered, watching drops of thick slick drip onto the couch and hearing the soft squelch of your juices as he gently circled your clit. His head was beginning to hang as he focused on his movement. Eventually, you let go and allowed him to work you how he wanted. Touch you how he pleased. His messy hair fell in front of his eyes, and you gently pushed up back, holding his hair so he could see well.

     Your moans were soft like sighs and tiny whimpers until he stopped his light pressure on your clit and moved to your hole. He eyed you with each movement, worried he’d hurt you or do something that didn’t feel good. As he slipped a single, long, and slender finger inside, your eyes rolled back with a long moan, and his mind spiraled with how it felt. You were so thick and creamy and warm and tight. How could you have been hiding something so perfect from him?

     “Fuck,” he whispered, his finger pulling out before he could even put it all the way in. “Y/n,” he said with a strange determination. “I change my mind.”

     “What do you mean,” you sighed. “We’re already this far.”

     He grabbed you without a word and twisted you around so you were on top of him again. Only this time, he was laying on the couch, and you were sitting on his chest, your ass practically in his face.

     “Yunho!” you squeaked in shock. “What are you doing?!” You frantically turned around to look at him, but he was long gone, his eyes focused solely on one thing.

     “I don’t want to figure everything out right now,” he mumbled. “I just wanna get to the good part.” 

     “The good part,” you scoffed. “What the hell are you doing?”

     He lifted your hips and pulled them over his face, and your cheeks grew a deep red in embarrassment and confusion and so many overwhelming thoughts. You felt his warm breath against your core, and your thighs trembled, unsure of what to do. He gently pulled you lower until your pussy was aligned with his puffy lips. You whimpered as he gave you a soft kiss.

     “Yuyu,” you mumbled, slowly lowering your chest to his stomach as your limbs started to grow weak.

     He licked a slow, fat strip between your lips, and you jolted at the wet, lude, so fucking pleasurable sensation. You raised your hips, your brows curling and mouth falling agape, but he wrapped his hands around your thighs and pulled you back down with a long groan as he did it again.

     “Fuck,” you whimpered, your voice raising an octave as your entire body trembled in his hold. It felt so good, so vulnerable, but it made it feel even better. His soft vibrations as he breathed and groaned against your core… fuck he was so hot. “Keep going,” you mumbled, your cheek pressing against his bare stomach as you let the sensation take over your senses. He kissed you and licked you in that same area you’d shown him with your hands, rolling his lips and tongue over your clit with a gentle yet eager pressure. You had to grind your pussy against his mouth. For your sanity, you had to. You were moaning and whimpering with each rhythmic roll and lick and kiss. He was fucking drowning, and he loved it, and he was eating you like the sweetest dessert, desperate to swallow every last drop. 

     If it was so easy for him, though, it couldn’t be too hard for you either. I mean, it was just sitting there, straining against his pants. You couldn’t not be curious. 

     You mustered the strength to sit up a bit and fumbled with his pants until you unzipped the zipper and unbuttoned the button. It took you much longer than it should’ve, but your hands were fucking shaking, your eyes were watering, and your mind kept shifting back to the beautiful man lapping at your pussy. Fuck, it felt so good.

     But once his length sprung loose from his pants, you wanted it inside of you. You didn’t know how big was big, but Yunho was big. It was veiny and worked up from all of the teasing, and you wanted to make him feel so good. Make you both feel good by getting it deep inside of you. But, for now, you should return the favor to your hardworking man. 

     You wrapped an eager hand around him, not sure how much pressure to apply, but by the way his hips bucked up into your hand, you were probably doing something right. You moved from the bottom to the tip slowly, smiling slightly as you saw a little bead of precum at the top. Was he liking it? You were sure he’d like anything you did to him, but he was making you feel so good. You should reward him, right?

     You swiped your thumb over the tip and spread the new lubricant around, a soft squelch delighting your ears as you set a slow rhythm. His mouthwork faltered and turned more into heavy breaths against your core. His hips were trembling with little uncontrolled rolls into the air for more friction.

     “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, giving little kisses to your clit that sent gentle bits of pleasure throughout your body. 

      “You’re really big, Yuyu,” you whispered, licking your lips as you prepared to dive in for your treat. “You think I can take it all?”

     “I don’t know,” he sighed. “You’re so tight here. I can hardly fit my tongue in.” He gave a show of sliding his sopping tongue slowly into your clenching hole, and you whimpered, grinding your pussy pathetically on his mouth.

     “Just get me nice and loose, okay?” you panted. “I’m gonna get it all inside.”

     You flattened your tongue along its length, licking from the base to the tip before pressing the tip between your lips. He was so thick, stretching your mouth just slightly as you circled your tongue around him. His hands gripped your thighs with muffled whines as he opened you up slowly on his tongue.

     “You even taste handsome,” you mumbled before taking him in your mouth again.

     You pushed just a bit deeper, keeping your hands flat on his hips in case he felt too good and accidentally choked you on his handsome cock. Yunho’s fingers made your loose mouth tighten just a bit along his length as he inserted a finger into your tight hole, and he hissed lightly. As he set a slow pace, feeling around your drenched hole for anything that felt really good, you set a pace, too, with your little head bobs. Although you couldn’t go too far down, you stroked the rest of his length with your hand.

     He let out tiny gasps and low groans as you worked him toward ecstasy. And, fuck, you could feel it too. Everything was building up. He could hardly drink everything you were leaking as he pushed two fingers in, thrusting against your gooshy walls and pulling moans from your lips. The vibrations sent shivers of pleasure through him, which made him work harder. You were pulling each other toward climax quickly, but that’s not what you wanted.

     His fingers left your hole as your body lifted from his. You wanted the pleasure back as soon as it went away, but you knew there was something so, so much better waiting for you.

     “Fuck, this is taking too long,” you groaned as you flipped over until he was between your legs once again. 

     He giggled at your impatience, but his cock was practically begging for some sort of relief before it started hurting with how hard it was. You were both desperate, not even thinking anymore. Who cared if this was your first time? The feeling was all the same. You needed to be connected. Right fucking now.

     “Fuck, put it in,” you panted, pulling him by his neck flush against you. 

     He chuckled, giving you a soft kiss on your cheek, then your neck, then your ear. “It'll hurt, baby. Even I know you’re not ready.” You groaned as he pushed two fingers into your hole, setting a quick pace as he sensed your impatience. “I’ll give you what you want,” he sighed, “if you cum once.”

     Your eyes widened. “Seriously?” You scoffed. “You don’t want our first orgasms to be together?” You fluttered your lashes as he shook his head in disbelief. He pushed in another finger, and you tensed up a bit as he began to actually stretch you open.

     “This won’t be my first,” he whispered, scissoring his fingers against your walls as you breathed heavily against his ear, gasping out of shock and jolts of pleasure. 

     “Are you serious??”

     “Ever since Sannie mentioned us having sex, I’ve been so fucking horny,” he chuckled. “I think, like, every night, I went to the bathroom and came while thinking about you.”

     His fingers were almost forced out of you as you clenched down on them, a deep blush covering your cheeks as he glanced toward you teasingly. 

     “You like that?” he asked, curling his fingers up as he thrust them in faster and faster. Your head buried into the couch cushion as you panted and moaned, lifting your hips to meet his fingers desperately. The pleasure was building, and every time he fucked his fingers into that one spot, you thought you’d fall apart right there. When he finally figured out that perfect spot, he rammed his fingers into it repeatedly until you were gasping for air as your entire body squirmed, working toward that release. 

     “Fuck, fuck, fuck-!” you whined, “Yunho~” He kissed you gently, nibbling on your neck as he grunted softly, using all of his strength to keep his rhythm as your eyes rolled back, body trembling. The pleasure built and built until everything fucking crashed, and your nails dug into his arms as you came with a long cry. He rode out your high, stroking your walls gently before pulling his fingers out quickly. 

     “Good girl,” he sighed, kissing your forehead as you whimpered, trying to calm down. Your eyes could hardly focus on one thing, your eyes fuzzy and brain scrambled. “I’ll give you what you want,” he mumbled. “Such a good girl…”

     His cock pressed against your hole, and it pushed just slightly inside. You winced, your eyes squinting at the oddly painful stretch. I mean, you knew it would be painful, but this was a bit unnecessary, right…? 

     Yunho stopped and lifted his head with a small smile on his lips, and, as much as it felt much better to stay still than to move, you wanted to get to the part that felt good. 

     “Baby, please?” you whispered, looking from one eye to another as you fought the urge to just get on top of him and put it in yourself.

     “Did I make you feel good?” he asked, pointing to his lips. “With my mouth?”

     You nodded immediately. “Yup, it felt so good.” It did, but that didn’t fucking matter right then.

     “You tasted really good,” he mumbled. “And your mouth…” he licked his lips, “...felt so good. So wet and tight.”

     “My pussy will feel even better, baby, please.” You didn’t want to whine or beg, but this was getting ridiculous.

     “Your pussy likes me, I think,” he thought aloud. “You know it flutters when I do something it likes. I wonder what that’ll feel like when I’m inside.”

     As his hips became flush with yours, you whimpered in slight confusion, a bit uncomfortable, but mostly confused, and also so, so fucking full. He was shivering softly, but you couldn’t find yourself having such small reactions. He was enveloping you completely, filling you to the brim, and your entire body was tense and limp, weak but so hyper at the same time. 

     Your fingers grabbed his hair with one hand and gripped his shoulder with the other, your mouth agape as you brought him closer frantically. You pulled his chest to yours, his face to your neck, your leg around his hip.

     It wasn’t because it hurt at all. It just felt so inexplicably good that you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You wanted him to move so bad, but you couldn’t let him move or you'd completely lose yourself to pleasure. 

     “Yunho,” you whimpered, holding him tighter, desperately. “Yuyu, fuck… ’s so go..ood… j’s stay here… stay here, b…by, ‘s so good~”

     He could hardly understand you, but he was so glad you weren’t letting him move. He would cum right then and there. You were so tight. So tense, squeezing him like crazy. You were so warm and wet… It was clouding his mind. Even locked down like this, his hips couldn't help gently grinding against you, looking for any kind of friction. 

     He wanted to pound into you, fuck. He wanted to watch you go crazy. He hadn’t even done anything yet. Imagine what you’d look like, completely broken and fucked out, overtaken by your desire.

     “Can I kiss you, baby?” You nodded quickly, letting him lift his head so he could smash his puffy lips to yours. He untangled your limbs from his and wasted no time in slowly shifting his cock in your sopping hole. He groaned happily, rolling his eyes back as he ground inside of you in little pulses. 

     “Yuyu~” you whined. “Please, please, baby…” You kissed him hard before he could speak, desperately pushing your hips against him. “More... Fuck~” you whimpered, your fingers running through his hair as your tongues lapped and tangled together desperately.

     Finally… FINALLY, he set a rhythm, slow and trembling, as you panted against each other’s lips. He rolled his hips, his hips gently tapping yours with each slide in. He reached so far, your pussy tight around him, sending shivers throughout your bodies. You bit your lip as breathy moans escaped. 

     He cursed under his breath, whimpering as he kissed you lazily, picking up the speed of his thrusts. As your hips collided with more force, your moans matched the pace, and he basked in your pretty noises, hardly able to contain his own. 

     His hands slid along your body and squeezed your soft stomach gently, gripping you as he thrusted harder. “Everyday,” he groaned, kissing your ear. “We’ll do this every day.”

     “Okay,” you panted, your eyes rolling back with a squeak as he hit that perfect spot with a particularly hard thrust. “Mm… Yuyu… ngh~ you’re doing so good~”

     “Yeah?” he mumbled, sitting up on his legs. It was cold, but the sight of your tits bouncing, your fucked out expression… you were so ruined.

     “Yeah, baby~” you hummed.

     “I’ve wanted to fill you up for a.. hh… while now,” he grunted. “Thought about your pretty pussy taking my cock.”

     “Me too mmm~” His brows curled as he took steadying breaths. 

     “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groaned.

     “I wan’d t-to touch you s…o bad,” you moaned, pushing your hips in the air as his pace quickened, his hands grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer. “Thought I was being bad,” you panted. “But yo…ou were being bad too, huh?” You tried to give a playful smirk, but it faded quickly. 

     He nodded eagerly, his head dropping each thrust and little noise from your lips brought him so close to cumming. He desperately brought his fingers to your clit, circling the nub until you were a moaning mess, practically screaming and gasping as he slammed his hips against yours. 

     “Cum, baby, please?” he begged, biting his lip as you fluttered around him clenching and teasing as you were getting so, so close. “Come on,” he whimpered. “Wanna f-feel you, please.. ngh~”

     Your hips were squirming, jaw dropped as the pleasure built. You could hardly see through your tears, your clit adding to the pleasure of each of his ecstatic thrusts. Fuck, you were so close… so close… fuck, it felt so good.

     “Yu-ngh yuyu ah~ baby, don’t stop,” you moaned, your eyes squeezing shut forcefully as your pleasure reached its peak for the secind time that night, your body spasming as you creamed on his cock, your juices spilling from your hole and soaking the both of you. 

     He stilled after a single thrust in your clenched, orgasm-filled hole, whimpering and moaning as his cum spilled into you. He was trembling as he kept cumming hard and long, both of you panting as you tried to calm down. Your hearts were beating, cheeks wet with overwhelmed tears. He pulled out with a shudder and collapsed beside you, pulling you to his chest as he was hit with the raw cold air.

     You were shivering, wrapped in his arms as you tried to clear your head. You were content there, your mind fuzzy and limbs trembling. You were both completely exhausted, but Yunho took the initiative to bring you both to your feet and drag your legs toward the shower. 

     He wiped you both up, laid you both down on the bed, snuggled up in your blanket, and you were both instantly asleep.

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊° ~ ♡

     “Y/n~ Yunho~” San whined as he trudged into your bedroom. “Jongho was being mean to me again~” 

     Your eyes were hardly opening when San was inviting himself onto the bed. But he stopped as he saw Yunho’s shirtless body wrapped around your shirtless body. He gasped, nearly falling off the bed.

     “Y/n!” he yelled, and Yunho was spooked awake, raising his head in shock with his eyes hardly open. “Did he force himself on you?! You can tell me! I’ll get him fucking killed!” He pointed at Yunho angrily, but you just rolled your eyes, snuggling back into your pillow.

     “Sannie?” Yunho mumbled, trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes. “What are you doing here? Did you have a bad dream again?”

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊° ~ ♡

     The van was rowdy and noisy when you and Yunho hopped in. You sat beside him with a giddy smile, holding his hand as you all rode to your hideout as usual. 

     “Aw~ they’re so cute,” Seonghwa cooed. “You guys are the ideal romance. So wholesome and perfect.” He grinned at you, and you blushed lightly.

     “Than-”

     “No, they have sex now,” Jongho interrupted. “Everyone knows that.”

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

what do the rouges think of cardinal?

OHHHHH What a lovely question <33

Since i've yet to write in Cardinal in a scene beyond his desk work- these might change.

Cardinal acts well- like a cryptic?? It's a complete coin toss how he will behave, if he will turn the creepy to 100% and speak in tounge's (its a mix of latin and greek) But when he DOES respond its through a heavy voice modulater.

However if you want specifics?? (also some extra lore of some rouges no longer active- both due to. Cardinals interference and BECAUSE I SAID SO)

Joker- They are a menace, never once humors his schemes- he knows the moment Cardinal gets involved his fun is ruined. Therefore he hates their guts. (Cardinal is reported 10x more brutal when faced with the Joker)

Scarecrow- Self proclaimed "Arch enemy" of Cardinal since hes never once sucseeded in drugging them, and he longs to know what would make the little bird sing. (Cardinal is said to have an entire pocket dedicated to backup rebreathers, usually lets the bats take over)

Riddler- LOVES Cardinal so so much- they are like best friends (no no they are not) Cardinal seems to enjoy his puzzles and he's able to pull out ones even the Batman would struggle with. Sometimes an informant for a good game. (Cardinal will admit, out of all the rouges? He doesn't mind Riddler- just with less hostages)

Harley- Thinks they are strange, even more strange than the bats. But more than anything concerning- their behaviors raise a ton of red flags but she doubts she can convince them to therapy, though it is her goal. (Cardinal is... unsure about Harley, she's changed- but memories are hard)

Ivy- Theres a mutual respect- Though out of all the vigilantes Cardinal seems to fear her the most, the last time being hit by her pollen they freaked out enough Harley made her give over the antidote. They definently fight, but she does try and hold back some of her more underhanded stuff. (Cardinals suit got several more layers after that incident)

Mr.Freeze- Reformed villain now, as a result of Cardinal. Aka when he first did his villain monologue to them- they had spoke (for the first time to ANY rouge) and asked to see his blue prints. A few years later his suit was fortified to help him live a somewhat normal life, and his wife had been cured. They got their life back. Leaving Gotham soon after, but he still checks in on ocassion (Cardinal never responds though, but they're happy with the updates- that he was able to help)

Catwoman- Annoying, but interesting for sure. It seems no matter how elaborate her scheme they always seem to pop in and just stare or even wave. The most interesting thing though? They never stop her. Certian locations she robs they will return the item (usually museums) but have never once tried to actually take her in. If anything shes half convinced they throw the bats off her trail, its interesting. (She never steals from anyone who cant afford to replace it, and honestly her stuff goes to a good cause-)

Clayface- Never became a villain- After his accident, Dagget had been shut down long before so Matt Hageb he had no accsess to the cream. With the help of his coworker (and future husband) Teddy Lupus he got the help he needed. Drake Industries came out with an amazing prosthesis program that helped construct a whole new face. Now Mr & Mr Lupus live in upper west side of Gotham where they now raise two daughters going to Gotham Academy.

Blackmask- Hates their fucking guts. People think Cardinal comes down on the Joker hard? They're practically suffocating Black Mask movements- buisness is failing and at this rate he's trying to put out a hit on the fucker. (The hates their guts is mutual)

Two face- Instead of going to the Manori trial- Harvey had an emergency call from a very panicky Bruce who suddenly had CPS knocking at his door about Dick. The delay finding a new attorney meant Manori was found with the acid and held for attempted assault while Harvey was scot free. He owns his own law firm now and has continued to be a close confident to Bruce and "Uncle" to the kids. (Cardinal cried when he first found out about Harvey, that he was okay- he thought it had been too late.)

Penguin- Cardinal is a pain in their ass, not as much as Black mask but still just enough that he doesnt hold back when attacking. The ONLY saving grace from absolute hatred is Cardinal outright refuses to fight any of his birds, and will even go as far as to save some of them when the bats are too careless to notice a penguin slipping off a roof. (Cardinal wishes Penguin would stop dragging actual penguins into his shit- even with guns they're just too cute)

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

I’m just going to throw down my thoughts now real quick. Someone is obviously going to get taken over by Fyodor. This takeover seems to require blood to activate. Here are the potential options, rated lowest to highest by my own personal interest.

Random character we’ve never met - the easy and boring answer. Fyodor will body snatch one of the vampire guards he was communicating with. Fair amount of likelihood since he could easily have made the transfer of blood at any point, though I’m not sure yet if it needs to be an instantaneous thing or if his blood can lie dormant. Either way I think it’s a bit of an ass-pull with no stakes on our cast so I’m hoping this isn’t the case.

A named character outside Meursault - Probably someone he’s had a lot of contact with, so Fukuchi. This depends on the blood having a latency period and is also insanely contrived. I actually hate it more than the random guard.

The Catgirl thief - I’m assuming this is extremely unlikely since the host needs to be alive. But anyways. Women lovers here’s how we lose even worse.

Having said this now, I think it’s fairly obvious it has to be one of the other Meursault four. This is appropriately thematic and tragic, given that all of them place a lot of value on free will and self-determination, which a takeover by Fyodor would rob them of.

Chuuya - He spent a lot of time around Chuuya to be sure but there’s no blood on him. If there’s a latency period though, it is possible. I’m not feeling this one though, to be honest. I don’t see what narrative purpose it serves - Chuuya hasn’t had enough of a role in the manga for this to mean much, other than royally pissing Dazai off (which to be fair is definitely in character for Fyodor). I think it far more likely that Chuuya is going to be a witness for whatever comes next.

Sigma - High likelihood. He did get stabbed and had the memory transfer. I can’t remember whether Fyodor touched him with his wounded hand. It would be brutal for this to happen to him after he’d just broken free from his manipulation. But honestly I don’t know that Sigma getting taken over is all that interesting. For one, they’re going to need his knowledge (though that may be a reason for Fyodor to off him truthfully), and for another, I just don’t think Sigma’s… done enough as a character. I feel it would kind of render his arc in Meursault pointless to end his story here.

Nikolai - The most likely possibility to me. He is holding Fyodor’s severed hand, which he touched to his face. Fyodor’s ability probably kickstarts after his death, and Nikolai was the first to get his blood on him. Sadly, I suspect that if this is the case, this will be the end for Nikolai. If he gets taken over, I can’t see a reason or method to restore him to himself. What a horribly tragic end this would be to our favourite clown, his freedom snatched away for good by the one person he couldn’t help but get attached to.

Dazai - I dismissed this off-hand at first. Of course I did, Dazai is immune to abilities. I also want to be clear that I seriously doubt Asagiri will off his favourite boy like this. But oh man. What if Fyodor’s ability isn’t an ability, much like in the first skk manga team up? What if them both being there is a call-back to Rimbaud who snatched corpses, and Lovecraft who could hurt Dazai? What if Fyodor really has become no longer human - and this is the proof? I was kind of hoping the Meursault arc would end with Dazai (temporarily!) out of the picture, and this would be a way to do it - Atsushi and Akutagawa would have to step up, Chuuya could be more relevant. We could even have more Kyouka if what I’m starting to wonder is true - that Fyodor was involved in the death of her parents. At the same time, Dazai’s special boy plot armour nullification and mysteriousness gives us a plausible reason to bring him back. And all the while maybe they could continue their mind games, with Dazai being an annoying little pest in the back of Fyodor’s mind.

[frenziedslashers]

Hi there! I would like a request a OS about Peter B Parker x Fem! Reader as a married couple Smut (Reader is Mayday's mother). The Reader is like Starfire (An alien superheroine and a beautiful hot like fire (literally, since her powers comes from the sun) person married to a human) Like Malewife and Girlboss...So when Peter comes home, she's taking care of her daughter meanwhile he was on patrol, so she put her daughter on bed time. She wants to have a night of "fun" with her husband. Taking good care of him with a bath and a dinner so then the "fun" can come. With a purple robe and a sexy lavender lingerie. I can leave the smut part to you with some recommendations Lactation Kink, Praise kink, "Mommy" kink, Oral (Female and male receiving), Creampie, maybe 69 position...

Take good care 🥰

Early Nights Off;;

A/N: Dude, I am literally blowing you kisses and hugging you platonically through my laptop rn. I was smiling and kicking my feet when I saw that you nearly instantly sent me a request for Peter. I am so in love with him, I love my silly goofy DILFs hehe. I have never written for a lactation kink before so I will not be doing that as I do not know how and Idk how comfortable I am with it LMAO I will try and interoperate the rest into this for you though. Thank you again, literally my savior for my brain rot rn. HE IS SO MALEWIFE THOUGH, YOU ARE SO REAL. I hope this is good enough, this is my first Peter fic haha.

Warnings: Breeding Kink (I just know he has one after Mayday.), Praise Kink, "Mommy" Kink sort of?, Oral (F and M Receiving), Creampie (Wrap it before you tap it guys), Reader is an alien (Not proofread, sorry lmao)

Any other day it would be easy for Peter to patrol the city all night. Even if the crime activity was little to nothing. He could spend all day and night swinging from building to building. It beat sitting at home with nothing to do.

Except now he had a reason to be home. Even before the two of you had Mayday, and it was just you. He found himself crawling through the window of your shared apartment earlier and earlier each night. You were his weakness, and he was never ashamed to admit it.

After you gave him his first kid though. There were some nights that he wouldn't go out at all. Too enraptured by baby Mayday to even think about leaving your cozy home. Playing with the baby. Watching you nurture and care for her. Being a dad was something he enjoyed a lot more than he ever thought he would. He had Miles to thank for breaking his fear of kids.

Tonight was one of his early nights. Calling it quits after all he found for crime activity was a man robbing a woman of her purse. Cliché and typical, but he put a stop to it nonetheless. Getting the woman's purse back while also tying the attacker up in front of the New York Police Department with a letter attached to him.

'Caught him robbing a lady, you're welcome. - Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.'

He wondered if they ever actually took in and charged the people he left on their doorstep like that. Or if they simply untied them and let them run because they had no proof they actually did anything wrong? That was a question for another time, though. Right now he was focused on opening the bedroom window. Crawling in and shutting it behind him to keep the muggy air outside from entering the room.

He was quick to take the suit off. Figuring he wouldn't need it for the rest of the night. Pulling a grey shirt on that hung on the side of the bed. Keeping only his boxers on to allow his body to cool down from the warmer conditions outside.

You were in the living room. Comfortable pajamas on while you lulled Mayday to sleep in your arms. A soft hum leaving your throat as you rocked her back and forth. He had to stop and watch for a while. Leaning against the door frame that led him from your shared room to the living room.

"You're back early," you cooed. At times he wished you didn't have the ability to sense him like he could you. It was nice sometimes, though. Not at times that he wanted to just sit and watch you mother his baby.

"I missed my beautiful girls," he murmured, that smug smile gracing his features. You were glad to have looked up and seen it.

"Well, I just fed her and got her to sleep." you informed, and he nodded. Licking his lips while his eyes raked over you. Practically undressing you and imagining all the things he could do to you right now. It had been so long since the two of you had any time to each other. That seemed to be one of the few, if not only down falls to being parents. Sex felt scarce, but that didn't mean it was totally absent from your lives.

"I think I might shower while you lay her down," he spoke, shifting his feet as he went to turn back for the bathroom down the hall. "Or I could run you a bath while I make you something to eat?" you offered and he just couldn't say no.

He smiled, nodding his head while staring you down. So much love and adoration was in his eyes. He was perfect. Mayday was perfect. You were perfect.

"What man could say no to that offer?" He snickered, to which you rolled your eyes. Smiling fondly at your husband while you stood to your feet. Kissing his cheek when you made it over to him. "I'll get that bath running then," you hummed. Heading for Maydays room to put her to bed. Shutting the door behind you before you scurried off for the bathroom. Swaying your hips a little more than normal since you knew he was staring.

He was, too. His eyes eating you up like candy while they took in your form. God, he could eat you alive.

The water was the perfect temperature. The soaps that you put in it had him melting into the atmosphere. Everything was perfect. He couldn't ask for anything better. When you came walking in with food, and that skimpy bathrobe that drove him crazy. He was certain you were praying on his downfall.

"You spoil me," he told you as he took a plate from your hand. Watching as you sat on the edge of the tub with your own plate in hand. The both of you eating together. Peter a little more eager than you. He loved his food.

"Only because you spoil me in return," you grinned. He raised a questioning brow. Taking a bite of the Mac and Cheese that you warmed up from the night before. "How? I don't make enough money to spoil you. You spoil me more that I do you, and it's a little unfair," he pouted a bit. He hated the fact that he couldn't spoil you like he wanted to, but you never seemed to mind. Everything was fine the way it was.

"You find your ways, Pete," you hummed as you put your plate on the sink counter. Climbing off the tub so you could kneel on the floor next to the tub. His eyes were glued to yours. A questioning glint to them that begged for you to explain further.

"You don't need money to spoil someone. You pamper me with little things. Like your affection and how romantic you can be," you smiled, because he truly was a sap. He loved spending nights cuddling with you. Kissing over your body while reminding you how beautiful you were. Praising you for carrying his baby. Your baby. Making dinner for you on the nights that you couldn't bring yourself to. Or simply taking you and Mayday to the park to get some ice-cream and be a family.

"If it weren't for you, I probably would have never had little Mayday, either," you admitted, and he raised a brow. "Really?" He questioned, and you nodded.

"I never really wanted kids. Not until we started dating. You made me realize that I don't need to be scared of that sort of commitment ever again. You gave me a beautiful daughter," he felt his heart racing at your words. "I never really wanted a kid before you, either. It scared me, being a superhero and all." You both chuckled at that. Staring at one another for a moment or two.

"I guess we both spoiled each other in that department," you told him, and he nodded. "Guess so."

When Peter and yourself finally finished eating, that's when you helped him wash his hair. Something that he was going to do himself, but when you offered to do so. He just laid back and let you.

Your fingers pulled through his hair. Nails scratching his scalp just right while you spread the shampoo. A soft moan leaving his lips while his eyes fell shut. It had you smiling to yourself. Biting your bottom lip to try and keep it from growing any wider.

You leaned in to press a kiss to his shoulder. Your hands trailing down his chest while you leaned in closer to his ear. Peter's eyes opening when he felt your breath on his ear. His eyes trailing down to your chest. Catching a glimpse of the lavender bra under your bathrobe. The thought of you in lingerie had him grunting. His cock twitching to life under the water. It had been too long since the two of you had done anything like this. Something that wasn't a quickie before he left for work after his lunch break, while Mayday was down for her afternoon nap.

"God, I love you so much," he muttered, and you giggled. Pressing a kiss to his temple. "Scoot down so I can wash your hair out, goofball," you teased, and he felt his heart thumping. "Yes Ma'am."

Once his hair was all washed it was time for him to call it a night. Eyes begging for you to take him to the bedroom so you could both fuck like rabbits. Before Mayday that's what it felt like you two were. Primal Animals that only knew how to fuck or make love. Whatever mood Peter was in that night deciphered how he screwed you.

Tonight he wanted to pamper you. To really spoil you since he knew you planned to do the same to him. Gosh, "I'd do anything to be between those thighs," He murmured out loud. A dumbstruck look on his face. He hadn't even noticed he said it out loud, and you knew it. A giggle escaping your lips while you leaned forward. Ghosting your lips over his. "Not if I'm between yours first," you cooed, and he shuddered.

His face was a slight red out of embarrassment. He hadn't meant to say that to you out loud, but it wouldn't be the first lewd thing he'd ever said to you. Peter was fairly good at telling you what he wanted and how he wanted to do it. The more lust filled he got, the less of a sensor he had.

It was like a race for the both of you. Peter standing from the tub while flicking the switch so the water would drain. Scrambling out of it while you laughed and giggled with him. The both of you doing your best to be quiet so Mayday wouldn't wake up.

You ran for the bedroom. Feet pattering against the wooden floor while he did the same. Shutting the door behind himself before he pulled you in for a kiss that he craved. One that you both craved, really.

"I know you're wearing it," he spoke against your lips. Pulling the string of your bath robe so it would fall open. He was quick to pull back so he could see your frame better. "You still like it?" You asked, and he was quick to nod. His fingers running up your sides to your breasts. Giving them both a light squeeze with a groan. "Baby, I never want you to take it off," he chuckled, and you both knew that was a lie. By the end of the night he'd have it ripped off you and in a pile on the floor.

His lips came in contact with your neck. Fiery touches that you would never get used to. Your own powers were controlled by the sun, yet this heat was always so unfamiliar to you. So nice.

"Peter," you sighed as he sucked on your skin. Your body jolting when his fingers pinched your nipples through your bra. "You're so gorgeous, you know that?" He asked against your skin. Licking over your collar bone. You chuckled with a nod, "You tell me all the time," "Yeah, well I don't say it damn near enough." You rolled your eyes at his comment, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. "Yeah, and I don't tell you how good of a boy you are for me enough, either," he let out a grumble of a moan against your skin. It was so easy to rile him up, you loved it.

"May I?" You asked, ghosting your fingertips over his shaft, and he nodded. "Words, Peter," you demanded, and he shuddered. "Yes... Yeah, please," he mewled, and you snickered. He was already a mess.

You shrugged the robe off, allowing it to fall to the floor to give his hands more access to your skin. Your hand quick to reach between your lovers legs and grab him. Giving him a slow stroke before stopping to squeeze the base. His head fell onto your shoulder. A sigh leaving his lips while he gripped your hips.

"I need you," he called, "God, I need you so bad, don't tease me," he cried a little, and you had half a mind to listen, but you didn't want to. You had other plans for the night. You wanted to draw out this time you both had together for as long as you could.

"No," you purred, and the whine that he let out was heavenly. "Now, don't pout, Petey," you purred, "be a good boy for me and I'll reward you," he nodded frantically. He just wanted you to carry on and do something. Anything.

When you started to drop to your knees he felt his heart stutter in his chest. Everywhere your hands grazed as you slid down to the floor was on fire. At this point he couldn't tell if it was from his excitement, or if you were doing it yourself.

Your hand stroked his shaft a couple more times. Peter watching with excited eyes. His thighs shaking while he fought the urge to thrust forward.

"You can touch me, Peter," you told him, and he nodded. His shaky hands coming to tangle in your hair. One staying on the top of your head while the other came to cup the side of your face.

"Will you be good?" You asked, and he nodded. "I know you will," you hummed, kissing his hip. Listening to the moan that left his throat just from having your lips so close to where he wanted you the most. He craved you to the point that it hurt.

When you did finally reach his cock, the noise he made was unreal. Your eyes darting up to his with warning. One of his hands shot up to cover his mouth. A soft 'sorry, my love,' falling from his lips. He truly didn't mean to be as loud as he was. He could never help it. He prayed that one day the two of you could find a babysitter for Mayday so neither of you had to hold back as much as you both did.

Your head bobbed and he felt his knees shaking all ready. His brow knitting together while his chest began to heave. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. You were like an angel. On your knees, committing sin. The thought made him shudder. A hum rumbling from his chest while his head lolled to the side. "Feels so... Good," he purred, and you hummed in response. The vibration sending a wave of pleasure through his body. Both hands shooting to the top of your head so he could stable himself. His mouth slightly parted while his vision grew blurry from the tears that pricked the corners of his eyes.

"God, like that, shit," he spewed out words. You knew he was close, even if you couldn't sense it like he could sense your own approaching orgasms. You would know from how many times you've made him cum in your relationship.

You didn't allow him to, though. Another groan leaving his lips while he buckled forward. His hips thrusting forward a little in an attempt to chase your mouth. "Dammit, I was so close," he slurred, and you chuckled. Leaving an open mouthed kiss on the side of his cock. "I know, and you did so good for me baby," you purred, and he whined. He had such mixed feelings for your praising tease. He loved it, but he also despised it.

"How about I reward you now?" You asked, looking up to your lover with a grin. He was quick to nod in agreement. Licking his lips while he waited anxiously for what you had to say next.

"You wanna fill me up tonight?" "You have no idea," he practically growled. The sound of his voice. The switch from whiny to damn near feral. It went straight to your core. Your breath hitching as he helped pull you to your feet. Pushing you back until you were on the bed.

He fell on top of you. Caging your body with his own. Something seemed to snap in his eyes and it excited you more than taking control over him. It wasn't often that you let him be in complete control, but right now. All you could think of is what he had said in the tub.

"You still want your head between my thighs?" You asked, and his eyes were quick to meet yours again. A smirk pulling at his lips while he stared down at you. "I'd live there if I could, baby," you both chuckled a little at this, but you both knew it was true, too. There were some mornings that you'd wake up to his head between your thighs. Eating you like you were his last meal on earth. He'd just give you head if you'd let him. He never really expected anything in return from you.

He lips crashed down onto yours. A kiss that had you both gasping for air when he was done. Teeth on teeth that led to his tongue exploring your mouth.

His hands were on their own mission. Scaling your body. Taking in every dip and curve that you had. Memorizing you like he did every other time he touched you. If he didn't have any other responsibilities, he could stay in this position with you forever. Touching your body while kissing you with fervor.

One of his hands cupped your breast. The other resting on your thigh. His lips finally parting from yours with a string of saliva still connecting you both. A smug and dreamy smile on his face. "I love you," he hummed, and you giggled. "I love you, too," you told him, and his smile grew. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have you.

His lips trailed over the top of your breasts. Kissing and sucking. Leaving little marks on the soft skin. His hand on your thigh sliding up your body so he could take both of your breasts in his hands. Squeezing and toying with your sensitive mounds of flesh. Your back arching with soft noises that left your throat. Every sound that you made only fed his ego more than it did before.

His mouth replaced one of his hands. Mouthing over the thin fabric that his your nipples from the air. Saliva wetting your skin through the fabric. A sharp inhale coming from you when he nipped your sensitive skin. Your fingers gripping his shoulders while he teased your body. He knew what drove you crazy. Just like you knew what drove him crazy.

His free hand trailed down to your panties. His hand cupping your sex with a moan. He could feel how hot you were down there and it drove him wild. His middle and index finger running over your mound. Feeling how wet you were through the fabric of the lingerie. It was intoxicating him. Just as much as his touch was intoxicating you.

His mouth switched over to your other breast. Biting the flesh while he pushed your panties to the side to slip his middle finger inside of you. A gasp leaving your throat while you tugged at his hair. "Pete!" you snapped, and he grunted, "'M sorry, you're just so good," he moaned against your skin. His now free hand reaching behind you to undo the bra that kept him from your bare skin. Gibing him the chance to abuse your nipples without the fabric in the way. Though, it didn't last long before his mouth was trailing down your stomach. Leaving wet kisses on his way down.

Once he met your clothed sex with his face he felt himself growing impatient. Nudging your clothed clit with his nose. "You're so pretty like this," he sounded drunk. He practically was. Anytime he had sex he was. He was intoxicated by you. You were his perfect drug.

His fingers hooked your underwear. Pulling them down your legs and tossing them to the side. Peter blew on your sex. Keeping your legs apart with his strong grip. "Stay still for me, please," he asked, looking up with pleading eyes. Though there was a hint of command behind them that had you clenching around nothing. You only nodded your head in agreement, which had him smiling.

He was quick to get to work. Licking up your slit. Your breath hitching while your fingers tangled in his hair. His hips bucking down into the bed to try and gather some sort of friction for himself.

He licked at your sensitive bud. Licking and sucking until you were squirming and on the verge of tears. Biting the back of your hand to hold back the cries that tried to bleed from your mouth.

"Taste so good," he rambled. Reaching a hand down to push two fingers inside you. Curling them up, then dragging them out. Slipping the digits past his lips to take a taste. Moaning around his fingers before slipping them out. "Heavenly," he sighed, before diving in once again. Lapping you up like a dog.

It wasn't long before you were summing on his tongue. You told him you were close, but he knew. Only abusing your clit until you were convulsing underneath him. If it weren't for you pushing his head away, he would have made you cum again, too.

"Peter, please," you cried, and he looked up from between your legs. "Just one more time," he tried to plea. Leaning down to lick your clit again. Your body jolting at the overstimulating feeling. "Peter, if you aren't inside me in the next ten seconds I swear to God," you snapped, and he smirked. "All right, all right," he chuckled, kissing your stomach before pulling himself up so he was positioned between your thighs.

He moved above you for a moment or two. Just staring down at you with those adoring eyes. You hated how he looked at you sometimes. It made your heart ache and wish that you had met him sooner than you had. He always made you feel so special and so loved.

"I want another kid," he blurted, "Maybe a little boy, he could have your eyes," he daydreamed out loud, and you nearly laughed. Yet, you couldn't. You only stared back up at him. Hearts practically in your eyes while you reached up to cup the sides of his face. "Only if he has your smile," he chuckled at your words. Leaning down to nuzzle your nose with his. "Is that a yes to baby number two?" He snickered, reaching down to rub your stomach. He was obsessed with you, and he couldn't get over the thought of you carrying another one of his kids. He was already crazy for you, but seeing you pregnant with his child? It did things to him, and you knew it, too. He wasn't shy about it.

"You like being a mommy?" He hummed, and you nodded, "Only for you," you chuckled, and he snickered. "You're a good one too. So loving, caring, rewarding," he winked with the last word, and you rolled your eyes. Swatting his chest. "Peter," he shrugged. "You are, I'm glad you are, too. Mommy. It's a good title for you," He cooed, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.

"Peter, it's been over ten seconds," you reminded him, wrapping your legs around his waist. Bringing your hips up to meet his. The both of you shuddering at the friction. "All right," he sighed out, but instead of pressing himself inside of you like you wanted. He pulled away from you. A frown settling on your lips. "What?" "Hands and knees, now," you stared for a second. It never ceased to surprise you when he ordered you around, but you never really complained about it either.

Once you were maneuvered around he was quick to pull you closer to him by your hips. Leaning down to kiss the dip of your back. "Gonna fill you full," he murmured against your skin, rubbing the tip of his dick along the slit of your sex.

"Shit, Peter," you wined, leaning down to lay the side of your face on the bed. Peter let out a moan at the position you put yourself in. Ass in the air, face in the sheets. You were gorgeous.

He hushed you, biting his lip while putting his fingers against your lips. You sucked them into your mouth and he swore it was one of the hottest things you've done.

When he pressed inside of you, you both fought to stay quiet. Peter was practically falling apart above you. The thought of fucking a baby into you had him harder than he had expected. His hips giving a few testing rolls to make sure you were wet enough. Only moving when you gave a nod.

His thrusts were slow at first. Rolling against you with rhythm. Until they weren't. Until you begged him to move fasted and he had to listen to you.

Both of his hands were on your hips now. His own hips thrusting in and out of you at a past that had your whole body trembling. You pawed and gripped at the sheets. One of his hands keeping hold of your hip while the other reached for one of your hands. Intertwining his fingers with your own. Even while he was fucking you dumb he showed so much affection for you. It was almost overwhelming.

Peter leant over you. Pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade while he panted and moaned in your ear. The sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. The faster he got the further you got smothered into the bed. He was chasing that high that the both of you craved. When he felt his approaching, he was quick to reach between your thighs to rub your clit with the speed of his thrusts. Bringing the both of you to the highs that you desired. His hips slowing while he rolled out his orgasm and rubbed out your own.

Peter lay limp above you. His chest heaving on top of your back. One hand running up and down your side while the other squeezed and rubbed at your hand.

"One more?" He asked, and you chuckled. "Your libido's too high for your own good, Peter," you sighed, and he chuckled. Pulling out of you which caused the both of you to groan with distaste. "I'm not hearing a no?" He questioned with a brow raised. Helping you roll onto your back. "One more," you told him with a nod, and he grinned. "Maybe two?" "Pete, don't push it," you giggled, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck. Peter laughing into the kiss he gave you.

[maaarine]

The sexual assault of sleeping women: the hidden, horrifying rape crisis in our bedrooms (Anna Moore, The Guardian, June 15 2021)

"Naming specific acts, rather than using broad – and loaded – terms such as “abuse” or “rape”, her survey asked more than 22,000 women if, for example, they had ever been spat at, or strangled, kicked or bitten.

It also asked respondents if they had ever woken to their male partner having sex with them or performing sex acts on them while they slept.

To this question, 51% answered yes.

This was not randomised sampling – the survey was widely shared online and participants were self-selected. For this reason, it’s hard to extrapolate from the findings.

The results sparked a predictably polarised online response. “This was extremely validating for me after years of thinking, ‘Am I being raped?’ I’m not alone”, tweeted one woman.

“It’s why I now jerk awake if someone even gently brushes against me while I’m sleeping, 13 years later,” wrote another.

Other comments included, “Only chance I get!” and “the other half was OK with it!”

Katie Russell, spokesperson for Rape Crisis, says she was “not massively surprised” by the findings.

“There isn’t a lot of research into the multiple ways women experience violence from known men, but we do know the numbers are so much higher than any official statistics,” she says.

“Rape myths are still incredibly pervasive. It’s commonly believed that if it’s your boyfriend or your spouse, if you’re sharing a bed, if you’re naked, if you consented earlier, then it can’t be rape.

There is a really big difference between gently waking your partner and initiating sexual activity and actually doing something sexual or penetrating someone while they’re still asleep. (…)

In Martha’s case, the rape happened once, but for some men, seeking sex with a sleeping woman is an active preference, a fetish known as somnophilia.

Svein Overland, a Norwegian psychologist, is one of the few to have studied it – his interest sparked partly by his work in prisons, trying to understand the motivations of sex offenders, and also by his work with victims of what Norwegians call “after-party rapes” – attacks on vulnerable women who were either sleeping or drugged.

Overland believes somnophilia is part of the wider growth of what he calls “one-way sex”.

His research into online porn showed a steep rise over the past decade in categories such as “sleeping sex”, as well as other forms of sex that are based on unresponsiveness, on only meeting your own needs.

(“Flexi dolls” is another example – where women pretend to be sex dolls.)

These preferences overlap with porn itself, says Overland. “With one-way sex, with porn, with masturbation, there’s no dance, no seduction, no interaction and no pressure to perform,” he says.

“The more I looked at this area, the more you see that a lot of men are afraid of having sex.

Society is becoming more pornified but, at the same time, many studies show that people are becoming less sexually active. We have young men buying Viagra, unable to keep an erection.”

A sleeping woman is no threat – she’s absent, an object, a receptacle. (…)

“There seems to be a perception that something like this is a ‘lesser crime’ because it might not be at the hands of a stranger but your partner.

But what would feel worse? Being pickpocketed by a stranger or robbed by someone you love and trust?” she asks.

“The idea that you’re asleep so it didn’t require violence is also very dangerous. Penetrating someone’s body without their permission is an inherently violent act.

“Imagine being asleep and waking to find someone going through your personal things,” she continues. “Now imagine it’s your actual body that has been intruded into.” (…)

“When I first left him, I wouldn’t sleep. I’d lie awake all night and have hallucinations – him raping me.

Those flashbacks, that trauma response, was the mind and body trying to piece things together.

Even now, nine years on, I still wake at two every morning. I don’t even need to check the clock.

We know that the body stores memories of trauma – and I think 2am is when it used to happen.” (…)

In February 2020, she told the jury: “There has never been a part of me that has not been profoundly impacted,” and that in the immediate aftermath, she suffered PTSD and had tried to take her own life.

She said she had felt “unsafe everywhere”, frightened to trust anyone, even her parents."

[zukkacore]

I feel like there’s a lot of lip service in NATLA paid to the idea that the NATLA versions of the female characters are more emancipated in a way that actively makes their characterization and the worldbuilding more confusing. For some reason the NWT is sexist in one very specific way (women can’t do combat) but all the ways the NWT customs are stifling & patriarchal to Yue in particular don’t exist anymore b/c they want to be explicitly clear that Yue does in fact have agency in this version! The characterization of NWT culture was very confusing, as was Yue’s free spirit thing. The idea that Yue has “always done what she wanted” is so fucking busted b/c it complete robs her of her arc & comes into contradiction with the core value at Yue’s whole personality which is duty. If she was going to do what she wanted the whole time, what was the point of her time w Sokka?

And Yue physically preventing Sokka from stopping her weakens the scene. Yes, the emphasis is placed on Yue’s choice but it robs Sokka of his autonomy & undermines the strength of their relationship. When Yue freezes him, the subtext of that choice is that she doesn’t trust him nor does she see him as the kind of person who respects her decisions. Yes, OG Sokka protested, he loved her, and he genuinely internalized his duty to protect her, but if he truly prioritized his duty over her personhood, he definitely could have done a lot more to stop her. But when Yue lets go of his hand, he lets her. I think that’s a much more powerful choice & a much clearer display of their relationship.

For some reason, the decision was made to remove the unlearning sexism arc from new Sokka & the defense was that stuff was “iffy and outdated” but it’s like. The original Sokka went through something called a character arc. & even after Kyoshi Island, his baggage about being a warrior is undoubtedly tied into his relationship with patriarchy, no doubt, but that Sokka learned a lot & that’s part of why Yue likes him. The original Sokka would not have needed to be restrained, nor would the original Yue have ever felt compelled to do so. As much as Sokka blames himself for what happened, he respected Yue. And her sacrifice deserves more respect than this lip service girlboss moment. It’s both brave AND tragic. Yue’s sacrifice is multifaceted in that it’s both the ultimate fulfillment to her duty to others but also the ultimate and final expression of autonomy. And that is why it rules

[nighttimeclassics]

so im just thinking about the Orpheus and Eurydice metaphor in Dead Boy Detectives again...

so i really cant get over the symbolism in the show's comparison between Edwin and Charles and Orpheus and Eurydice. I'm sure someone else more succinct than me has already talked about it but man i just have to because as a classicist it has been consuming my brain since it happened... this is going to be a shitty ramble, but we vibe

so in the show, it is Edwin who first realises his feelings for Charles, and is the first to to truthful about them. Given that, in most translations of the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice, Orpheus' devotion to his wife is seen as the "stronger love" between the pair. highlighted in later adaptations such as Hadestown, as Eurydice makes the active choice to go to the underworld and leave her husband rather than their wedding being overshadowed by issues "worse than any omens". therefore, Edwin could initially be seen as the Orpheus parallel. particularly when you consider that Edwin 'guided Charles from the darkness' when he was dying of hypothermia with the lantern

however, unsurprisingly, given that is it Edwin who escaped from Hell, and is returned to it, Charles appears as the Orpheus parallel, with Edwin being his Eurydice. this is obviously then made super explicit in the show with it being Charles rescuing/ leading Edwin out of Hell. but even then it is not that simple

In Ovid's Metamorphoses, when pleading with Hades and Persephone, Orpheus states "my wife is the cause of my journey. A viper [...] robbed her of her best years. I longed to be able to accept it, and I do not say I have not tried: Love won." and obviously at the core of both of these relationships, is a deep deep love between them, regardless of how that manifests. Something i think is a massive parallel that i haven't seen anyone talk about yet is the willingness to remain in the Underworld/Hell for their respective partners.

going back to Metamorphoses, when Orpheus is requesting Eurydice's return to the mortal world, he gives Hades and Persephone an alternative solution of sorts. he says "if the fates refuse my wife this kindness [of returning to life], I am determined not to return {to the mortal realm]: you can delight in both our deaths." now is this not effectively the same thing Charles says to the Night Nurse when bargaining with her to open a door to Hell??? Charles says "then open up a door and I'll go get him, then we're stuck in Hell and you know where we are, or, I bring him back and we're all yours. It's a win-win." tell me that these aren't the same. you cant.

But i do think the most interesting parallel is when Charles and Edwin are running up the spiral staircase. i am not mentioning the times when escaping Hell, Edwin overtook Charles running, because let's be honest, we all know he is the faster sprinter of the two given the 70 years he spent practising. so I am disregarding that. but what I do find fascinating is this - and why I said it was more complicated earlier; in the metamorphoses Orpheus is obviously given the stipulation that he must not look at Eurydice when guiding her out of the underworld, or the agreement "would be null and void". and its here that we see another reversal. during the majority of the run up the staircase, Charles is behind Edwin, because like we have established, he's speedy. but in this key moment, Charles takes the lead in their escape, walking in front of Edwin whilst making it clear that they need to keep moving. just like in the tale, Charles, fulfilling Orpheus' role, "Afraid [they] was no longer there, and eager to see [them], the lover turned his eyes", turns to look back at Edwin, delivering the ridiculously romantic, 'sorry, no version of this where I didn't come get you is there?'. however, after this he refocuses on continuing up the staircase, which is where Edwin steps in:

as you can see in the gif, currently, Edwin is in, what I'm going to call the 'Eurydice position', following the lover out of the afterlife. and it is Edwin, as Eurydice, who basically chooses to condemn himself to the underworld/ hell, allowing the demon to catch up with them just to 'see [his] lover' and ensure Charles knows that '[he] had been loved'. t

im just going to put the section where Orpheus looks back at Eurydice in here because I think its all relevant:

"Afraid she was no longer there, and eager to see her, the lover turned his eyes. In an instant she dropped back, and he, unhappy man, stretching out his arms to hold her and be held, clutched at nothing but the receding air. Dying a second time, now, there was no complaint to her husband (what, then, could she complain of, except that she had been loved?). She spoke a last ‘farewell’ that, now, scarcely reached his ears, and turned again towards that same place"

by forcing Charles to turn around and face him, Edwin is fulfilling the roles of both Eurydice and Orpheus. in this instance, he is the one 'stretching out his arms' to hold Charles, but he is also the one that could be sent/ dragged back to the afterlife for this, but he just had to make sure Charles was aware of his feelings for him, to know that he was 'loved'. and I think Edwin was potentially prepared to return to the Doll House, or at least believed he would be able to find it more bearable knowing that he had been able to bear his soul to Charles, eve if that meant Charles couldn't come back again and try to rescue him for a second time, which Orpheus tried to do in the Metamorphoses, "Orpheus wished and prayed, in vain, to cross the Styx again, but the ferryman fended him off" and I feel like we all know Charles would have also kept trying if he lost Edwin again.

i guess, what im trying to say, in the most long-winded way, is that Charles and Edwin don't fill binary roles of one of them being Orpheus and the other being Eurydice, they are both of those things to one another throughout the show and I think that's really beautiful and I have to give massive credit to whoever did episode seven because I really feel like they did their homework. even after all the ramble I have written I still feel like I haven't fully made the point I was trying to make, but I definitely got some of the way there I think

[rowretro]

𝐍𝐎 𝐆𝐔𝐓𝐒 𝐍𝐎 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘

✧warnings: illegal activities, robbing a back, guns, blood, bomb blasts.

♡synopsis: Y/n and Nishimura Riki, are quite like Bonnie and Clyde, partners in crime with morals. The 2 are the youngest in Heeseung's gang, and had been assigned to rob a rather rich, immoral man's bank. Robbing the black money that he had robbed the country of, exposing his true colours. (Clearly inspired by Thunivu.)

✧♡✧♡𝕹𝕺 𝕲𝖀𝕿𝕾 𝕹𝕺 𝕲𝕷𝕺𝕽𝖄♡✧♡✧

Y/n smirked as Riki's gun pointed the air, bullets shoot at absolutely nothing as the bank workers and those who visited, cowered, finding safety where they could, all laying low. "THIS FUCKING HIEST IS MINE." Riki simply screamed as He chucked a gun at y/n who caught it, the girl immediately got to work, threatening the people, as she took their phones, purses etc.

"If you don't want to be harmed during this heists I advise you all lay low, let me take what I need and then I'll let you free." Riki simply advised as he played some music. Y/n checked all the restrooms and other areas, making sure no one was hiding before sitting on one of the desks, preventing any bankers from pressing the emergency red button.

"You guys... so fucking selfish, you think you'll be free with all the money you take from us?! of course you will you're kids after all." a 40 year old man complained as Riki and y/n turned to each other, the 2 bursting out into laughter. "Ah of course, you'd believe we're going to take the money and blow it on something useless?" The male asked as he turned to y/n. "You see sir... you'll see where this money'll go." she simply said as she pressed the big red emergency button herself.

Within minutes, police cars surrounded the bank building, as they remain cautious. There were bombs on the doors, heck they could even see that some bank workers were tied by the window, with bomb vests. "I take back what I said sir... please take this vest off of me!" the 40 year old begged as Riki snickerred. He pat the man's back with his gun "If you behave, I'll consider freeing you ".

All the while, y/n sat by the phone waiting on a call. "Wow these cops are really slow huh... So entitled they want us to call them instead. alright fine- we'll let them have it their way." she shrugged, dialling the number. "Hello? is this the police station?! there seems to be a heist taking place in XXX bank." The girl said, waiting upon a reply "What you don't think a woman can rob a bank? it's no wonder so many crimes happen in this country." She added, sounding a little annoyed.

Riki took the phone from her hold as she frowned at him, the male simply placed a soft kiss on her lips as he placed the phone by his ear. The police on the other line were just not having it. "Us robbing a bank? You see sir we aren't robbing the bank. we're simply taking back the amount this bank robbed from us." Riki said as the police officer was in disbelief. "All your doubts will be cleared.... can you put officer Jungwon on the line?" Riki said with an innocent smile.

Officer Jungwon, the said, innocent, brand new cop on the team, he was just a PC, the fear in his eyes evident as the Inspector glared at him handing the phone to him. "Officer Yang, we invite you through the backdoor to the bank. but.... you must bring 4 people..." Riki added as y/n nodded, hacking into as many news channels as possible, smirking as her eyes land on a certain news reporter. "Reporter Park" She simply said as Riki nodded.

"4 people. The bank owner. His father. The Manager and of course Reporter Park. The charming reporter with multiple cameras, trying to get the juicy drama, while charming a bunch of girls? his name card says Park Sunghoon? yeah that one." he described hanging up. The police new they were messing with the wrong gang, anyone knew Riki's voice. No one dared to mess with the Nishimura Riki, the only known gang mate in the ENHYPEN gang.

When the 4 were allowed in, Sunghoon set up the cameras as y/n tied the 3 men to 3 chairs, handing Jungwon a bat. Riki stood behind the camera with y/n. His focus on the people within the bank. "See here fellow bank workers and visitors... you're going to find out the real truth behind where your money, and my money went." Riki simply said as y/n shrugged, handing a contract to the three.

"what is this?!" The bank owner, Yeonjun asked as y/n smiled "It's simply a contract, a contract you will sign in front of this camera to allow us to interview you live~" the girl said, as Yeonjun signed it, not bothering to read it, he passed it onto his father, Mr Choi, the the Manager, Choi Soobin. After signing the contract, y/n took a seat. "Reporter Park, this is live right?" she asked as Sunghoon nodded.

With Jungwon in the back holding a bat, and Y/n sat right opposite the three men. "First question. Choi Yeonjun, the owner of this beautiful bank. Mind telling me how much you stole from us all together?" y/n asked as the man smiled at the camera "See darling I don't see what you're talking about... Why would I steal money when I'm already rich." He asked as y/n tutted "Officer Yang... if someone stole 100 million from your hard earned money, how would you feel?..." y/n asked.

"I'd break his hands for touching my money..." he answerred as the girl nodded. "Okay... well lets tone it down just a little, you may use the bat to hit Yeonjun everytime he lies." "WHAT? HIT ME??? SINCE WHEN WAS THAT ALLOWED?!" he asked as Riki chuckled. "In the contract Owner Choi." "What the fuck- but- the writting is so small i could barely read it!" he complained as Riki shrugged "It's the same font you used in your contracts." he simply said.

Jungwon started beating the man with the bat, as Riki then told him to stop. "This is ridiculous. I will not let you abuse my son like this!" Mr Choi complained as y/n nodded. "Okay sir then why don't you answer us? where did you store all the money you stole???" She asked as the man glared at her "I'm telling you we didn't steal any money!" The man lied as Soobin, the manager interrupted them. "Sir just tell them where the 500 million is or they...." Soobin stopped mid sentence noticing the Chois glare at him.

"500 million?.... wow you hear that world? XXX bank stole 500, million fucking dollars. Only 100 million from the infamous gang you all know... then that 400 million?... why don't I answer that for you?..." Y/n said, glaring at Yeonjun. "You stole that hard-earned money from all those civillians who worked their blood, sweat and tears, for that money, to pay off bills, school fees, hospital fucking bills. The so-called black money is actually red money. you have way more fucking blood on your hands than any gang ever had." She seethed.

The news airing abruptly came to an end, when Yeonjun managed to break out and stab a few wires, he immediately kicked y/n in the stomach, grabbing her by her hair and smashing her face into a glass table. However, Riki was quick to act, pulling her away, and hitting Yeonjun around the head with a gun. The Choi now knocked out called. "You alright princess?" Riki asked, his eyes widening at the little trickles of blood on your face. "M good sweetheart... it was nothing" she reassured as the man kissed her.

"Cork it love birds. only a matter of time before Yeonjun wakes up. Let's just take our 100 million and leave, the heli's here, the police can sort out that lot." Sunghoon said, throwing off the lanyard and unbuttoning the top, revealing the undershirt he wore beneath. "Fucking reporter uniform making me sweat like fuck." he groaned as Jungwon scoffed, throwing the bat aside as he dragged Yeonjun back to his chair, tying him down. "I actually look kinda fire in a cop's uniform to be honest." the man smirked as he followed y/n and Riki.

Y/n smirked, as she bombed the vault open, taking only the amount that the bank owed the gang, placing the money inside the helicopter. Riki dragged her cautiously, as they started to run until they were out of sight, the boys following behind. As they reached a safe spot, Heeseung picked them up. "huh, the police are at the bank now, and they're looking into the case.... and you're making out-" Sunghoon rolled his eyes, as Heeseung honked the car horn, in an attempt to stop them from eating eachothers' faces.

"Fuck it. they won't listen...." Heeseung groaned "they handled that bank issue without a lot of smooching, pet names, hugs, romance and all that bull crap... they'll be out of breath soon-" Sunghoon pointed out as Jungwon covered his ears.

✧♡✧♡𝕹𝕺 𝕲𝖀𝕿𝕾 𝕹𝕺 𝕲𝕷𝕺𝕽𝖄♡✧♡✧

[gothmiqote]

Also worth noting that she feels weirdly guilty about admitting any of this to the Scions?

The thing about Varha is that she just doesn’t talk about herself much at all. Like, she’s relatively open if you ask her something that’s presently relevant somehow, but she doesn’t ever volunteer information about her past unless really pressed for it somehow. The first time anyone picked up on this was a good few years into knowing her when the topic of name days came up & no one had any idea what hers was or even how old she was outside of a good guess.

(It’s actually not related to any sort of past tragedies or even the calamity. She just passively absorbed a distinct lack of importance when it came to her household, almost like everyone was too tired to really care all that much once the rest of her siblings were celebrated properly. When she hit the age where ‘friend’ parties were expected to take the place of family ones, she just kinda… stopped doing anything since most years she found herself without any real friends anyway. She knew people in her area and liked them enough, but no one ever ‘clicked’ with her in a way that mattered. Most name days after that were spent out of the house as much as possible, on the off chance one of her parents ever questioned her about it. She still found ways to enjoy it, she just had no desire to have a conversation about her plans. To this day, she still gets weird around the name day itself & is actually pretty uncomfortable with the idea that anyone wants to have any kind of celebration for her.)

And she knows it’s also not on her that the current family dynamic is what it is. It’s not like she chose hostility with her brother, and plenty of others lost people in the calamity. That doesn’t stop her from feeling somehow like she’s failed at something very important though. It seems like such a simple thing, for her to be on speaking term with her brother, but she isn’t and she’s afraid if she’s honest about that, then somehow his feelings about her will leech into other people. She’s got no idea what she would do if they started seeing her like he did (irritating, clingy, someone he’s happy to dismiss) but she’s pretty sure she wouldn’t cope well. She doesn’t want to feel like she’s holding her friends at a distance, but letting them see that part of her personal life feels like giving up a massive amount of control over her image. Her sister threw herself off the roof as a last resort and her only other living sibling can barely stand to be in the same room as her. It all feels extraordinarily pathetic and not at all the image she wants to project.

She needs these people to keep on liking her. She’s gotten too used to it now and doesn’t think she’s capable to going back to that quiet rejection. Not unlike a wounded animal who does its absolute best to avoid showing injury, Varha is desperate to keep her weak points under wraps just in case someone else decides to hate her for it. If it was enough of a reason for her own blood to abandon her when they should have been using each other for support, she’s got no reason to thing people outside of that wouldn’t also start to look at her with disgust.

Her confrontation with Rhaya’ra in Sharlayan was painful & unexpected, and while she should have just been focusing all her energy on saving the star, she keeps getting distracted by a past she never wanted to deal with again.

Varha keeps poking at me with more Family Lore TM as an explanation for why her current relationship with Rhaya’ra is Like That & it’s coming in the form of “actually Three of us survived the calamity physically but one is suspiciously Not Present Now & also she was definitely Rhaya’s favourite sister :)”

I don’t have a name for this sibling yet but she’s. Definitely not going to be making any present day appearances that’s for sure.

[yinwaryuri]

Jack and Joker: The Bank Scene

Happy Monday my friends, we finally are getting our gay heist show! YinWar truly have outdone themselves with the level of quality they've put into it and I couldn't be more excited or more grateful.

I wanted to break down the scene where Joke robs the bank because, given my experience in banking, it's was scripted very purposefully in favor of suspending our belief. Admittedly, my experience is in the US, and not all financial institutions operate the same, but for safety and security measures they're pretty standard across the board.

I was really appreciative of the disclaimer given ahead of time. It speaks to the research that was done for the sake of how much they could accurately portray the events, and when that seemed impossible and they couldn't let go of the scene, they said fuck it - gay story over realism it is. This break down is certainly not to dig at the writing; it's more to buff my knowledge than anything.

We love you YinWar, thanks for having respect for bank employees. Now let's get to the employees I don't respect, and the non-employee that I do.

For the most part, security officers don't need to do more than greet customers, and if there is any suspicion he shouldn't immediately interrogate someone. He's there for when things get escalated, or if there are any faces he should be looking out for (anyone banned from a branch for any reason), then he can confront them. If Joke had made an attempt at another location and that one tipped off others, then he would have a reason to suspect him.

Joke's mistake here: Being seen. He is so identifiable throughout. The show didn't bother checking any CCTVs, but he makes no attempt to hide from them. Instant jail. Sorry my guy. He also chooses a very unusual method and time of day to strike.

Since the officer did confront him, Joke gives an excuse.

This was a good call. If someone from another location or office, or a third party contracted service is coming, the employees would be notified beforehand of whom they should be and during which times. And even if the person is easily recognizable physically, they will have company identification on them, and if the security measures are extra strict, a form of government ID would also need to be shown.

LOUD WRONG ANSWER BUZZER

So what Joke is going to look for is someone who appears less competent. He looks at the older woman who likely has years under her belt and knows he has no chances there. But the girl to her left....

TARGET ACQUIRED

And she's already in trouble.

Oh hon.

That's never a situation I'd want to be in. Calling customers to inform them that there's been a mistake made on their account is never fun and it often is hard to reach them. There are ways of simply correcting the error and informing the person after it's been done just so they know what to expect when they look at the activity on their statement. Whatever the case, she's new, inexperienced, and having a bad day.

The balls he has to say this. Bestie. Have you ever touched banking software.

He's just getting her out of the way. If she had received any proper training and meant to apply it at all, this would've been a red flag. She is trusting the judgement of the security officer. Joke hasn't introduced himself by name and if he meant to help fix the mistake he wouldn't make her leave. It would be her responsibility and a good training opportunity. Instead, this happens....

She's risking so many things! Security within the immediate premises, security of the bank's information, confidentiality of the customers' information (which is literally their government ID, home address, other contact info, ALL of their accounts and activity). Absolutely a bad move.

GIRRRLLLL. That is on you. I saw her hesitate, but in the end just knew it was bad. At least where I've been, that possibly means fines and/or jail time for her as well, depending on the severity (most likely fines though). This poor girl is gonna have the worst confidence about her ability on the job after learning she helped a guy embezzle money. Where's her story?

Joke sends the security guard away, gets behind the desk with Carbon's ID and is likely planning to simply empty his account and leave. Then who should show up but Jack! (Next time please direct him to wait in a queue, your "manager" is supposedly still fixing your little check blunder, remember?)

And even Joke is nervous for a moment because he definitely didn't want to get the cute bartender involved.

Nevertheless, he humors Jack and listens to the bittersweet story of his childhood and his dream of opening a school. I love Jack, I really hope that he is able to open that school someday too.

So this part of the loan process is called the interview. It's where the employee will get an idea of the customer's needs and see if the bank's service is what they're looking for or if there is any particular offers they can make at this time. It's an important process when dealing in person because it will hopefully help the customer know which steps they can take depending upon approval. It's also where documentation is asked to verify what can be approved.

For the most part, Joke's charisma would be fantastic for a banking career because he seems natural at facilitating a conversation that requires someone to open up about their financial needs. He loses marks for not checking actual information, not filing any copies of the information he has been given, not explaining any details about paying the loan down or how having an account works, not starting the account opening process, and the numbers they talk about are vague so we don't even know how much money is in question here (which is probably a writing choice and I'm fine with it).

Instead Joke pulls a Picard and decides to make it so. And flirts at the same time. There's no signage around the branch to speak of this program and he doesn't go into any details, he simply grabs the stamp and seals their fates together.

I do think it's a sweet little change of mind he has. He was simply going to inconvenience Carbon, but what better way to do it (in his mind) than to give the money to the guy who got snubbed because of him?

The office being truly empty does crack me up. Who is supposed to be there and why are they gone? Also, for a bank, that vault is incredibly small. That is a home safe, that is not for securing the assets of the public. Also, most places have updated their protocol to use two people when opening the vault because having two people present also ensures less opportunity for employee theft.

His ass is not wearing gloves!

And, in a final un-bankerly move, he does not count out even the bundles.

FLIRT

I also love that he goes by Joker, but is constantly pulling a Batman exit on Jack.

I feel bad for knowing that I would have absolutely apprehended this man by asking the simplest questions. But I no longer work in that capacity and couldn't give a fuck! Let him do what he wants!

[violetsteve]

If you prefer, this is also posted on AO3

After the almost end of the world, Steve decides he’s going to put the moves on Eddie Munson.

Robin may or may not laugh in his face when he announces it.

The thing is, despite Robin almost laughing him out of the building, the thing is Steve is still figuring out his sexuality. He knows he likes girls, he’s always liked girls, but then Robin pointed out that maybe he couldn’t figure out what he wanted because he wasn’t looking in the right place and Steve realized she was right . Sure, Robin had meant more of a ‘ stop going after girls who are traditionally pretty and from well off families and try going out with girls whose company you actually enjoy’ and not a ‘ hey, dudes are kinda hot, too, right? It was real weird how transfixed you seemed to be on Eddie Munsons lips while we were actively fighting demon monsters,’ but Steve has always been good at reading in between the lines. Or, more like inserting what he wants in the gaps of what people leave unsaid.

So, no, Robin did not tell Steve to open his eyes and realize that straight guys don’t exactly think about how another guys lips will look slick with spit, how they’ll feel under the pressure of his thumb, what the sweet satisfaction of them partying so readily under his will feel like, but she did tell him to broaden his horizons and honestly, they were basically the same thing.

Which is why Steve feels like she should be more supportive of his plans to woo Eddie Munson onto his couch—and maybe, if he’s feeling ambitious, eventually into his bed.

“Robin, come on . I’m serious!” Steve will never admit, even under Russian torture again, that he whines it. He’s coming to Robin as a sounding board, not so she can make fun of him. If he wants someone to make fun of his lack of prowess, he would go talk to Dustin. 

Or, yeah on second thought no. He’s not actually sure his ego could take that much of a hit at the moment.

“Sorry, sorry,” she gasps, gripping the—newly rebuilt and polished—family video counter in front of her. “I just—Steve, that’s-that’s so ambitious . You literally just came out to me less than a week ago and you’re already talking about getting with a boy. And Eddie Munson at that.”

Steve scowls at her, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that he knows looks bitchy, but he can’t help it because—

“Don’t say his name like that. He literally almost died to save us all. He’s not fucking dirty .”

Robin immediately sobers, a guilty, but irritated look on her face. “That’s not how I meant it, Steve, and you know it. Don’t get bitchy at me just because you’re feeling sensitive about your feelings for a boy.”

And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? Steve isn’t really angry at her for laughing—Robin makes fun of him at least 7 times a day, Steve would be more concerned if she didn’t make at least one joke about this—and he isn’t even mad at her for putting a weird emphasis on Eddie’s name. No, he’s all twisted up about his feelings and he’s never been good at expressing them, let alone talking about them. He’s feeling self conscious and his skin is prickling with embarrassment and the easiest thing to do is lash out about it.

“That’s not—“ Steve cuts himself off, looking away from Robin as his shoulders slump. “You’re right,” he mumbles. “Sorry. I just. I wanna fucking kiss him so bad , Rob, and that freaks me out a little.” Steve untucks one of his arms to scrub a hand over his face, leaving the other one tucked around his waist to protect his vulnerable bits.

“Hey,” Robin murmurs, closing the distance between them so she can settle her hands on his shoulders. “I get it. Do you think I acted like a sane person the first time I realized I wanna kiss girls? I think I cried for a week. Kerry the stuffed Koala had to go to therapy because of all of my crying. It was a serious time in the Buckley house.”

Steve smiles behind his hand. He loves her so much. She’s really his best friend. He’s so thankful for her.

“You still cry about kissing girls,” Steve says, rather than admitting any of that. She already knows she’s smart, Steve doesn’t need to add any more to her ego. It just gives her more brain to bully him with.

He drops the hand covering his face to look at her. “Only now it’s more of a,” Steve puts on a high pitched, whiny voice, “‘why do I have to go to work when I could be spending all day making out with my girlfriend.’” He brings both of his hands up to clasp in front of his chest, batting his eyelashes at her in a fake-coy way.

Robin shoves at him, catches him off guard and he goes stumbling backwards into the counter, laughing the whole way. 

“Shut up , you absolute dickhead, ” she all but screeches, reaching out to give his chest another shove for good measure. “You literally have no room to talk considering you started this shift by announcing your intentions to, quite literally, crawl into Eddie’s lap and kiss him stupid . That’s almost verbatim what you said, Steve.”

Steve’s still chuckling as he rights his position a little, leaning back against the counter more comfortably. “Yeah, I did say that.” He sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth before he continues with, “I really, really wanna sit on his lap and kiss him until he can’t focus, Rob.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but it’s more fond than annoyed. Steve can tell—he’s been on the receiving end of about 90 percent of Robin’s eye rolls, he’s getting good at distinguishing the emotions behind each one.

“I still can’t believe you have a crush on Eddie Munson of all people. He’s so weird ,” She laughs, but Steve can tell that that, too, is fond. Robin and Eddie have a weird friendship. They geek out over obscure instruments and the nuance of tacky movies together. Steve doesn’t get it, but he enjoys watching how expressive both of them can be. He once watched Eddie climb onto a table while arguing with Robin about one of their movies. Robin followed him up shortly after, though, so Steve isn’t sure why she thinks the weird is limited to Eddie.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, and he’s man enough to admit that it sounds dreamy . God, he’s pathetic over Eddie. It scares the shit out of him. “You know, the other day he gave me a rock. It wasn’t even, like, a cool rock. It was literally just a rock. When I asked him why he just shrugged and was like ‘I dunno, it made me think of you.’”

Robin’s grin grows. “Oh my God. What did you do with the rock?”

Steve shoots her a disgruntled look. “What do you think I did with the rock? I put in my pocket and then brought it home and set it on my nightstand. Eddie gave it to me, I wasn’t just going to throw it on the ground again. That’s rude.”

Robin absolutely cackles at this, there’s no other way to describe it. She’s awash in glee as she claps her hands together a few times. “ Jesus , Steve. You’ve got it so bad for this man.”

“God,” Steve mutters, running a hand over his face again. “That’s not even the worst part, Rob. He like. He grabs his utensils with his whole fist when he eats. It’s so weird, and it’s so messy . It makes fuck all sense. He doesn't even grab a pencil that way. Just his fucking eating utensils . 

“And he walks so chaotic. He just randomly breaks into a sprint. Just starts fucking running out of nowhere. And he bounces. As if the random running wasn’t enough, he just fucking starts jumping. Sometimes he jumps at me, and it’s all I can do to actually catch him before he eats dirt. Or- or he’ll just. Spin. Just twirl in the middle of the sidewalk while still carrying on a conversation.” Steve slumps, his back getting slightly scraped against the counter as he sinks to his butt.

“The man has zero regard for personal space and he always makes way too intense of eye contact. Sometimes he’ll use one of his character voices in the middle of an otherwise totally normal conversation, and he’s always climbing on things. He’s loud and he’s weird and I wanna wrap my fingers around the collar of his shirt, shove him against a wall and then shove my tongue down his throat , jesus christ. ” Steve buries his face in his knees, his mind playing an endless loop of Eddie smiling with those stupid lips that are always cherry red and raw from his constant gnawing. Steve wants to bite them for him.

“Oh, my God, Steve.” Robing sinks down to sit across from him. “This is pathetic . I, like, knew you had a crush on Eddie but this is like. Dangerous territory. Like, the next step might be the L word level territory.”

Steve makes a small squeaking noise, his face still buried in his knees. Robin’s words hint at something that Steve is so not ready to admit to himself yet. She’s hitting way too close to something Steve has been avoiding actively and vehemently since he realized the attraction he feels for boys is decidedly not of the straight variety.

For a moment, neither of them say anything. Then, like the angel she so clearly is, Robin says, “So, wanna tell me about operation ‘crawl into Eddie’s lap and makeout with him?’”

Steve laughs, the tightness in his chest slowly easing. He lifts his head, and then spills his guts.

***

The plan starts simply. First, he needs to get Eddie alone . No annoying tagalongs to potentially interrupt.

It’s easier said than done. For two days straight, Steve asks Eddie to hang out and, somehow, one of the kids manages to weasel into their plans.

It’s driving Steve nuts.  

He casually asks Eddie to watch a movie, give him a proper education like him and Robin are always going on about, and Dustin overhears and invites himself.

He asks Eddie to go for a walk, makes an excuse about it being gorgeous outside while he plots ways for the walk to end right outside his house, isn’t that neat, but Lucas and Max overhear and suddenly it’s a group affair.

He asks Eddie to get milkshakes, plans to lure him back to his house with the promise of complete control of Steve’s record player, but El overhears and asks if she can tag along and Steve just can’t look into her big, earnest eyes and tell her no. He’s not a monster.

So they get milkshakes with El, and it’s fun . Of course it’s fun, but Steve is getting desperate . It’s been a little over a week since he hatched his mad plan with Robin and he’s about to start climbing the walls with anticipation.

It doesn’t help that Eddie has a mother fucking oral fixation. At every opportunity he’s either putting stuff in his mouth or chewing on something. It’s fucking rude, is what it is. It’s like he doesn’t even realize Steve is suffering.

It all finally comes to a head a full week and four days after his conversation with Robin on the floor of Family Video. He’s stopping by Eddie’s house to grab something Dustin left behind because Dustin asked and he’s nice . It’s maybe also because it’s a great excuse to see Eddie, but Dustin sure as shit doesn’t need to know that that’s the sole reason Steve said he will.

Eddie is slightly bent over, riffling through his Dungeons and Dorks stuff, and Steve is trying so hard to pretend like he’s not entirely focusing on his ass and the line of exposed skin above his belt. If Eddie turns around right now, he’s busted for sure.

Eddie’s just mentioned some kind of dragon when he lets out a triumphant noise, his story coming to an abrupt halt as he spins on his heel to face Steve.

“Aha!” He exclaims, thrusting a notebook in Steve's direction. 

Steve automatically reaches out to take it, his fingers brushing over the backs of Eddie’s in the switch over. Eddie bites his bottom lip at the contact, avoiding Steve’s gaze, and suddenly all Steve is thinking about is his mouth.

Steve debates with himself for a moment. This isn’t really how he planned to seduce his way into Eddie Munson’s lap, but he’s adaptable. If the years of almost apocalypses have taught Steve anything, it’s that sometimes you have to make do with what you have.

And what Steve has is an empty trailer save the two of them, and a couch less than ten feet away. He’s got the object of his affections standing in front of him, and Steve decides to adapt.

He wets his own lips, stepping towards Eddie. His hand is still holding Eddie’s hostage over the notebook.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve murmurs, ducking his head so he can look up through his lashes.

Steve watches Eddie’s breath catch, watches him stutter over his next sentence.

“Y-yeah,” he breathes out, his eyes flicking between Steve’s eyes and his mouth at a rapid speed. “Of c-course. I mean, it happens. Kids forget things. I’m sure Dustin just wanted to, like, go over the last session's notes for anything he missed.”

“Of course,” Steve agrees, taking another step into Eddie’s space. He’s aware that he’s primarily staring at Eddie’s lips, which is probably rude, but he can’t help it. They’re wet and shiny and Steve has been thinking about them an obsessive amount for the last week and a half.

“We’re, um, I-I mean they’re going against a red dragon,” Eddie continues. Steve’s aware of this. It’s what Eddie had been telling him when he’d found the notebook. “They’re very powerful, almost impossible to defeat.”

“Are they?” Steve’s only half following the conversation, but that’s not saying much. He has a hard time keeping up with the DnD talk on a regular day.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie says, and then he’s off. He starts spitting words so fast Steve wouldn’t be able to keep up even if he were paying complete attention.

“Eddie,” Steve says, but Eddie is still talking, still mumbling along about the red dragon.

“Eddie,” Steve tries again, but it’s like he’s shouting in an empty room. He knows Eddie knows he’s talking to him, can tell by how wide Eddie’s eyes are, how he’s not even trying to not slur his rapidfire words together. If Eddie was talking about dragons for the hell of it, he’d be gesticulating and probably climbing on things. As it were, he’s got his gaze fixed on Steve, eyes comically wide as his words rush together—barely getting one out before the next slew rush into it in a truly amusing word traffic jam.

Eddie’s nervous , and fuck if that doesn’t thrill Steve to his core. Steve takes the final step towards him to completely close the distance and—

Eddie takes a step back, his words stuttering along with Steve’s heart in his chest. He wasn’t expecting that, wasn’t expecting Eddie to back away from him so quickly. Steve has half a second to be hurt, to mentally kick himself because get a fucking clue , Harrington, before he catches Eddie’s eyes darting down to his lips, his tongue unconsciously swiping along his lower lip before his gaze skitters back up to Steve’s.

And, oh, yeah , Steve has him exactly where he wants him. Eddie isn’t stepping back because he doesn’t want Steve. No, he’s stepping back because he’s prey . Steve is stalking towards him with a single minded focus and Eddie is skittering backwards like a scared rabbit—bouncing back step by step as Steve approaches until his back collides with the wall. That, finally, seems to knock all their air out of Eddie. The dragon conversation dies on his lips as Steve finally—fucking finally —closes the remaining distance between them. He reaches out, cupping Eddie's cheek in one hand, his jaw in the other, all while pressing up against Eddie from hip to chest.

“ Eddie, ” Steve murmurs, his eyes hooding. This time, Steve feels Eddie’s breath catch, feels the way a tremor works its way through Eddie’s body. He’s staring up at Steve with wide, wild eyes. He looks like a deer caught in a trap—ready to break his leg trying to get away if he needs to.

Steve isn’t sure why that makes him feel a little wild, but it does.

He stretches his thumb out to swipe across Eddie's bottom lip—already bitten and red from Eddie’s nervous chewing. God , it drives Steve crazy . He has a half-hysterical thought about offering his own up for Eddie to chew on when he’s nervous. Eddie makes him crazy .

Steve licks at his own lips as he watches the way his thumb catches and drags and the swollen skin of Eddie’s bottom lip. Eddie’s trembling in earnest now, and Steve feels his pulse thundering in his ears. He wants to kiss Eddie so bad his fucking toes are curling with the anticipation.

He flicks his gaze up, away from Eddie’s lips up to his eyes and he has to fight back a groan. Eddie looks fucking wrecked and Steve hasn’t even kissed him yet. His eyes are wide and wild, his pupils blown and there’s a scarlet flush in his cheeks. He’s fucking panting against Steve’s face and he can’t take it any more. He really, really can’t. He has to kiss him—screw anticipation, screw driving Eddie past the brink. He needs and he needs now.

“ Eddie, ” Steve practically gasps . “Eddie, please.” Steve squeezes his eyes shut as his body unconsciously rocks forward, seeking even more of Eddie out. “Wanna kiss you so bad, please say I can, please—”

And before Steve can get another plea out, Eddie’s slamming his head forward with enough force to knock their teeth together in an uncomfortable clack ; enough force that their noses knock together in a painful way.

But Steve doesn't care . He doesn’t care because Eddie’s lips are on his and he feels like there’s liquid fire coursing through his veins. He feels lit up from the inside out as Eddie finally, finally touches him back. He fists a hand in the back of Steve’s shirt, the other winding through Steve’s hair and fuck it’s finally happening. After night upon night of imagining what kissing Eddie Munson would be like, Steve’s finally doing it.

And goddamn is he doing it. Eddie’s lips are slick against his, hot and encouraging . They slide together in a way that has Steve’s mind going blissfully blank, his only thoughts being hotwetyesmore.  

He kisses him messy, lips moving together in a too fast pace that neither of them can keep track of; bruising force in the way their lips slide, spit sliping from their parted lips in a slow trickle that has Steve’s fingers curling against Eddie’s jaw.

He uses that hand to tilt Eddie’s head up slightly, angling it enough that Steve can get his bottom lip between his own and suck slightly. The first slid of Eddie’s lip between Steve’s own has him seeing fucking stars . 

A punched out groan breaks free from Eddie’s throat and he rocks forward into Steve, seeking more . The hand in the middle of his back pulls and Steve is helpless to do anything but push Eddie more firmly into the wall. He knows it has to hurt, has to be restricting Eddie’s breathing with how tightly they’re pressed together, but he can’t take enough focus away from Eddie’s mouth to care . Plus, if Eddie minds that much he wouldn’t be pulling Steve closer .

Eddie breathes a wet gasp into Steve’s mouth when he takes his teeth to the lip still tucked between his own, and Steve can’t help but let out a gasp of his own. Eddie tastes fucking phenomenal. He can taste the lingering tobacco on his tongue, the salty tang of the popcorn he must have had earlier, and just the overwhelming taste of Eddie. Hot, sweet, fucking sublime. Steve‘s never been a particularly religious man, but he feels like he’s drinking heaven straight from Eddie’s mouth. With every gasp, every moan, every brush of Eddie’s tongue, he feels one step closer to absolution. It’s addicting .

God , he wants more. He wants Eddie’s hands all over him, on bare skin. He wants those deft musicians fingers to snake into his hair, tug a bit. He wants Eddie over him and under him and—

He stills suddenly, a thought occurring to him. The line that had triggered this whole thing—his announcement to Robin back in Family Video—and suddenly there’s a burning need in Steve’s gut. God, he needs to sit in Eddie’s lap right now. Needs to feel his strong thighs under him, needs Eddie’s hands on his ass and his tongue in his mouth.

“ Fuck, ” Steve bites out when he pulls back. Tearing his mouth away from Eddie’s is so much harder than it has any right to be.

Eddie’s staring at Steve with glassy eyes, his lips shiny and red and oh fuck even his chin is glistening with their spit. Steve wants to devour him.

“Go sit on the couch,” Steve says, and is pleasantly surprised that his voice only sounds a little rough, a little shaky.

“What?” Eddie croaks out, staring at Steve for a beat. Then, miracle of miracles, he does it. He stares at Steve the whole time, the glassy look getting a little clearer, and Steve thinks that simply will not do.

The minute Eddie is seated, Steve’s crawling his way into his lap. He wedges his knees into the crease at the back of the couch, shuffling as far forward as he can so their chests are pressing together, their clothed crotches aligning. Then, without giving Eddie a chance to adjust, he drops down, pressing the full weight of his ass into Eddie’s thighs and, by proximity, his dick.

“ Jesus Christ ,” Eddie swears, his hands shooting out to grab at Steve’s ass on instinct. Steve almost giggles . It’s exactly what he wants.

“You can just call me Steve,” he mutters, and before Eddie can reply, he’s sweeping in and claiming Eddie’s lips again. Eddie huffs against his mouth, but let’s Steve have the last word. Steve’s glad because he has plans .

Plans that start with Steve winding those thick curls around his fingers as he slides his lips against Eddie’s. Eddie pushes his head back into Steve’s hands like a cat, and it makes Steve smile into their kiss, which makes Eddie smile into the kiss. It’s like a domino effect—once Steve feels Eddie’s smile against his, he starts giggling like a schoolgirl. He can’t help it, this feels unreal in the best possible way.

Then Eddie’s off, giggling back into Steve’s mouth. They’re both just sitting there giggling at each other, eyes squinted and happy . God, Steve feels euphoric in this moment, perched in Eddie’s lap like it’s his throne, with Eddie’s hands on his ass.

Eddie pulls back after a moment, when their smiles are too wide to actually kiss. He brings a hand up to gently brush a strand of hair away from Steve’s eyes, tucking the long lock behind his ear before putting his hand back on Steve’s ass. 

“You’re unbelievable, Steve Harrington,” Eddie whispers, eyes so full of affection that Steve feels his insides turn to mush. He squirms in Eddie’s laps, ducking his head to mouth at Eddie’s neck because if he stares into his eyes any longer he’s going to do something stupid . Stupid like admit that he’s pretty fucking sure he’s in love with Eddie, has been since he gave him that dumb rock for no decernable reason other than he wanted to, because he was thinking of Steve.

Steve tongues at the tendon in Eddie’s neck that’s stretched taunt, rubs his nose along his jaw and up to the hollow under his ear. Eddie laughs, tilting his head sideways to give Steve easier access.

“Oh, now you’re gonna be shy? After you practically pounced on me earli—”

Eddie’s words cut off in a choked groan as Steve bites, hard , at the tendon he was just showing attention to.

“ Steve, ” Eddie gasps, but Steve doesn’t let him do any other talking. No, he’s not going to let Eddie derail him again. So, he dives back for Eddie’s mouth, licking into it, not slowing down and not giving Eddie a chance to catch up. He smooths his tongue alongside Eddie’s, lets Eddie push back against it with his own for a millisecond, before he’s switching tactics—licking behind the top row of Eddie’s teeth, sliding his tongue over Eddie’s bottom lip. 

Eddie squeezes his ass at the sudden onslaught, and Steve can’t help the small jerk his body gives at that. He grinds down, a gasp trapped in the humid air between them as sharp waves of pleasure shoot up his spine. He’s trapped in between Eddie’s lips and his hands and he feels like he’s high with it.

He’s enjoying himself so much.

He slides his tongue along Eddie’s again, enjoys the way it's slightly rough and gloriously slick against his own. Enjoys the way it makes his pulse thrum a little faster, his fingers grip a little tighter where they’re fisted in Eddie’s hair—the way it makes Eddie squeeze a little tighter, which makes Steve grind down a little harder.

Steve feels the evidence of Eddie’s interest, has been feeling it, and knows Eddie has to be aware of Steve’s own. And Steve’s fantasized about Eddie’s lips for so long that he’s tried to keep it to just that—tried to focus on the heady drag of lips on lips—but it’s hard to ignore the way Steve’s own hips are twisting down, seeking as much of Eddie as possible. Hard to ignore the way Eddie has his own feet planted on the floor, meeting Steve’s hips with firm thrusts of his own.

They’re sharing humid air and sharp gasps, their lips swollen and honestly sore . Steve’s lips ache in the best way he’s ever felt, and Steve doesn’t want to stop. Wants to sit right here on Eddie’s strong thighs, wants to feel Eddie’s teeth nipping at the too sensitive skin of his mouth, wants to kiss Eddie for the rest of his life .

They kiss and kiss and kiss, and Steve has never just kissed someone like this. He’s never kissed just to feel, kissed just for the pleasure of it with no expectations for what’s to follow. He feels intoxicated. He’s utterly, wholly blissed out on Eddie Munson’s mouth and he never wants it to end.

They kiss for so long that Steve has honestly started to lose feeling in his lips. It’s weird feeling them so sore, so numb. But they are, so he slowly, so slowly pulls back. Leaning down for a few lingering pecks as he puts a little distance between their mouths.

Eddie’s mouth is bright red, spit slick and so tempting. Steve watches with fascination as a single string of spit connects their lips, stretching until he’s put enough distance between them that it breaks.

Steve bites his lip on a moan, thinks that’s one of the hottest things he’s ever seen.

He meets Eddie’s gaze. His eyes are wild, pupils blown out. His hair is an absolute disaster from the way Steve’s been running his fingers through it, and his cheeks are flushed so prettily. Steve can’t resist sneaking one more kiss in, lingering around afterwards to rub their noses together.

“Hi,” Steve finally murmurs and fuck, is that his voice? Jesus, he sounds wrecked.

“Hi,” Eddie says back, his smile verging on loopy. “Did you know that some corvids can understand physics?”

Steve stares at him for a beat, a little stunned and a lot confused by the abrupt topic switch. Eddie stares back, a look on his face that Steve can only take for regret, his already pink face is turning positively crimson. 

It’s dead quiet for a moment, then Steve bursts into laughter. His chest absolutely swells with affection, with, fuck it, love. God damn , he can’t deny it any longer. The love he feels for this boy sitting under him is overwhelming at the best of times, and it feels like it’s just bursting out of him at this moment. He’s coming apart at the seams with his feelings for Eddie, and he’s done trying to pretend that they’re anything but that.

“Oh my God, ” Eddie mutters, bringing his hands up to hide his face. It’s so endearing. Steve is endeared. “Sorry, fuck. I don’t know why I just said that.”

“Jesus Christ, dude.” Steve’s still grinning down at Eddie, moving his hands to clasp around Eddie’s wrists, trying to pry his hands away. He never wants to not be looking at Eddie. He’s so fucking weird and Steve likes him so much. “I like you so fucking much .”

Eddie lets Steve pull his hands away, and he…there’s no other word for it, Eddie just absolutely lights up. It’s like Steve’s staring directly at the sun. Eddie is beaming up at him, his smile so wide that his eyes are basically closed. He has laugh lines, and Steve is already obsessed with them, already thinking of ways to make Eddie smile this wide, this radiant all the time.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve confirms. “Just ask Robin. I’ve been whining about it for weeks .”

Eddie laughs again, his grin not dimming in the slightest, and Steve just has to taste it—has to get his mouth around Eddie’s happiness. So, he swoops back in, feels Eddie’s laughter transfer to him via their connected mouths, feels a piece of himself that’s long been looking for a home finally slot into place.

[xiaq]

Is it time for a Steddie time travel fix-it AU? (yes)

A03

There’s something wrong with Steve Harrington.

It’s not that Eddie’s watching him. Not that he pays any special attention to him. But the guy is noticeable. He’s the closest thing Hawkins has to royalty: Rich. Star athlete. Attractive. He’s the cliche golden boy of every teen movie with his polos and letterman jacket and vacant, pretty smile as he walks down hallways with his arm around the girl-of-the-week. He’s a predictable staple; a static figure in the horror script that is Eddie’s high school existence.

So when Steve Harrington shows up to school on an otherwise ordinary Wednesday looking and acting really fucking different, Eddie notices.

Well, he doesn’t actually look all that different. The clothes are normal. But his hair is far from its typical careful coiffure, and there’s a frantic energy to him as he shoves his way through the double doors and jogs into the empty hallway.

He doesn’t see Eddie, tucked in the bathroom alcove.

The only people at the school this early are the marching band kids, wrapping up their hellishly early practice, and Eddie, waiting to sell to a tuba player with no concept of how much weed should actually cost. Eddie has no intention of informing him.

Steve Harrington, pacing in front of a segment of lockers, checking his watch, shoving his fingers through his hair, is wildly out-of-place in the bright-lit early-morning hallway.

And then, things get weirder.

Because Robin Buckley exits the band room and they both freeze.

“Fuck,” she says, “are you––”

“Rob,” Steve says, and it's the most gut-wrenching sound Eddie has maybe ever heard in his life.

She throws herself at him and they hug like—Eddie doesn’t even know. Like the people you see on the news from war zones who thought their family had been killed before a miraculous reunion.

“Are you ok?” she asks, voice cracked and carrying in the empty hallway. “I woke up this morning and my mom was just acting like everything was normal and I had to get to practice and I thought maybe it had all been some fucked up dream but even I’m not that creative.” She pushes away from him, tugging up the bottom of his shirt, “what about––are you––?”

He grabs her wrist, shaking his head. “No, I’m fine. I’m completely fine. I’m just…1983 me.”

What the fuck, Eddie thinks.

Well, he’s already been thinking that, but. What does that even mean? What else would he be?

“Are the kids ok?”

What kids?

“I don’t know. I don’t have a walkie or anything anymore it’s all––” Steve gestures, “reset. And if this is ‘83 then they’re all actual children again, El might not even be––and what if they don’t––”

“They have to. I mean, if we do, they have to, right?”

Are they on drugs? Is he on drugs? The blunt he smoked last night shouldn’t cause hallucinations. He pinches himself. Ow.

The band hall doors open again and Eddie shifts further into the alcove as several horn players walk past.

“We can figure things out after school,” Steve murmurs. “We just have to hold it together until then. I don’t know if we’re stuck here or not but if we are––”

“Right. Act normal. Just normal, 16-year-old Robin things. No problem.”

They grab each other again, a tight, desperate, embrace that is not at all normal, Eddie feels it’s important to point out. He didn’t even think that Harrington knew Buckley existed. It’s almost as strange as if Harrington decided to hug Eddie. Inexplicable.

They separate, Robin rubbing at her eyes and Harrington muttering something about not remembering his locker combination. Eddie’s customer arrives before he can decide if he wants to investigate things further.

Focusing in his first period is even more impossible than usual. Focusing on math is tedious enough normally, but when Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington are having some sort of shared nervous breakdown it’s even harder to care about logarithmic functions.

He sees Steve again in the hallway after first period and Eddie will admit he’s actively looking for him now. Steve is talking in hushed tones to Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Beyers of all people. His hair is an absolute wreck, and his posture is…Eddie doesn’t know how to describe it. 'Aggressive' isn’t quite right but it’s close.

And then, like Harrington has some sort of intuition he’s being watched, he glances up and meets Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie doesn’t know why he runs. His fight or flight instincts have been well-honed his 4 years at Hawkins High and there’s something about the feral-ness in Steve’s stance, the completely unfathomable emotion in his eyes, that has Eddie shoving his way around the corner and into the bathroom. He drops his lunchbox into the sink and pushes both hands into his hair with a quietly muttered: “fuck.” He feels like he might be going crazy.

The door opens.

“Eddie,” Steve says.

It sounds strangely similar to the way he’d said “Rob” that morning–full of something Eddie doesn’t understand.

“Harrington,” he says warily.

Steve takes two steps forward and Eddie automatically scrambles backward, running into the wall and bashing his elbow against the paper towel dispenser. Steve has never actually hurt him before, but some of the guys he hangs out with have and—

Steve freezes: both hands out, reaching for nothing.

“You don’t—?”

There’s a question, there, but Eddie has no idea what it is.

“Eddie?” he says again. This time, it’s desperate and Eddie has no idea why.

The only time he’s ever seen someone’s eyes look like this is when he was looking at his own reflection in the church’s bathroom mirror, clinging to the sink at his mother’s funeral.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. 

Steve’s jaw works. “You don’t remember,” he says blankly.

“Remember what? You’re kinda freaking me out, dude, which is impressive, considering,” he gestures expansively to himself, gives a little shake of his hips so the chains rattle.

Steve doesn’t laugh.

“You don’t remember,” he repeats, more to himself than Eddie. “But you’re ok?”

He’s looking at Eddie’s chest.

“Yes? A-okay. Tip top. Hagan barely touched me yesterday, if that’s what you’re talking about.”

“Tommy hurt you?” Steve says.

Well, shit. The crazy eyes are back. 

“Man, why do you care?”

“Sorry,” Steve says. “I’m sorry, I know this doesn’t make any sense to you, but can I just–”

Eddie lets him approach, this time. Lets him reach out to touch. It’s just one hand, at first, tentative, like Steve is expecting to be rebuffed, palm cupped to the ball of his shoulder over his jacket. “Sorry,” he says again, letting go only to reach for the hem of Eddie’s shirt, “Sorry, I know I probably sound crazy, I just––” he pulls it up, stares at Eddie’s side, and then lets out a hysterical little noise that sounds like a cross between a laugh and a sob.

“You’re ok,” he says.

His fingers are hot on Eddie’s skin, pressed light and shockingly reverent to the space between his hip and rib cage.

“You’re ok,” he repeats. It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.

“Hey,” Eddie says, it comes out more breathless than he’d prefer but Steve fucking Harrington has him backed against a wall in a bathroom with his hands up Eddie’s shirt so he thinks a little lack of air is warranted. “Are you ok?”

The fingers on his abdomen flex.

“No,” Steve says. His eyes are wide and fathomless and the look on his face is terrible. “No, I’m not even remotely ok.”

It sounds like a confession. 

Steve lets go of Eddie’s shirt.

He takes a studied step back but then stops, palm still splayed on Eddie’s side, free hand reaching for Eddie’s arm, for his elbow, to cling, like he can’t quite force himself to stop touching; not yet. He’s looking at Eddie like Eddie has broken his heart which doesn’t make any sense because they don’t know each other. They’ve never spoken directly to each other in their lives. So there’s no reason that Steve should be looking at him, like, like––

Like he is.

They’re breathing each other’s second-hand air and Eddie can smell him and there have only been a few times in his life when a boy has looked at Eddie with even half the want that Steve Harrington is looking at him with now. And never, never has a man who looks like Steve Harrington looked at Eddie with anything approaching whatever the hell is on Steve’s face.

“Eddie,” Steve says, and he sounds so lost. 

Eddie’s not proud of it.

He runs away.

He shoves Steve to the side, wrenches open the door, and runs without stopping through the hall, outside, down the sidewalk, and onto the main road. He runs until he has to stop because he can’t breathe and only then does he bend over, hands braced on knees, and look behind him. He almost expects to see Steve has followed him.

He hasn’t. 

Eddie can't decide if he's relieved by that or not. And then he realizes he’s left his entire stash in the lunchbox in the bathroom.

“Fuck,” he hisses, straightening, hands on his head, lungs aching.

“Fuck,” he says again, just for the hell of it.

He has no idea what’s happening.

But what he does know is that something is seriously wrong with Steve Harrington.

Pt2 here.