#everything's great over here gang

[maintitle]

At a very specific point in my life where I will go out of my way to reach out to someone I haven't hard from for a while, and then be so overwhelmed by the idea of answering the question 'how are you?' that it takes days for me to reply to my own request for contact.

[pepi-nillo]

my brain wrote a whole beyond evil fic for my dreams today and now i'm so sad that i'll never get another chapter. it was so good

i wrote down what i remembered after i woke up, but it's not the same now that i know i can have good fics without opening my browser and adding a bunch of filters on ao3. whyyy

[milfgyuu]

Lowlifes [M] Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Fem!Reader Tags: 11.5k, f2l, smut, fluff, humor, foundfamily, gang?au, 18+ Summary: Seungcheol grows tired of watching you fool around with a string of loser boyfriends and steps in when an ex shows up somewhere he's not welcome which unravels years of feelings lost in translation. Warnings: SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI!! mxf unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, lots of making out both in public and private, lots of touching, holding, soft manhandling, language, physical violence, mentions of injuries, broken bones, etc. not super detailed but very much implied they are in an illegal crime crew/gang/ring whatever. people are drinking in the bar and getting lit bc it's big dawg dk's bday ok. i think that covers it.

Seungcheol knows he should mind his business and he’s well aware that you can handle your own problems because you take great pleasure in reminding him of your capabilities.

That doesn’t mean he’s not watching out of the corner of his eye as you’re pacing back and forth at the far end of the bar. Your phone is glued to your ear and you’re obviously upset, throwing your free hand in the air with a string of expletives falling from your lips so clearly that he doesn’t have to hear you to make them out. It’s obvious who’s on the other end of that call and just knowing you’re still speaking to your ex irks his nerves.

He drinks down the remainder of his beer as he continues monitoring from a distance, running the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip with thinly veiled irritation. 

When you hang up the phone, mid-sentence, it takes everything in you not to turn and drive your fist through the wall. All the pretty promises and apologies…you knew they were empty. You knew he would disappoint you yet again. You’re more angry with yourself for being stupid enough to hope he’d come through for once but instead of being here with you and your friends, trying to work shit out, he’s running with his new crew. 

Things were always tumultuous with Jae and never going to work out, which you knew very early on, but you just loathe being wrong when you give someone a chance. It was a fool’s hope to think he might turn it around and make you feel better about letting him into your life to begin with.

The truth of the matter was that Jae just wanted to be a part of your crew and when they refused to let him in, he went and found another and tried to drag you along with him. There wasn’t a chance in hell that you’d leave them, your family, but you tried to make things work and it bit you in the ass more times than you could count. 

You’re pissed as all hell when you slip back into the booth, right into Seungcheol’s side. He’s warm and familiar, and when his arm falls around your shoulder it tempers your rage just a touch. Another thing Jae couldn’t stand…how close the two of you were. 

Seungcheol has been by your side since you and your brother were kids. You three have been thick as thieves, literally, for so long that you were more comfortable with him than anyone else in the world. You loved, trusted, and respected Seungcheol to a fault. 

He also notoriously let’s you get away with pretty much everything. 

So, for no reason other than needing a distraction and hoping to get a rise out of him, you take the cold fresh beer he’s yet to touch right out of his hands and bring it to your lips. He makes an amused sound and pinches your shoulder where his hand rests. 

“That doesn’t belong to you,” he grumbles, though he doesn’t do anything to stop you from taking whatever you want.

You swallow another small mouthful and set the beer down, pushing it back into his grip. The little gasp of surprise you let out when his big hand catches around yours before you can let go of the glass makes Cheol grin which is an improvement from the scowl he’s been sporting for most of the night.

“You gonna tell me why you’ve been so grumpy?” you ask, leaning into him so he can actually hear you over all the noise, “You only nurse a beer when you’re in a shit mood.”

He lets you pull your hand from the cold glass but doesn’t put any distance between your bodies, he lessens it instead. You’re so close that he doesn’t even need to speak loudly for you to hear him. “I didn’t realize you paid that much attention to me.” His deep rumbling voice can be felt this closely and the alcohol in the warmth of your belly feels fizzy.

“I’ve known you longer than anyone else here,” you reason, “You can’t hide anything from me.”

Seungcheol snickers, “Oh, I bet I could.”

You don’t get the chance to try and one up him because your phone buzzes incessantly in your lap. Pulling back, you both see who is calling and Seungcheol kisses his teeth in irritation. You silence the call, sending your ex to voicemail and you’re about to reach for your own drink but another incoming call prevents you.

“You want me to answer it?” 

Seungcheol’s tone is dangerous so you silence the call again and continue reaching for your glass. “He’ll give up.”

That isn’t typically the case but you're praying this once it is because you really don’t feel like dealing with Jae’s bullshit any more than you wish to handle a pissed off Seungcheol or get a lecture from your brother. Jeonghan, over-bearing and unhinged as he is, will talk you to death when you make a poor choice as if his entire lifestyle isn’t comprised of the ones he’s made. Better to keep him out of it too.  

Cheol will give you a piece of his mind but he’s more like your big, scary guard dog and even though you’re never on the receiving end, you know he’s got a nasty bite so you’d prefer to keep the leash short and not dangle bait before him. The last thing you need is Seungcheol winding up in a cell because of you…he toes that line enough as it is.

Unfortunately, nothing is going your way tonight and your phone lights up again. Normally you’d leave it alone but another part of you, one far and detached from who is calling, still fears the guilt of missing back-to-back calls heavens forbid something has happened.

It’s the only reason you’re answering, shouting over the noise, “You’d better be dying. What the hell do you want?”

“Baby, I just need to talk to you and you’re ignoring me,” he whines back and bile gathers at the base of your throat, “I already said I was sorry! Your friends don’t even like me so I don’t know why you asked me to come. They don’t think I’m good enough for you.”

“You’re not good enough for me,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, beyond caring about his feelings at this point, “You’ve proved that time and time again and I don’t need them to tell me what I already know. I’m busy. Don’t call me again.”

“Wait, wait!” he calls out to you desperately - it makes your skin crawl, “I’ll come pick you up, sweetheart. I’ll take you somewhere real nice, just us two, ok? You just stay there and I’ll come get you.”

Your face bunches up incredulously, “Don’t bother showing up now! The olive branch I extended by inviting you tonight no longer exists. I don’t want you here and I’m definitely not going anywhere just the two of us. I’m with my crew and you’re with yours,” you argue back, “That’s what you chose, so that’s what you get.”

There is silence on the end of the line and then laughter. 

“You’re lucky you’re hot because it’s a distraction from how fucking crazy you are! I swear to god, you’re just trying to piss me off so I’ll pay more attention to you! Is that what you want? Want me to drop everything to be with you? Like you don’t get enough fucking attentio-”

“Hang up,” comes a growl from your left and when you look over, Seungcheol is seething.

You don’t waste another breath except to say, “Don’t call me again,” before disconnecting..

As you tuck your phone back between your thighs you accidentally meet Jeonghan’s gaze from across the table. His eyes flick between you just having ended another call and Seungcheol who looks like he might shatter the glass in his hand at any given moment. He raises a brow, his silent way of asking if everything is okay and you wink back like it’s totally fine. No worries. Not a thing wrong or out of place. 

Which, it probably would have been if your phone hadn’t vibrated again a minute later. 

It’s just the one time so you thought it was a fluke, a misdial,  but then it buzzes again….and again. Then it’s a continually buzzing stream of new alerts so you pull your phone out and find sixteen unread messages. You don’t even bother reading them and shove the phone back between your thighs. Just. Shut. Up.

Minutes pass and you’re trying really hard to enjoy Chan’s little impromptu performance at the bar, and it sounds lovely, truly, but it’s difficult to focus on anything at all between your efforts to internally process your ex’s fucking audacity and to ignore furious heat rolling off Seungcheol’s body still so close to your own.. 

He’s wholly enraged and you can feel it.

There is maybe a solid seven minutes where your phone sits silently and you’re about to turn to speak to Jihoon and then…another text comes through. Seungcheol’s patience finally wears through and he plucks it from between your thighs before you can react. You watch quietly, not bothering to argue with him as he forces a shut down before pocketing it inside his jacket. 

You still stare at him like some admonished teenager and he stares back with a small smirk, daring you to say something. He’s not doing it to punish you - that’s the reason you don’t push back - he’s going to make sure you enjoy the night just like everyone else. He knows it’s not going to happen if you’re glued to your phone and so do you. 

Narrowing your eyes, you smirk back. “You’re giving that back later, right?”

His answering grin is troubling. “I might make you earn it.”

You toy with the idea of asking how but that line of thought is mercifully interrupted by a round of shots for the whole table being delivered and passed around. You had to wait the additional four minutes of having to sit through Hoshi giving an impromptu speech that almost dissolves to tears because he’s probably (definitely) two shots too deep and then it’s back to chaos and you’re finally free to be a part of it.

Your mood lifts tremendously over the next hour so being present in the moment with the people you love. Hao’s girlfriend Jessie passes you a sticker sheet with little glittery hearts and stars which end up all over the bar, in joshua’s hair, the tip of Jun’s nose, the bathroom walls, and some litter the dance floor. Woozi steals a couple for the back of his phone case and when you run out she supplies you with temporary tattoos. Almost everyone has at least two imprinted on their skin by the time those are run through.

When your hands are empty and your drinks all run dry, an old country western song crackles over the speakers and suddenly you’re being dragged out onto the floor by Mingyu who is hell bent on trying to replicate some old line dance you’re sure he’s fabricated in his foggy mind. Something about heels and toes, and being swung around your partner - it’s fun and somewhat terrifying when he’s nearly lifting you off the ground mid-spin. 

It’s not his fault that he’s got long legs and two left feet when he drinks so it’s mostly the two of you skipping in circles, laughing and completely out of breath, but it’s a blast. 

And then you catch something out of the corner of your eye that makes you stop dead in your tracks. Mingyu doesn’t even notice that you’ve stopped until he trips over your foot, looking down at you in confusion. “You givin’ up on me?”

“What the fuck is he doing here?” 

The voice comes from Joshua in the corner, which means somehow word spread about tonight’s falling out without you knowing, and now everyone is looking at your ex, boldly and moronically standing a few feet away from you which is several feet too close for their liking. Unsurprisingly, it’s Hoshi who’s already in his face, smiling in the most menacing fashion. “This is a private event so unfortunately for you, you’ll have to fuck off.”

Jae scoffs aloud, “I don’t give a shit about your party.”

Then his scowl twists into a smirk but it’s cruel and mirthless, his eyes falling on you and Mingyu who had at some point out of habit placed his body just in front of your own.

“I came for my girl but it looks like she’s already moved on for the night, throwing herself at one of you sorry assholes because I couldn’t make time for her. Typical.”

Mingyu anticipates you trying to step around him and quickly catches you around the waist to hold you back at the same time that Seokmin stands from his chair so quickly it falls backwards and lands with a loud clatter. “Watch your fucking mouth,” he warns menacingly. 

“Watch my mouth? I’m just pointing out that facts. I should have known that’s why she suddenly didn’t want me here,” he goes on like every pair of eyes on him aren’t glaring daggers, “Would have ruined her plans to get shit-faced and open her legs for whichever one of you looked at her first.”

Jeonghan hurls himself at Jae with an opened switchblade in his hand but, thankfully, Joshua and Jihoon catch him first, and the bastard laughs knowing none of them would let Jeonghan get close enough to do something stupid. Not with witnesses around anyway.

Jae tilts his head, speaking directly to Jeonghan with his hands in his pockets and condescention dripping from his tongue, “You’re her big brother,” he pouts, just pouring salt in the wound, “You’re really just going to sit back and allow all your friends to take turns with your little sister? The crew’s designated whor-”

He barely forms a smirk before Seungcheol appears out of nowhere and suckerpunches him in the mouth so hard the crack is audible throughout the bar. Unfortunately for Jae, he’s still conscious when he hits the ground, broken teeth and blood pouring from his maw as he screams in excruciating pain. You’re sure his jaw is broken and you’re glad. 

Absolutely no one moves to help him. Hardly even bats an eye.

Then, Seungcheol draws his leg back and kicks Jae in the stomach which means he’s not done and after what your ex just said…you’re not sure anyone in your crew will step in to stop him. You move instantly, pulling yourself out of Mingyu’s protective grip to push your way to the front where you’re relieved to see Vernon already attempting to pull his friend away and he does but not before your ex’s hand is crushed under the sole of Seungcheol’s boot and the screaming starts anew. 

When you reach them, you immediately put yourself in the middle without hesitation, both hands against Seungcheol’s chest in an effort to calm him down before he loses it completely. One of his hands is still clenched at his side and you’re trying desperately to get him to look down at you. He doesn’t but his other hand comes up to sit at your hip and that’s enough of an acknowledgement that you relax, just slightly. 

You turn just your head to look down at Jae who’s never looked more pitiful. Covered in blood, dirt, snot, and tears. 

Seungcheol glares over your shoulder at the broken man on the floor, his arm now firmly seated around your body in a possessive display as he growls, “Always running your fucking mouth,” then he nods in your brother’s direction, “I should let him cut your tongue out.”

Jeonghan’s knife spins dangerously between his deft fingers like he’s itching to use it. 

He’s no longer restrained, nearly deranged, and begins stalking toward your ex who flinches away and frantically shakes his head, unable to speak with his mangled mouth. Your voice cuts clear into the charged air. “Jeonghan,” you call out and your brother stops mid-step to look up at you patiently. You shake your head at him and he concedes but the fire in his eyes is palpable. 

He smiles down at Jae, voice lilting and deadly. “You’re safe…for now,” he tilts his head, crouching down to get closer, “And don’t bother running back to your crew for help or hope for some form of retaliation,” He pauses, covering his mouth with his knife, giggling with feral delight dancing in his eyes, “I bet you didn’t tell them where you were going or who you were fucking with because they never would have let you come and I can only imagine how pissed they’re going to be when they find out.”

Jae’s brows furrow indicating his confusion and Jeonghan laughs again, wiggling his long fingers, tapping them with the point of his blade. “How do you think your ring leader lost two fingers on his right hand? That pretty scar down the side of his face? It was an improvement if you ask me,” he croons and Jae’s eyes widen with renewed horror, “Loyal little lap dog ever since and hilariously, still harboring a rather sweet crush on my darling sister. Small world, huh? We’ll be sure to let him know how you feel about her and who’s responsible for,” he waves his hand with an air of distaste, gesturing to Jae, “This.”

When Jeongan stands again, his smile falls flat and you turn your head quickly, tucking it into Cheol’s chest when you hear the crunch and subsequent thud as your brother stomps and knocks Jae out cold. It’s cruel, perhaps, but now knowing who exactly he’s been working for, you’d consider this a mercy compared to wait awaits him.

Seungcheol lifts his chin with a silent order and Junhui and Mingyu are already stepping forward to haul Jae’s unconscious form out of the bar with Joshua leisurely striding behind them, Jae’s phone in hand. They’ll dump him outside, a few blocks away. He’s lucky they’re not animals - Josh will use Jae’s phone to deliver a personal message to his crew but beyond that, he’s no longer your crew’s problem. Retaliation isn’t even a concern in this situation.

The atmosphere is obviously soured and you can still feel the rage swirling in the air. There isn’t a single member of your crew who wouldn’t have loved a turn. Even Minghao, calm and even, the most level-headed in situations like this has a particular air of cruelty about him in the moment and Jessie at his side tucks away a glittering pair of brass knuckles. You don’t have to glance around to they are waiting for an order and Cheol still has his eyes focused on the door. There are also a few patrons who are not associated with your crew, the kind who know when to mind their business, but even they seem to be waiting to be told what to do next.

So, you clear your throat and try to paint on a pretty smile.

“Pardon the interuption,” you sigh, each head in the room swiveling in your direction, “Turn the music up and order another round for the whole bar,” you glance up to find Seuncheol already looking down at you and you pat his chest, “Drinks are still on the big guy so you’d better take advantage while he’s still feeling generous.”

Thankfully, its enough to get everyone moving again, your crew falling right back into the party swing as if nothing happened. It was so easy for them to flip the switch sometimes. From volatile back to joyous - back to shots, and karaoke, and dancing. 

Seungcheol was still furious though. He doesn’t bounce back nearly as fast.

“Why don’t we take a walk out back?”

He doesn’t budge for a moment and you say his name a little more firmly this time to which he reponds, “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry. Let’s go.”

No one asks questions or follows the two of you when he takes your hand and leads you out the back and into the crisp night air. It’s dark but the moon etches just enough light that you can still see each other easily. Seungcheol’s shoulders are tense and you watch his fists clench and unfurl methodically. They’re also red and angry after making direct contact with Jae’s teeth. The thought makes your gut roil.

“Choi Seungcheol,” you lightly grumble, “You can’t go around hospitalizing every asshole that is mean to me.”

Nothing at first and then there’s a little huff of laughter. “I can absolutely do just that, or worse. Besides, I only hit him once.”

“You broke his jaw…and probably a few ribs with that kick,” you sigh and lean back against the building, glancing up at the sky. “My point is that I know you can but that doesn’t mean you should. If you get arrested, who’s gonna take care of me?”

He smirks. “Spoiled.”

“Your fault,” you roll your eyes and really look at him. “I didn’t know he was working for Kaito, obviously. You know I would’ve cut him off completely If I had.”

“I didn’t know either,” he admits, shrugging off your surprise, “Jeonghan must have found out and kept it to himself. You know how he likes to hold onto things until its useful. Your brother is kind of a sadistic asshole sometimes.”

“Hannie is just eccentric and has weird hobbies,” you counter with a small grin, “Besides, he’s your best friend so think about what that says about you.”

He just winks in response. It’s maddening and attractive, per usual. 

“Mhm,” you hum quietly, pleased to watch him unwind in front of you, because of you. “I’m glad to see you’re in a better mood,” you tease him, “I thought for a few that you might have been mad at me.”

Cheol lets out a long sigh and digs his hands into his pockets. “I’m never mad at you.”

You cross your arms and quirk a brow at him, “That’s a blatant lie and you know it. I can’t even count how many times you’ve chewed my ass out for one thing or another.”

“The handful of times that I have yelled at you came directly after you did something dangerous,” he argues back with a short laugh, “Calling your ex, that fucker in particular, makes me question your judgement and maybe your sanity, but it’s not a reason for me to be mad at you. If anything it’s mild frustration.”

You narrow your eyes at him. It’s more than mild. “Say what you need to say, Cheol.”

He squares his shoulders, face serious much like his tone. “You’re too smart to keep choosing assholes that let you down over and over again. So, why do you do it?”

You purse your lips. “Touche,” he’s not wrong, “I am self aware enough to admit my track record is shit but there is not a lot to work with. It’s not as though our dating pool is stellar, Cheol. We’re lowlifes…we associates with other lowlifes. Nice boys like girls like me until they realize I’m not worth the trouble.”

He sputters out a laugh and steps closer, just enough to lower his voice in the echoing alley way. A touch closer and you could probably steal a little body heat you’re starting to wish for. “You are the trouble,” his eyes sparkle when he says it, like its a compliment, “Nice boys too soft for you anyway and we’re not lowlifes…we just live a little differently. You can do better,” he smirks when you roll your eyes again, “You can…you just don’t.”

You uncross your arms and spread them out before you. “Oh, any suggestions? I forgot you were a dating expert-” then you break into a laugh and Cheol is throwing his head back, knowing what’s coming. “Oh, wait! I forgot. You’ve not had a girlfriend in what? Five years? Eight?”

He snatches both your hands out of the air and pushes them back toward your chest, trying to reign in his amusement and overall urge to smother you. “You’re high maintenance enough. Why the hell would I need a girlfriend? I’ve got enough on my plate.”

You reach out and lightly punch him in the chest. “You’re a big boy, Cheol. Don’t let me hold you back. I can handle myself.”

At this, he snorts and pulls a hand out of his pocket to point at you. “You can handle yourself? Did I not pick you up in a police station two months ago for speeding…again?”

You pull off the wall with your mouth open to defend yourself and he abruptly pushes you right back against it and continues. “Who taught you how to drive and took the blame when you ran over Jeonghan’s bike when you were fifteen? Who showed up at three in the morning to pick your drunk ass up at that halloween party just so you could puke in my car and my bed…all night?” he pushes closer and lowers his voice “Who bailed you out of jail four months ago when you took a glass bottle to someone’s head in club and it turned out to be a fucking cop?”

“He looked like any other perv fondling girls on the dance floor!” You shout, eyes wide and wild as if someone would overhear, “How was I supposed to know he was a cop?! And why does it matter? He was a creep and I’d do it again!”

Seungcheol is simply dissolving into laughter, his earlier shit mood absolutely erased, and then as your volume grows he starts attempting to shush you though it’s half-assed. 

“Shhhh,” he laughs even harder, “I know, I know. I’m just teasing,” he grins when you finally crack a small smile, “Honestly, I was so proud of you that night. Took fifteen stitches to sew him back together and I hear it’s left a big ugly scar.”

You scoff in disbelief at his blatant pride. “Proud?! You chewed my ass out the entire way home.”

“Quit doing dangerous shit without me,” he shrugs unapologetically, “If you’re gonna get yourself in trouble, at least make sure I’m there to back you up.”

You roll your eyes, placing your cool hands under your chin to warm them. A cold wind whips through the alley, tossing his soft black hair around. Naturally, he steps into the wind’s path, blocking you from the worst of it because that’s what he does. It grants you the opportunity to slide a little closer and he chuckles, catching on very quickly to what you’re trying to do. Use him as both a human shield and personal heater. 

He looks down at you with that soft gaze you know is only reserved for you. As you’ve grown older together, you’ve learned that it’s best to avoid basking in it for more than a few seconds at a time. Your eyes dart down to his chest and back up again, not quite meeting his eyes this time. “It’s colder than I thought it would be tonight.”

He pulls your jacket a little tighter around you. “We can go back inside if you want.”

Whatever you want - it’s always whatever you want. Sometimes you just want to know what Seungcheol wants.

You hold eye contact with him now, just watching to see if his expression changes at all. It’s almost dizzying, staring at one another so closely. A stupid decision on your part, honestly.

“What if I asked you to take me home?”

Simple. “We can go home. Just gotta grab my key-”

You shake your head with a small laugh. “Actually, I think we should go back in and sing karaoke.”

His lips pull up, always quick to pick up on the game. “What song? I love karaoke.”

“Liar. You hate karaoke,” you grin, “Why do you give into anything I ask?”

His smile is so beautiful - it always has been. 

“I do not give into everything,” he corrects you and then huffs in amusement, “Go ahead, try your luck but put some actual thought into it. You know most things are negotiable for lowlifes like us.”

“Great! So, you’ll let me drive your car tomorrow night?” you bat your eyes at him soo prettily. It’s in the bag.

He hardly budges. “No,” comes from those plump lips more clearly than you’ve ever heard it in your life and you instinctually pout like a child which amuses him. “I said put some actual thought into it. You’re a terrible driver.”

“You also said to try my luck,” you answer and it comes out more like a grumble, “Which has apparently abandoned me tonight.” 

The way you drop your shoulders and pull yourself inward knocks him off kilter and his smile drops in a split second. When he speaks again, his voice is just a touch deeper - less playful, more gentle. The change is so slight that anyone else would miss it but you’ve got that shift of his rooted in your memory at this point. 

“Your luck? Maybe,” he tips his head in consideration, close enough that he’s slipped his arms around you, big hands splayed comfortingly against the middle of your back, “I’m still here though.”

You know you should put some space in between your bodies right now but that little voice that is usually telling you to mind your boundaries is so far away in the moment that you do the opposite. Closing the distance, you look up at him as you slip your hands around his waist beneath his jacket. “Yeah, you’re always here for me. Aren’t you?”

When he dips his head closer, his tone is surprisingly serious. “I hope that’s not an actual question at this point.”

His free hand comes up to catch the back of your neck as you move to pull away, to ask him to explain or just to confirm that what you’re feeling is mercifully mutually, but you’re trapped - body painted against Seungcheol’s in the moonlight. It’s probably the most intimate position you’ve ever been in with him and your heart thrashes in your chest.

“I’ve always been right here,” his nose and lips brush your cheek as he speaks, “Patiently waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” you ask too softly but he smiles, you can feel it against your skin.

“For you to get tired of playing house,” He chides gently, “You already have a home with me and you know it.”

To say it out loud for the first time is almost staggering for Seungcheol and it’s a devastating revelation for you. Each time you tried dating someone new it had felt like a cheap replacement to distract you from the despairing thoughts of loving Seungcheol and him not loving you back, but he was there. Watching, waiting, already belonging to you in every way the entire time. 

The first sound out of your mouth is escaped laughter. It’s soft and disbelieving. 

Seungcheol smiles as he pulls back enough to see your face. “You genuinely didn’t know?”

You shake your head back and forth, still laughing, and the dimples in his cheeks pinch as he’s rolling his eyes at you, snickering to himself. “You’re the worst. I seriously thought you were playing dumb on purpose,” he groans, though his hands meet in the middle of your back now, comfortably laced like he plans on staying this way for a while. “Tell me. Who are all those idiots in there to you?”

Easy. “They’re my brothers.”

“And who am I?”

Your lips twitch and he smirks. “You’re just…Seungcheol,” saying it makes everything so plain and simple. So obvious. “You’re my Seungcheol.”

“Exactly. Have I ever felt like a brother to you? Like just a friend?” he prods, pretty white teeth still on display. He’s going to drive his point home like always. 

“Listen, jerk,” you poke him in the chest with a long sigh, “Of course you never felt like those things to me. I didn’t want to see you as just a friend and definitely not as a brother, gross,” you grimace at the thought, “But just because I felt that way about you doesn’t mean I thought you felt the same. I thought it was all very one-sided and I was just going to eventually get over it.”

He raises a single brow. “And,” he blinks pointedly, “Have you gotten over it yet?

“Unfortunately not.”

“Good.”

Good because he’s truly out of patience at this point and he’s going to make sure you know exactly how he feels without question. 

And that’s how you find yourself caged up against the wall outside the bar, Seungcheol’s lips hungirly claiming your own. His hands trace your body outside your clothing until he gets tired of the separation and you jolt feeling his cold hands against your waist beneath your shirt. There isn’t a second of stillness. He’s constantly moving, shifting, giving, taking. 

You’re no better. 

The second he kissed you it was like a flood of energy zapping each and every one of your nerves. After your lips, your arms were quickly in motion, wrapping around his neck and shoulders. Fingers threading through and tugging at his hair. He touched you and kissed you so thoroughly that despite the fact that is freezing and you’re indeed, exposed outside while your friends are just on the other side of that back door, you want more. 

More, more, more. 

Seungcheol does too. 

“Let’s go,” he mumbles between your lips, still too enthralled to pull away. 

It makes you laugh, though it’s a little delirious because he’s back to sucking and biting pretty little marks onto your neck, and you peel your eyelids open to see the fog from your breath as you speak. “It’s Seok’s birthday,” your mouth pops open with a silent gasp as he bites you again, “We can’t just leave.”

He drags himself back up and meets your eyes, grinning, “Like hell we can’t. Go get in my car,” he digs his keys out of his pocket and passes them over, “I’ll let the boys know we’re leaving.”

You stand there for a moment, keys in your outstretched hand, “Wait!” you realize he’s already opening the door. He’s so serious. “What are you going to tell them?”

He shrugs, “That we have better things to do.”

Appalling. “Seungcheol!”

Now he’s smirking. “Alright, alright. I’ll tell them we’re leaving and going back to my place to fu-”

“SEUNGCHEOL!”

“You don’t want me to lie and you don’t want me to tell the truth,” he blinks back at you, “I am not sure what you want from me, baby.”

Well. Brain melted. If he’s calling you ‘Baby’ he can do whatever he damn well pleases. 

“I’ll be waiting,” you laugh, quickly spinning on your heel before you drag him away and he doesn’t get a chance to tell anyone you’re leaving. They probably wouldn’t notice for a few hours anyway. You shake your head, hurrying your steps toward his car. 

It feels like you’re waiting an eternity but it’s only been a few minutes and when you glance out the window he’s already hurrying back. You’re not sure if he just caught the first person he saw and told them to pass it on or if he walked in and announced it to the entire bar but you honestly don’t care. You’re maybe fifteen minutes from the garage, Cheol’s permanent (and your home away from) home. He’ll probably make it in eight with the way he drives. 

“I’m surprised to not find you in the driver’s seat,” he laughs, shutting the door and immediately bringing the car to life. 

“You’re the better driver and I’d like to get there quickly.”

Smirking, he smoothly backs out of his parking space and peels out onto the road. “I think you’re plenty good at speeding. If your record has anything to say about it.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Ok, so you’re better at speeding and not getting caught. This is why I handle the other business aspects.”

His hand slips over the middle and lands on your thigh, kneading and flexing possessively. 

Watching you handle business has always intrigued and infuriated him. You’ve swindled awful men out of house and home - lining your crew’s pockets with all the spoils. It had always been a fine line between letting you work while recognizing how good you were at your job and trying not to strangle every dickhead who thought that fake smile you gave them was genuine. “Might have to retire you now.”

You pout in his direction knowing his moody comment is nothing more than his protective, if not slightly dominant, nature coming through. He’s not at all serious, even if he’d like to be. “You gonna take care of me so I don’t have to work anymore?”

He grins at the suggestion. “You know I’ll take care of you, baby. Minghao is plenty good-looking. We’ll start using him instead.”

You snort at the thought. “You’re better off sending, Jeonghan. He's pretty, charming, and he knows exactly how to get what he wants out of anyone. Why do you think I’m so good at it? Learned from the best.”

“Yeah,” Cheol turns, the wheel smoothly gliding through his hand, “I don’t typically have to worry about you stabbing or torturing anyone though.”

“Typically?” you turn in surprise, laughing, “Are you saying it has been a concern?”

He looks at you with a brow quirked. “Once or twice,” he scoffs, “You are way more like your brother than you realize.”

“Oh? You got a thing for him too?”

He snickers in response, shaking his head. “Little shit.”

He squeezes the meat of your thigh again and you realize he’s shifted his hand higher, his fingers spread wide, the pads biting into your jeans. “Quit flirting with me and drive faster.”

The only sound that follows is his quiet amusement and the roar of the engine. 

Pulling into the garage, you’re feeling too charged from the quiet, electrifying tension. It makes you feel jerky, like every movement of your body takes too much effort and every surface you touch shocks your skin. You’re already eyeing the stairs leading up to his loft but he’s taking his sweet time coming around the front of his car, waiting for the garage doors to roll back down. You want to barrel straight into him but you don’t exactly trust your legs to carry you. 

The doors close with a loud thud and he looks over at you still standing near the passenger door. “You look nervous,” he smiles softly, making his way around the car until his hands are seated over your hips. “We don’t have to-”

“No, no, that’s not it,” you huff out a laugh, “I think all the anticipation made my body stop working. Everything is tingly and sharp, and I don’t think I can move. Stop laughing at me!”

He can’t. Seungcheol is simply beside himself. You really can’t blame him. Truly, too horny and excited to walk? That’s got to be a new one. It certainly is for you. 

“I can carry you, it’s fine.”

But he is still shaking with laughter and we’re talking a whole ass flight of stairs. It’s not fine, though Cheol is already scooping you up and you're frantically trying to situate yourself on his back because that seems like the safest option and you’re already off the ground. He’s not putting you back down until you’re both behind closed doors. 

“Oh my god,” you bury your face in his shoulder as he takes the first few steps up the stairs, “This is such a bad idea!”

His hands are firmly seated beneath your thighs and your arms are wrapped so tightly around his shoulders that you’re not even shifting much as he carries you but it’s nerve wracking and honestly, a bit embarrassing. He’s incredibly proud and stubborn so there really is no hope in convincing him to put you down anyway.

“Stop panicking,” he laughs, now halfway up the stairs, “I’m not even struggling so your lack of faith in me is hurting my feelings. You act like you’ve never seen me workout. I do it for a reason.”

“I thought the reason was just because you like to beat people up.”

He huffs in amusement, “Fighting isn’t fun when you’re not winning.”

“Well, you always win so you must be having a blast,” you pinch his earlobe, rolling your eyes since he can’t catch you doing it.

When he reaches the landing, he digs into his pocket, unlocking the door with one hand and then kicking it shut once you’re both inside. Then he lets you slide down his back but before your feet actually hit the ground, he’s spinning around to pick you right back up. He laughs at the sound you make, quickly grabbing his shoulders and crossing your ankles at his back. Cheol flips the lock on the door and takes you into the small kitchen, setting you down on the counter. 

“I always win when you’re watching,” he plants his hands on either side of you, leaning closer, “You get mad at me when I don’t, so, I stopped losing.”

He looks up at you with a boyish grin and you bring your hands up, lightly touching his cheeks with your finger tips. You’ve seen his soft skin mottled with bruising more times than you cared to think about. “I don’t care about losing,” you murmur, lost in thought, “I just hate it when you get hurt.”

Tracing a finger over his right brow you remember that night years ago when he returned from a job with it split wide open, blood dripping down his pale face. Busted lips, fractured ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and an awful limp. It was the first time you ever saw him so…broken.

You yelled at him for getting hurt but cradled his face in your hands the whole time. While Minghao sutured it closed, you continued cursing at him and everyone else who’d gone out that night but you never let go of his hand. When Joshua reset Cheol’s shoulder and he nearly passed out from the pain, you sobbed. For days you’d been furious with him yet you stayed over at his place for almost two solid weeks to take care of him. 

Putting him back together with your own two hands was the only way you could convince yourself that he was okay and from then on, you accompanied him on most jobs. Anytime things got messy, he’d come out victorious, and the very few times you weren’t there, he returned nearly unscathed. Bloodied knuckles at most. 

Your fingers must have drifted down to his lips because he kisses them and it brings you back to the present. He smiles against your fingertips and you move them under his jaw, out of the way, just so you can kiss him again. It’s soft, slow, adoring and his hands slide into place right at your lower back, his fingers pushing beneath your shirt to stroke your skin. 

When they make contact, his fingers spread wide, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. It makes your back arch, pitching your hips forward, and leaves you sitting poised for the taking but even then he takes his time. In the back of your mind, you’re sure he can feel your heat against his groin and it must be driving him just as insane as it does you.

Despite the body heat, when he pushes your shirt up a little further with his busy hands, you shiver at how cold you still are. It’s accompanied by a breathy little gasp that makes him pull away grinning, eyes still watching your mouth. “Still cold?”

“Yeah,” you admit, “Do you ever turn the heat on in this place?”

“Only when you’re here. I don’t usually need it.”

Of course not. Big manly man. 

“You’re going to need it if you’re still hoping to get my clothes off.”

Cheol pays no mind to your change in tone. The one you use to nag him to death. Instead he scoops you right off the counter, starting toward his bedroom. “I can warm you up myself just fine,” he says in an equally haughty kind of way. 

The kind of way that shuts you up because the only other thing that you could possibly manage is some pathetic giggle. He even makes a show of hanging onto to you with only one arm because he’s just so strong and you humor him with an ‘oh wooooow’ that makes him crack, laughing as he lets you slowly drop to the floor.

Your hand remains on his chest, nervously pinching at his shirt as you look around the room. You’ve been in here before just…not for anything like this. “Why does this feel normal and not normal at the same time,” you pause, realizing there is actually something different that you hadn’t noticed right away. 

Seungcheol let’s his hands drop away so you can walk over to his dresser to sate your…curiosity? Surprise? “You said I needed more personal decorations around the house,” he clears his throat, watching as you carefully lift his picture frames off the furniture to examine them, “I figured pictures were personal enough.”

There is one of Cheol as a teenager standing proudly beside his first car. Another with a few members of the crew all grinning around a card table. You loosen a soft laugh remembering that night clearly. Mingyu and Hoshi shouting over the table like banshees…all because Hoshi got caught cheating and blamed it on his favorite designated target. 

You pick up one you don’t recognize but smile at the familiar faces hanging out of the windows of a car you do recognize vaguely. The job details were hazy but you know you remember that car for some reason.

Seungcheol must have noticed you squinting at it because he comes over and stands behind you, pointing at the picture. “You don’t remember this one because you broke into a case of wine coolers the moment we were all home and accounted for,” he chuckles, his breath tickling your cheek, “Almost seven years ago now.”

“I hated waiting for you guys to come home,” you pout, pointing to the picture, “Why do I remember this car though? It’s so familiar.”

He laughs again and this time you spin toward him like the reason he is laughing is clearly painted on his face. It’s not but he fills in the blanks without prompting.

“Jeonghan caught you in the backseat of that exact car making out with Seungkwan, of all people,” Cheol grins at your grimace “We hauled you both off to bed, tucked you in, and agreed not to tell a soul. I honestly don’t think he knows about it either. You guys were wasted.”

“I definitely do not remember doing that but I did oddly stop drinking wine coolers not long after that night,” you sigh, tucking away the embarrassing story to kick your self over later.

“Guilty subconscious?” 

Shrugging off your jacket you give him a fake laugh which eventually morphs into a grin. “Were you jealous back then?”

He takes your lead, removing his clothes one piece at a time. “I was always jealous,” he admits and you let yourself stop to watch as he grabs at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. It leaves him only in his jeans, belt already unbuckled. 

You’re the opposite, jeans kicked to the side, but your hands rest on your shirt, too busy looking at Seungcheol to force yourself to keep moving. He’s no better, eyes glued to your hips, to your underwear, your legs, and then his eyes bounce back up to your face, finally noticing the way you’re looking at him.

He takes a slow step forward and then another.

“I’m not perfect,” he cautions, another step closer, “I’m stubborn and jealous,” one more step until you’re touching, “I don’t like sharing. If one of the guys flirts with you, even as a joke, I’ll probably rip their head off. Might happen more than once but I’ll get over it eventually, I promise.”

“Hmm,” you smirk as he stops so closely you can feel the heat coming of his body, “A little sensitive?”

“Maybe.” His smile is so pretty and disarming because now his hands are on you, palms rubbing circles into your hips before sliding back and down over your ass. “You’ve been chipping away at my self control for over a decade and now you’re half-naked in my bedroom. I’ve hit my breaking point, baby. I’m going to be selfish with you.”

You shift just enough to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it in the general direction of your pants, and settle your arms around his shoulders. “I think it’s only fair because I have always been selfish with you and i’ll be so much worse now,” you grin and he let’s out a heavy, husky chuckle, tightening his thick arms around you, “I’m going to be a menace.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“I’m still cold.”

Then he’s kissing you again, your hands quickly moving from his shoulders to his waist, pushing his jeans as low as you can before he’s forced to part and pull them the rest of the way off, laughing and stumbling with you toward the bed. You land first, quickly shuffling under the comforter for warmth and he’s right behind you, rolling you onto your back to cover you with his body. It’s an added layer of heat and you wiggle beneath him when his thigh pushes between your legs. 

Seungcheol wants everything all at once and hates having to choose but loves knowing he’ll get the opportunity to do it all in good time. For now, he can’t seem to keep away from your lips, can’t stop the noises he makes everytime you tug at his hair or scrape your nails against his back and he hopes to god they leave bright red scratches in their wake. 

He wants to watch you get shy and embarrassed when he works out with them on full display. His ego is a beast and it’s going to be riding a high for a while.

When you push up against him, he gives you a little space to quickly undo your bra before it’s tossed to the floor and he’s slipping a little lower, his face pressed against your soft, warm chest. His mouth dances from one breast to the other and you moan into the open air of his bedroom, one of your hands still rubbing his back, smoothing over his muscles mindlessly. His perfect teeth graze your nipples and you grind down against his thigh. 

He pushes it higher and repeats the action over and over until you’re steadily working yourself up and then he shifts, taking that relief away from you. Your eyes pop open in surprise but he kisses you again before you can speak and his right hand slides into your panties, wet and uncomfortably cool against your folds now that his thigh is gone. 

He doesn’t waste time, running his middle and ring finger up and down until they’re so slick-coated that there is hardly any resistance when he slips them inside you, stroking up against that spot that has you arching your back off the bed. It’s almost cruel how quickly he gets you there and even worse that he hardly touches your clit before you come, stars flashing behind your eyes. 

Seungcheol kisses your face through it, whispering sweet, filthy praises against your skin. That’s my girl, you’re so fucking good for me, baby. Sound so pretty right now, wanna hear you say my name just like that.

It’s a miracle you don’t come again the second he pushes into you because he doesn’t stop talking unless his mouth is occupied and he’s too good at multitasking. The only time you get a break from his wicked words is when he’s bottoming out and your ears are ringing so loudly that you can’t even hear him anymore. He must realize it too because his mouth was moving and now, he’s just grinning, eyes trained on your lips when he draws his hips back a little and pushes back in. 

His pace varies because he likes watching the breath get caught in your throat, breaking up the gorgeous sounds spilling from your lips. For all the taunting and talking he’s done, he’s just as worked up as you are and suddenly sits up on his knees which changes the angle. He spreads your thighs further apart, almost crudely, and props your ass a bit higher. At first, he wraps his hands around your thighs for leverage, digging his fingers into your skin but it’s not enough, he needs more. 

When he moves his hands to either side of your waist, he locks in the perfect position to go as deep as possible and the sounds you begin making are far more desperate, the pitch swinging higher and higher until he’s moaning and panting, driving into you faster and harder than before. You know you’re going to come again, and fast, so when your eyes meets his, and he purses his lips, letting spit drop from his plump lips onto your clit, he doesn’t have to tell you aloud what to do. 

You bring your own hand down, rubbing yourself until your limbs start twitching. Your breaths are so shallow and ragged, your fingertips messily bumping against the base of his cock where he plunges in and out of your cunt recklessly. He looks just as far gone as you do but the second your eyes meet, he smirks and it’s your absolute undoing. 

When you orgasm for the second time it’s so intense that all of your muscles lock up aside from your legs which shake uncontrollably and Seungcheol groans, hips stuttering when he feels the overabundance over warm liquid spilling out around his cock, splashing against his groin and stomach, dripping onto the bed. He stills, filling you so completely full that you can’t even breath without adding to the mess you’ve both created. 

It takes several long minutes of heavy panting and blinking to get your heads on straight and he still doesn’t pull out. Not even when he slumps down against you, grinning and kissing you lazily. He’s doesn’t give a single fuck about the mess, even going to so far as pumping his hips a few times, laughing when you hide your face under your arm at the lewd sounds echoing through the room. 

It’s playful at first, those half-hearted thrusts, but then his kisses turn into little nips, his mouth starts spilling those dirty words in your ear and it’s not long until you can feel him getting hard inside of you again, having never pulled out in the first place. He keeps fucking into you slowly, swallowing the sound of your whining, revelling in the way your nails no longer just rake over his skin but painfully dig into it over his shoulder blades. 

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t speed up. Doesn’t give you the chance to wiggle away from him when the sharp tingling of overstimulation bleeds into, “Oh, fuck, Cheol, I’m gonna come again…fuck…”

And you do until tears stream down your face and he pulls out, flips you over, and puts it right back in, fucking you brutally until he’s moaning and cumming, and you’re nearly ready to pass out in the bed you’ve both absolutely ruined. You hear him speaking but can’t make out the words and then maybe your eyes close because you’re sated and exhausted. 

It doesn’t last long though because Seungcheol is attempting to drag you from sleep because he needs to clean you both up and change the sheets before anyone crashes for the night but you’re not budging. 

Until you feel the sensation of thick fingers pushing into your cunt and you mumble aloud, “Absolutely no…straight to jail.”

Seungcheol laughs at you having not even moved when you said it and removes his hand. “I tried waking you up nicely and you kept ignoring me. Besides, it’s all starting to spill out and I like seeing you full. If you keep laying here I’m going to end up fucking it all back in and giving you more.”

Rolling onto your back takes an incredible amount of willpower and Cheol’s helping hands because your hips are stiff as all hell. He’s patient, not pushing beyond your limits even though you’re sure he could go a few more rounds without tiring in the least. Affection swirls in your chest and it takes him by surprise when you reach a hand up and around his neck to pull him down to your lips. 

HIs body relaxes into the bed, pressing his weight more firmly into the mattress to keep the pressure light where it covers your own. He kisses you tenderly, his hands moving softly and slowly over your skin, and your mind is emptied of all but the feel of him. It’s overwhelming, how deeply attuned you are to one another and yet your body continues to demand more. 

Your kiss is broken off in a choked moan, Seungcheol’s, when your hand snakes between your bodies. He drops his forehead to yours, taking in a deep, shaky breath when you rub the head of his cock into the mess between your folds. “Again?” he questions, even as his hips push forward of their own accord. 

“Again…” you breathe out, tipping your face up to catch his bottom lip with a gentle nip, “..and again, and again, and agai-”

The delirious smile on your face drops open as he pushes back inside. Your tight, swollen cunt aches with the intrusion but each shockwave that pulses through you is laced with pointed pleasure. The effort to keep his pace even and gentle is difficult but Cheol finds very quickly that there is something incredibly arrousing about slow, deep, intimate fucking. 

He’s never experienced anything like it because he’s never had you. 

Yet here you are beneath him, clawing at his back and shoulders, moaning against his throat, and he knows it will only ever be like this with you. He knew he was ruined for all others years ago but in this moment he fully understands the weight of it. 

Seungcheol will never want anyone but you.

And when you unravel together again, you look into his eyes and know it too.

The next morning it takes an unprecidented amount of effort to wake up.

Your body aches and joints pop in too many places when you stretch your limbs as if you’ve been asleep for years and not mere hours. It’s easy to pinpoint the loss of warmth at your side, Seungcheol hardly ever sleeps in and it’s evident by the smell of fresh coffee wafting in through the open bedroom door. 

Slipping into the shirt he’d left you and your jeans from last night, you wander in and out of the bathroom and head straight to the kitchen. Cheol knows you don’t drink coffee but you do love the smell of it so the sight of a full, almost untouched pot makes you laugh. His mug sits abandoned in the sink so you rinse it out and refill it, carefully balancing the full cup in your hands as you leave his apartment and head down the stairs into the garage. 

Joshua is the first person you find, unsurprising as he never seems to get hungover no matter how much he drinks the night before. He’s sitting at one of the work tables pouring over a set of blue prints for a new job when you walk by, chuckling and swatting away your hand when you ruffle his hair. “Morning Joshie.” He waves over his shoulder as you keep walking.

It’s relatively quiet in the garage for a Saturday morning but most of your crew is probably passed out from the evening prior. You would have stayed in bed longer too if someone wasn’t missing from it - someone you still haven’t found. Instead, you happen upon Jeonghan and Mingyu working on an engine…you think…again, not your expertise. 

“Well, well, well,” Jeonghan drawls as he catches you approaching from the corner of his eye, “If it’s not my darling little sister,” he grins and leans over to kiss your cheek when you stop in front of him, “Whatever are you doing here, in the garage, smelling like sex and coffee, so early on this delightful Saturday morning?”

You give your brother a deadpan stare and Mingyu snickers behind him. 

“Where’s Cheol?”

“Bringing in another delivery with Jun in the back,” Mingyu mumbles half-way under the hood with tools in hand, “Should be finishing up soon.”

Jeonghan leans against the car and crosses his arms. “Is this an official thing?”

You know he’s only asking because he loves you both so deeply that if there were any chance of it being a fling where feelings are inevitably going to be trampled, he’s putting an end to it immediately. He’s so fiercely protective that he’d step in to protect you from yourselves without hesitation.

“That man would have to be thirty feet deep in the ground to leave me.”

“Isn’t the saying ‘six-feet deep’?” Mingyu laughs, still focusing on his task.

“I said what I said and honestly thirty-feet still might not be enough - you’ll probably have to bury me with him.”

Jeonghan relaxes, shrugging off the tension in his body with a loose laugh. “Good to know,” he grins, eyes soft and gentle once more, “I always knew you’d end up together once you both gave up the world’s most stubborn ass competition.”

He’s not wrong. Who knew a little communication could go a long way? Certainly not you and Cheol.

Two cars pull up outside the open garage door across the way and you wiggle your fingers in greeting when Vernon, Hoshi, Wonwoo and Jihoon all pop out looking absolutely exhausted. You turn and set Cheol’s mug down on the counter behind you and pull out a stool to take a seat and hang out. 

“Wonwoo wouldn’t let us stop for breakfast please tell me there are still leftovers from lunch in the fridge,” Hoshi complains loudly. He absolutely still looks a little drunk.

Jihoon shoves him to the side and makes a beeline for the fridge around the corner, the two of them cursing and bickering as they go. Wonwoo and Vernon pull up a stool next to you and now you’re feeling a little guilty for only bringing one mug down. 

“Where’s Cheol?” Wonwoo asks, pushing his glasses up and shaking out his messy hair.

Jeonghan tosses a thumb in his direction, “Delivery.”

Wonwoo nods and Vernon taps your shoulder. “Hey, you’re here kinda early. Where did you go last night? Lost you at some point.”

Your cheeks heat. There are some of the guys you make crude jokes with and some you don’t - both Vernon and Wonwoo being on one side while Mingyu and Jeonghan are on the opposite. “Oh, I uhhh-”

“Notice anyone else missing last night?”

“Jeonghan-”

Vernon’s brows pinch together in thought. Mingyu stands up, setting down his tools before wiping his hands on his pants. “You know,” he grins, “Guy who lives in a garage, goofy laugh, kinda mean…”

Wonwoo breaks out in hysterics and Vernon’s grin is entirely visible though you’re sure he is trying to make it disappear when he says, “Oh! Oh okay…yeah…that makes sense. So, you’re like…yeah?”

You snort in response nodding your head. “Mhm, we’re like yeah.”

“Who’s like what?” Hoshi says around a mouthful, coming up to join you with Jihoon stomping past him empty-handed to go help Joshua. 

“Her and Cheol finally got together,” Wonwoo supplies and Hoshi’s eyes light up.

“Oh my god!!! That’s so exciting!” he dances over and drops his food on the counter, which Mingyu picks up to polish off while he’s distracted. Hoshi wraps you in a bear hug you try to fight off and then you’re up and out of your chair being squeezed and swung around, “This is such great news!!!”

Thwap.

Hoshi blinks and you slide to the floor. When he touches the back of his head, it’s wet and he turns to find a rag on the ground. It takes less than two seconds to figure out who threw it because it’s Seungcheol’s thundering voice that calls out, “Put her down and get to work, asshole.”

“Asshole?” Hoshi mutters, kicking the rag, “I’m the asshole?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, “Oh, he’s going to be unbearable,” he smacks your arm lightly, “Hey, do us all a favor. Take him back upstairs and tie him up or something would ya?”

“Inappropriate,” you snort just before big familiar arms wrap around you from behind. 

“Morning baby,” he breathes against your hair before he’s planting a hot kiss on the side of your neck, “Sleep well?”

Everyone very quickly finds a way to mind their own business. 

“Slept just fine,” you smile, turning your head to kiss him properly. “Now apologize to Hoshi, you beast.”

He sighs, dropping his head dramatically against your shoulder. “Hoshi!” he shouts across the way, “I’m sorry. Order breakfast for everyone on me.”

“All is forgiven, bro!” Hoshi salutes him in response and the others start gathering to make their requests. Food fixes almost anything in this house.

Cheol laughs and kisses your hair. “Happy?”

“Very,” you hum, turning in his arms, “Brought you coffee but it might be cold by now.”

“That was nice of you.” Now that you’re finally getting a good look at him you see he’s wearing the dark blue cargo pant, white tank top combo that drives you fucking insane. You’ll sit for literal hours on end just to watch him work on the cars in that exact outfit. Even better when he’s got oil smatterings here and there. The thick leather gloves he sometimes has hanging out of his back posket when not in use. 

Mechanic Seungcheol is one of your favorite fantasies sprung to life.

“I wasn’t doing it out of the kindness of my own heart,” you retort, “I was trying to get something out of you in return.”

“Oh?” he smirks, “Like what?”

“Kiiiinda hoping I’d get you back upstairs for a few favors.”

His hands slide along your arms until he’s managed to bring them up and around his neck and then he’s got you caged in, clasping his own low on your back. “I’m sure we can make time for that,” he mumbles along the seam of your lips, brazenly, and very openly making out with you in the next breath like there aren’t several people in the garage along with you.

“MAKE IT QUICK. WE’VE GOT SHIT TO DO.”

Cheol tosses up a middle finger in Jeonghan’s general direction and shouts back, “Well, I’ve got your sister to do and that’s more important. Work can wait.” Your mouth pops open in amusement and he takes advantage of your distraction to hoist you up into his arms, making his way toward the stairs to his apartment again. When he speaks again, it’s only loud enough for you, “I think I’ve got just enough time to fuck you over the kitchen counter and make a fresh pot of coffee before I have to come back down, whoop your brother’s ass, and get back to work.”

“Your time management skills are-” you cling onto him a little tighter as he starts up the steps, “- very impressive.”

“You should see my oral presentation skills.”

With that in mind, you lean over his shoulder and shout down, “YOU CAN HAVE HIM BACK IN AN HOUR.”

“AN HOUR?!” Jeonghan hollers back, absolutely exasperated because he knows this is going to be an ongoing battle for months if not years on end. “WHAT PART OF WE GOT SHIT TO DO DID YOU TWO NOT UNDERSTAND?”

Cheol sighs and puts you down to open the door, hanging over the railing with a flat look on his face. “I’ll rip the transmission out of your car with my bare hands and toss it into the river if you open this door.”

Jeonghan scoffs but Cheol grins and cuts him off, “And then i’ll take the knife in your glovebox and split open every individual stitch in the interior.”

Those are serious fighting words between car guys. You think.

Jeonghan narrows his eyes and then huffs, hands on his hips. “You guys are the worst.”

Cheol blows your brother a kiss as you drag him inside and you can catch a hint of amusement on Jeonghan’s face just before you seal yourselves inside. 

You’re okay with being the worst, so is Seungcheol. 

Maybe being a couple of lowlifes isn’t such a bad thing after all.

Thanks for reading! 💖

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→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfgyuu, 2019. ©️

[pomefioredove]

may I please request Headcanon of the overblot gang + Adeuce when a reader that’s normally very sweet and shy goes absolutely apeshit and TEARS INTO some bully, absolutely roasting the hell out of them please? Thank you :3

of course anon!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ going apeshit!!!!

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, ace, deuce, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

being the magicless newcomer makes you a favorite target for some of Night Raven College's less kindly students.

your loved ones know this, too, so when a group of brutish first years approach, they're ready to defend you. except...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Riddle had seen them coming towards you and already had his hand on his magical pen

how stupid of them to pick on you in his presence

a week or two without their heads would serve them well

but before he can even step between you and the ruffians (very gallantly, I might add; he had it all planned out in his head),

you just...

...oh

even he blushes at the profanity you spew

he didn't even get to scold them

...then you turn back to him with that same sweet smile as if nothing had happened

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ace had actually been the first student to get an earful from you

once at the beginning of the year, and never again

now, he takes great pleasure in watching you verbally eviscerate the other students

it's a... guilty pleasure, we'll say

and Deuce knows not to intervene

he tried... once

after all, he's been in your place before

nothing's better than the feeling of putting some snob in his place

BUT OF COURSE, that's the old Deuce

...he just lets you go on because he knows he can't stop you

...not because he's enjoying it. obviously

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

and here Leona was, thinking you were some helpless little herbivore...

but can you blame him?

you're always so... cute

skipping around Savanaclaw, all happy to be helping out Ruggie and Jack after practice...

you were bound to run into trouble, looking like an easy meal

he almost feels... bad for you...

but before he can step in and tell the freshies to buzz off, you...

damn, you've got a mouth on you

you switch up real quick on them, and they scamper off to go lick their wounds

color him impressed...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul was on his way back to the dorm when he heard you shout

you sounded... upset

and as much as he would like to, he can't just walk by and let you get bullied

damn sympathy...

so, he follows the sound of your voice, ready to intervene... on...

...nothing

a group of embarrassed freshman run past him, scattering in the opposite direction

he steps around the corner

and there you are, perfectly fine, if not a little winded

...of course

and he didn't even get to be your hero... tch

"Always full of surprises, aren't you? Just don't give Floyd any of those new words to use,"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

it's none of his business... it's none of his business...

until it is his business

Jamil wouldn't have come running to your rescue like some prince

but he is in the middle of a civil conversation with you!

how insulting! honestly!

those freshmen must take him for some kind of witless fool

just this once, he'll teach them not to disrespect him...

of course, he doesn't even get a word in

he's never seen anyone so...

so...

...brutal

your insults are poignant, your tone sharp and dangerous, your usage of puns perfect...

you're like a work of art

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil has no problem with putting others in their place

and he has a particular dislike of the brutish, arrogant students at NRC

he can actually sense their unwashed presence in the hall before he sees them

one little snide comment and...

...oh...

oh, my

you verbally tear them to shreds, insulting everything from their shoes to their posture, their cowardice, even their own insults

...goodness

he's going to have to have a talk with you about your language later

but, for now...

...he's enjoying this little performance of yours

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia starts the most heated discourse over his faves and biases online, but this is different

this is real life

and the second he can feel a shift in the atmosphere, he's hiding behind you

you can handle it yourself, right? you've done it before!

honestly, he has no clue how you deal with the normies at this school

delusion, probably

he'd die if anyone talked to him the way they talk to...

...NEVER MIND!

you're using words he hasn't even heard in real life

even he is freaked out

you can get real scary when you want to, huh?

...maybe he'll just stick with you for now...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

poor Malleus

he actually kinda sorta wanted to defend your honor...

he could be your fairytale prince!!! he could!!

it's the gentlemanly thing to do, anyway

and, better yet, he wouldn't even have to say anything! just one glare from him and the perpetrators would run screaming

...the one benefit to his reputation

but, of course,

you are not as innocent and weak as you seem

and he can't help but feel... impressed? with your ability to defend yourself

after this is all over, he'll have to joke that you should join his guard

[dear-ao3]

friends, besties, worsties, davids, and meow meows of the jury. i have a tale for you. while i claim to be no bard (like saph, the queen of very long dramatic tumblr stories that make your heart weep), i must spin a wee bit of yarn in the form of a story. what story? a story of the green cake.

we shall, as most stories do, start almost at the beginning.

the date? january 2nd.

the time? late.

the occasion? saph comes home the third.

the problem? i have no butter or sugar.

now, saph's birthday was recently, so like any other best bud i said i was making a cake. i believe my exact words were 'i'm making you a cake whether you like it or not."

now, gang, i must level with you. this is the fourth cake i've made in my life. i am a reasonably good baker (i can bake a Mean Loaf of Bread), but i'm not a very experienced baker. 3/4 cakes were reasonably good, and only one was just slightly off. so, my track record is mixed, but i am hopeful.

now, let me take you to the present.

i am sitting at my dining room table, typing this post. i am wearing a shirt covered in flour, the green cake is in the oven.

how did i get here?

well, we won't go to the beginning. we've already seen what was basically the beginning, with me having no butter or sugar. the real story begins the morning of january 3rd. which is today. which is when saph comes home, expecting a green cake. as most reasonably well adjusted people do when their roommates parents are visiting, i stressed cleaned the entire apartment at 4am, after realizing the mice in my walls are fucking. i did not leave them a condom. i did not have one that would fit them. i can only hope they have plan b. so naturally, i went to bed at 6am.

and i still had no sugar or butter for the green cake for saph.

and i needed to get started on this cake before 10am, or saph would be here before it was finished.

and i went to bed at 6am. so naturally i set my 9:00, 9:02, 9:04, 9:06 alarms, and hoped i'd lock in when i woke up.

friends, i hate to admit it, but i did not lock in. nay, i slept through all of my alarms and woke up at roughly 9:45. it was cold, damp, and the mice were still probably fucking. i threw my hair into a messy bun, and ran downstairs, only to find my mom was selling me to one direction.

jk. it was far worse.

because saph said she had sent me something.

what did saph send me?

a full poster of david malukas! do i know why? no! but he lives in my kitchen now, providing me with mental support. thanks david!

so, i begin to make the cake after laughing for about 10 minutes about why david is now in my apartment. it starts off surprisingly well. i have not forgotten the salt.

everything is normal.

until i remember.

the cake needs to be green.

why? idk thats what saph said she wanted so i am just going to do what i was told to do and make this damn cake green.

but its now late in the process, and if there is one thing i have learned in all my years of watching the great british baking show with my mom, it is to never over beat your cake.

and my cake, right now, was perfect. trust me. i ate plenty of dough to know it was wonderful.

so now i am trying to figure out how to make the most perfect shade of nico rosberg green, feeling a bit like an alchemist. david malukas is staring me down. my time grows shorter and shorter with each beat.

and then, gang, i had to give up on this being nico rosberg green. i did not want to kill my cake. my green cake. my now mint-green cake that i am baking for saph. so naturally i'm like, okay, time to pour this.

easy, right?

WRONG.

so one thing to know about me is i suck at cutting things.

it's unfortunately a key ingredient in cake making that you have a stupid little circle on the bottom of your cake tins. i cut it the best i could. which was bad. so i'm already fighting demons trying to get the stupid parchment paper from sliding every which way, and then, my friends, i realized something horrible.

the batter had not mixed at the bottom. so now i was fighting even more demons and trying not to get loose flour in my cake.

i think i succeeded. only time will tell. david is watching. the cake is almost done.

i am setting the green cake free.

look upon him now, and weep. the green cake prevails! even though he doesn't look very green yet.

and now, for the hardest part. frosting.

let's see how that goes.

david still watches.

[bkgexe]

if all else fails, i was myself

bakugou x reader ✾ 4.6k

info! no smut sorry gang ✾ tw! trust issues that manifest as issues w physical intimacy/contact, dubcon in its vaguest definition (NOT bkg & reader) ✾ notes! ive been in perpetual writers block for months. is this trite idk. i miss my baby but anytime i write for him im like oops this is gonna be 60k words!!! so here is. a drabble lmao. also big lmao moment this is titled after count me out by kendrick lamar ldskfjdlkjf which was on repeat while writing so uh sorry mr. lamar abt the mha fanfic

katsuki has always known that part of him is wrong.

he’s never liked being touched. every kiss he’s experienced has made him tense as an elevator cable poised to snap. any attempt to go further than that has made him a little ill, made his gut feel like a stack of loose papers being torn to shreds, slow and loud.

it doesn’t help that he’s only ever had three kisses in his life: eijirou at a new year’s party (too many teeth), eijirou again at another new year’s party nearly a decade later (too much tongue), and then his fourth date with kyoka (when he tried to convince himself he just had to push through the discomfort to become normal).

things went further than that. it was a mistake. they both knew it right after it happened—kyoka first, and then katsuki after his head stopped pounding with what if i'm doing this wrong what if she's pitying me for fucking this up what if i don't know how to touch another person correctly what if i was supposed to learn at some point and i missed it how could i fucking miss it will it always be like this because i can't do this again i can't i don't—

“kat," she said after. she looked at him with something only a few degrees removed from pity, and poorly removed at that.

he attempted a halting non-apology. he attempted a real apology. failed at both.

"it's okay, you know," she said. "to not like it."

he scoffed even though he wasn’t entirely clear on what she meant by it, because there was so much he didn’t like. “i like it just fine.”

“if that was liking it, I’m honestly worried about your capacity for enjoying life in general.” it wasn’t a joke. her bluntness was something that'd made katsuki think he could push his boundaries with her. all of her thoughts were laid out plain for him to read, an open-source journal. “i'm just saying you don't have to like it. and you don’t have to force yourself to do things you don’t want to do. don't fuck yourself over for someone else's happiness.”

kyoka still texts him often, checks in, invites him to drinks with their friends. she’s kind. she’s normal. she doesn’t have this weird, shredded thing inside her that makes her balk at the idea of someone’s hand on her skin. that makes her think she's doing something wrong, even if she's not the one that initiated the touch.

when you started your job at the front desk of katsuki’s agency, he never thought that he'd be here, wishing above everything that he could just be normal. just for one fucking day, so he could laugh at your shitty jokes and maybe brush his knuckles across the back of your hand in passing and take you on a date where he could kiss you in his car after driving you home and the thought wouldn’t make his skin crawl, wouldn't tear up his insides to pulp.

because he fucked everything up. he's standing in his empty office where you'd been spending time with him and he fucked it up and hurt you and he's not sure how to unfuck it.

the thing is, he could grin and bear it. he could deal with the odd thing inside him that hates the contact and white-knuckle it through every kiss, every caress. but he’s never been a great actor. he wouldn’t be able to hide that from you.

(kyoka told him, years later, that it’s not that the sex itself wasn’t fine—what made it nearly unbearable for her was the fact that she could tell, only after it was too late, that being physically vulnerable with her pained him far more than he was willing to reveal.)

no one wants to feel like the person they’re with is grinning and bearing it. that they’re white-knuckling it through. katsuki knows this. he knows he’s basically a fucking virgin all but in title at thirty and that he’s got the personality of a dried-out fig you find in your fridge weeks after its last edible moments. he doesn't have much to offer.

but he walked into work one day and nodded at you, curt, a grimace on his face—and you smiled at him so kindly that his stomach twisted.

with you, it wasn't the feeling of something being torn apart. it was different, lighter. leaves wrenched into the sky by a strong breeze. still a kind of tearing, but different—less destructive.

he was wearing a deep carmine sweater his mom sent him in one of her bi-monthly care packages (as if he’s not an adult, and a pro-hero on top of that), and you said, “that’s such a nice color on you. is it new?”

there was that breeze inside his chest, strong, pulling at his bones. “yeah,” he grunted. then slowly, as if remembering how: “thanks.”

it was the attention, he thought at first, that piqued his interest. he wasn't used to it. people always watched him from afar, and he had fans online that were borderline obsessive, but people didn’t approach him. they didn’t say that’s such a nice color on you. they didn’t smile the way you smile.

he’s always had a shallow streak. it’s not like he doesn’t know this. it’s become a little muted over time, a little discouraged by the visible scarring on his face and body from his time in the field, but it’s never fully been eradicated. so it was simple, he thought. you paid him attention and stroked his ego, and he preened like a self-obsessed bird of paradise.

and then you started making these little origami whale sharks.

fucking stupid. it bothered him an annoying amount. you had a bunch at your desk, all different colors and sizes, some taped to your desktop monitor, some hung up with little pieces of string under the desk's storage overhang. you drew dots on the back of each one, a distinct spotted pattern that was unique for each shark. and you made them for everyone but him. eijirou bought you a pack of high quality origami paper and you made him his own fucking school, all with little faces, winking or surprised or angry, their wide paper mouths gaping and empty, the lines of their bodies pressed careful and sure.

he hated it. it was annoying and a waste of company time and he usually didn’t ever use dumb corporate slogans like “a waste of company time” but you were really pushing his fucking limits.

it was definitely just the attention he liked, he told himself, because surely someone doing something as dumb as this would annoy him to no fucking end if he spoke to them.

and then he spoke to you and he was wrong.

he asked why you made the damn things in the first place and you told him, “i like whale sharks. but to be totally honest, i just run out of things to do."

and he saw that as a challenge. you were running out of things to do? rest assured he could find more shit for you to take care of. so he did. tasks that he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy, they were so dull and time-consuming. and you were so achingly competent that it drove him up a fucking wall. you completed everything he asked of you in half the time it would take someone else, and you always reported back with a smile, and you always did good work, and he could see himself having a conversation with you about something other than work but he didn't want to try because he was worried he'd begin to like you as a person.

you're pretty. really fucking pretty. he can see that now, and he sure as fuck saw it then. you're hardworking. you're just likeable, and that's something katsuki had never been. it (reluctantly) impressed him. worse than that, it turned his feelings for you into a sort of interest.

but he knows he's not normal when it comes to things like this.

he tried to distance himself from you because of it, but it turns out that asking someone to do work for you means you do have to speak to them sometimes. and sometimes turned into a lot of times.

sometimes turned into bringing him coffee in the morning, not because he asked you to, but because you're sweet like that. sometimes turned into being the person he bounced ideas off of when he had a board meeting coming up or something otherwise boring and meticulous. sometimes turned into you laughing at his prickly comments rather than going quiet because of them. turned into you saying suck it up, dynamight, this is what it means to be the boss when he complained about doing paperwork.

sometimes turned into staying late with him at the office, getting take out for the two of you to share while you finished filing claims and damage reports and other stuff he hated taking care of by himself. sometimes turned into him asking you to stay late just because he wanted you there. because even when he was quiet, you'd tell him about your day, about things that happened in the office, about how much you like the book you'd both been reading. he loved listening to you talk. felt comfortable enough to tell you things about himself when he'd never felt comfortable doing that before.

sometimes turned into you holding out a piece of fried tofu from your take-out container for him to eat while he was approving time-off forms that he should have looked at much earlier that week, and you being so close that he could notice how good you smelled, and the warmth of your body basically radiated towards him, like all your energy was focused on him, and your smile was small but somehow even more lovely than usual, a secret for him to tuck away and keep, and when you finished feeding him and he had a little sauce on the corner of his mouth and you reached forward to wipe it off for him and your hand lingered there for a moment and your eyes fell to his lips and what if you try to kiss me and i'm wrong and you hate me for it and what if i can't give you what you want and what if i'm not actually what you want what if i've disappointed you already what if—

it was too much.

so he fucked it up. your thumb was so soft against his skin. he reeled backwards in his chair, rolling it whole feet clear of you, and he felt the tearing again, the bad kind, like paper unevenly shredded by clumsy hands, and he had to leave. he had to leave. he needed to leave so badly that it felt like pulling his skin off would be preferable to being in that office with you.

hiding in the bathroom was fucking pitiful. he remembered his breathing exercises. he remembered to ground himself. and when he came back to his office, you were gone.

if he was normal—and he wants to be normal, god fucking damn—he could have stomached your proximity. he could have eaten out of your fucking hand. he could have touched you back like a normal person probably would have and he wouldn't be here, alone, looking at a little purple sticky note you left him that says i finished organizing the pto forms. i hope you feel better!

he doesn't know whose pride you're trying to save with that. as if you didn't leave because he made things so fucking awkward by running away from you when you touched him. when you—maybe, if he was reading the room correctly—were about to kiss him.

and you don't speak to him for days. he doesn't want to push so he doesn't—just watches you out of the corner of his eye whenever you're both in the same room, which is arguably worse. he's not sure. he's just itching to fucking talk to you because he misses it.

he misses you. in a more-than-friends way.

it takes a while for him to realize this. when he does, it hits him like a metal rod up the side of the head. it's fucked up of him to miss you the way he does when he doesn't feel like he can provide you with the things a normal person could. and though he's worked on his patience over the years—worked on understanding that he can't have everything he wants—it doesn't stop him from being selfish and finally pulling you aside to talk.

and baffling as fucking ever, the first thing you say is sorry. "i know i should've talked to you about it earlier. i just—i shouldn't have done that. and i know it. i shouldn't have assumed that—i don't know. that you..."

you look helpless. it's one of the very few times that katsuki has ever felt the compulsion to touch someone. not because he wants the touch, per se, but because he wants to be able to provide comfort. he never figured out how to do that with words. he's so focused on his inability to comfort you that he barely has any idea of what you're actually talking about. instead of doing anything at all, he just stands there like a fuckwad.

"i just want you to know that i would never—like never—have touched you, or tried to... if i didn't think there was like, a vibe?" you shake your head, exasperated with yourself. "god, even that sounds so bad. i'm sorry, i just—"

"wait, what are—?" and then it clicks, because he's been slow on the uptake figuring out his shit when he should have been focusing way more on yours. "there was..." katsuki says, and he fucking hates that he can't find better words for what you were both feeling in his office, "a vibe."

the way your face changes when you're flustered is one of katsuki's favorite things, but it's not as enjoyable when he feels just as flustered as you look. "i—oh? so... so you—?"

his ears feel like they're being attacked by two heated straightening irons and he knows they're red as hell right now. he's gonna have to say this plainly even though he'd rather get his teeth pulled out one by one with a pair of pliers. "it's not you."

your expression loses any sort of hope it once held. you press your lips together and sigh, maybe a little exasperated. he's doing his best here but he knows his best is shit. "i can handle a non-cliché rejection," you tell him. "honestly, i'd prefer a non-cliché rejection—"

"i'm not trying to reject you," he says, and it's selfish of him. because he's really not. he isn't comfortable with the things you'd want from him, but he still wants you in some capacity. "i just don't—do shit like that."

"kissing?"

somehow knowing for sure that you did want to kiss him in his office makes him want you more. he likes that you're bold. he likes that you're not ashamed of that. he wants to be different than he is. "any... of it," he struggles to admit.

"at all?"

he nods.

"just—like touching, and stuff?"

it sounds so juvenile that he can't help but laugh through his nose, roll his eyes. "yeah. touching and stuff."

"oh."

you're disappointed. of course you are. it's not like he expected anything different, but—sometimes he fucking hates his life. hates that he can't be the thing people need him to be. hates that trying is so difficult, that it flings his stomach into space, like a throwing stone skipping across a still lake.

"so you don't go on dates, or anything."

"haven't tried."

"do you not want to?" you ask, and he can tell it's more of a genuine question than anything. you're curious about him, like you always are. it's more than he deserves, for all he can offer.

"doesn't make sense to."

"that's not what i asked."

it's not. and so katsuki listens as you ask your question again, and he really takes a moment to think.

considering the answer to your question leads him to his first date with you. and his second, and his third—his fourth, and he's keenly aware that his last fourth date ended with what he expects all dates are supposed to end with.

he takes you to the aquarium. because of all the fucking origami whale sharks. you still haven't given him one and it sticks in his craw like a bone. in front of the backlit tank that holds sharks of all types, shapes and sizes and teeth he's never pictured possible of a living creature before, he asks, "why sharks?"

you look at him, brow raised. "i don't know. they probably needed the biggest tank in the aquarium. and this looks like the biggest tank."

"no, dumbass—your sharks. the ones all over the fuckin' office."

"what, you don't like them?" you ask, but you're smiling, sly.

he shrugs. he thinks they're dumb as hell. he wants one to hang up at work, like the ones you've got hung up at your desk. "they're whatever. they clutter the fuck out of ei's office. and he's already got issues organizing." you've just made eijirou so many at his point, and it's getting ridiculous. "but what—are they easy to make, or something?"

you laugh a little. "no. not at all, actually." a whale shark swims by, its spotted hide shimmering in the tank's eerie blue lighting, and you watch it intently. "but it'd be boring if it was too easy."

this date ends with him walking you home from the aquarium a few blocks from your apartment and you smiling at him and telling him that you had a really great time, and he feels like a fucking freak because you don't even expect more. you don't wait for a kiss. don't look disappointed that he doesn't try to give you one. the way you look at him holds so much affection that he doesn't deserve and he has no idea how to reciprocate it to you, and somehow he lands on, "make me one."

"one what?" you ask, but he thinks you already know what he's asking. you like to play coy. he likes it when you play coy. when you're enjoying yourself.

"one of your little fuckin' paper things," he mutters, because admitting that he wants one of those dumbass sharks feels somehow demeaning. he doesn't want you to know how much he's wanted one. "ei's got a million of 'em."

your hand was on your door handle, but it falls to your side. he's keenly aware of its proximity to him. he doesn't feel that terrible ripping in his gut and its absence is almost frightening to him. your fingers tighten into a fist. it's cold out. "ah, and you're jealous?"

"no," he says, knee-jerk. "i just don't get why everyone gets one but me."

you smile when he says this and he could live in this image of you, delicate and small and made for him. he goes home and thinks about it until he falls asleep. thinks about it even beyond then, feels that strong breeze inside him tearing every leaf from its grounded perch.

here's the thing—nothing against jirou, but unlike his other fourth date, this one was enjoyable. more than. he loved watching you be amazed by the size of the whale sharks, and he loved watching you put a bunch of coins into the penny press and cranking the machine until one was squeezed out into the pattern you wanted, and he loved watching you lay your hand against the glass where the rubbery wings of a flood of stingrays battled for your attention, and—

he loved watching you. that's weird, right? he sounds like a fucking lunatic thinking that.

but he does. he hadn't realized until now how difficult it had been not only to touch people, but to look at them. maintaining eye contact, watching someone do a simple task out of interest instead of staring them down in an attempt to intimidate them. he's so much more fucked up than he thought but what makes it bearable is that he can do it with you. he can watch the way you enjoy things and feel like he's not intruding on something he shouldn't. without even trying, you make him feel welcome—wanted.

that's it. you make him feel wanted.

the realization affects him in a way he doesn't understand. at work the next day, when you smile at him over the top of the front desk, he feels something incredibly strong—something like instinct—that tells him to touch you. small. a thumb brushed across your cheek. his fingers grazing yours. he wants it in a way that can't be right because he's never wanted to touch someone like this.

he doesn't do it, but he thinks about it all day. your little smiles when you notice him watching you on your dates, the way your fingers graze your lips when you cover your laugh, the softness in the way you regard him. you're quiet, reserved, but when you laugh you laugh hard. he wants your soft, your quiet and your loud, he wants the feeling of your fingers on his lips, he wants your smallest smiles, all things he wishes he could fold up and keep and later display somewhere he can always see them. a school of paper fish, gaping mouths and drawn-on spots and such carefully pressed lines.

so on the eleventh date—(he knows it's ridiculous to count, but he's never spent this much time with one person before, not like this)—he reaches for your hand when you're walking alongside the bay, the air turning cold in the wake of the sunset that the two of you had just witnessed. that's romantic, you'd teased when he asked you to watch it with him. he'd rolled his eyes, shrugged you off.

but maybe he wanted it to be romantic. maybe he wanted to make this as normal as possible for you because nothing has been normal between the two of you so far.

you pull back when he reaches for you, as if on instinct. look up at him, confused, when he reaches out again. "katsuki..." you say, and it sounds as if he's done something wrong.

he tries not to let his brain spiral but thoughts drip inwards. water meeting a dented hull. what has he done this time? what else has he fucked up by being fundamentally wrong?

"you know..." you start, and you lose your words.

he thinks of kyoka, years ago. it's okay, you know. to not like it. he wonders if you'll still text him like she does.

your lips pull into a frown before you speak and katsuki can't breathe. "i was never gonna ask on my own because i know you don't like talking about things like this if you don't bring it up. but—um. katsuki—do you think i expect something from you?"

"huh?" he asks, dumb. breathing is still something he fails to do.

"i know that this is—different. i know you have some things going on that make the physical part hard for you." you look up at him so earnestly, and he loves looking at you. he loves looking at you and doesn't want to have to stop and he's worried that this is it. the moment he'll have to stop. you try to smile and it's small and he wants it all for himself. careful. delicate. secret, for him. "i'm not gonna lie to you. i don't know what a relationship without that kind of stuff looks like. but that doesn't mean i'm not willing to find out. it's—i don't need you to try to do something you think i want you to do."

"i'm not."

"it makes me feel a little sick, kat. honestly. it makes me feel like, i don't know—like i'm taking advantage of you, or something—"

"you're not."

"you don't have to do things like that to keep me around." you look flustered, eyes darting from his face to the skyline. "if you want me, i'm—you know."

it's okay, you know. "i don't know."

"i'm yours," you say, and cringe immediately at your words. "or like—i could be, you know, kind of whatever you wanted, if you—if that's what you want. would want."

katsuki can only remember a few times when his head was this quiet in the presence of someone else. when he trusted someone enough to let his mind go blank, to let himself act on instinct. "can i kiss you?"

you sigh. "this is what i was saying. i don't want you to—"

"no," he says, quiet, and he's closer to you than he's ever been. he likes the way you smell. he's not gonna apologize if that's weird. "i just want—god, i feel pathetic asking again. can i just—?"

just, just, just. just a touch, just a kiss, just a moment of your fucking time—it's all he wants. and he's never wanted like this. he's never trusted like this. his head has never quieted entirely because he's so sure that he's not going to disappoint you, or be something you don't actually want, or be wrong.

you've shown him that he can't be wrong with you, regardless of whether or not something within him is broken.

your lips are warm, a little chapped from the dry air, and he tries to remember what kissing chastely is but it's like something breaks in him further the second the two of you touch. his hands are cradling your face, his tongue is gliding against your tongue, his teeth are clacking against your teeth, and he knows the kiss is bad and wrong and messy but he suddenly needs it. he needs to feel you.

you make a noise against him and worry slices into his stomach before he realizes it's a quiet, breathy moan, and maybe you've been okay without the touch but that doesn't mean you don't enjoy it when you receive it. he can tell he hasn't made his boundaries clear enough—your hands circle his wrists, too cautious to go further, too hesitant to grip him like he thinks you want to. like he wants you to want to.

his teeth hit yours again and you laugh, and he pulls back, stomach tight. there's a hope in him that's ready to be torn.

you see it in his face—the fear. "i love kissing you," you blurt out, as if it's the only reassurance you can think of in the moment. "i mean—you're just." you laugh again, and he realizes it's nerves. you're just as nervous as he is. "can i—can we go somewhere warm? and maybe do this more? or—if this was enough—"

he's pulling you towards his apartment before you can get another word out.

kissing you is easy because you make him feel like it's relatively new for you as well. maybe that's how it feels for everyone every time, but he wouldn't know. he just feels comfortable with you. like you're not so much better than him, like you're not waiting to laugh at him when he fucks up, like you're touching him because you really want to.

so he takes you to his apartment and puts you on his couch and kisses you until your back is against the armrest and he's looming over you and you feel comfortable enough that your hands stray from his wrists to his shoulders to his hair and he didn't even know touching someone could feel like this.

put aside the fact that he's nearly finished in his fucking jeans three times just from your fingers running across his back, from the way you cup his cheek when he pulls back for air because he keeps forgetting to breathe—just having you close is intoxicating. he wants to bury his face in the curve of your shoulder, he wants to bite marks into your skin that'll stay vibrant for weeks, he wants to etch himself into you so deeply that he doesn't have to leave. these wants aren't even sexual—it's something about having you be his. i'm yours, you'd told him, and he hadn't even known that it would be exactly what he needed to hear.

he's in love with you, which isn't shocking to him, but he knows he shouldn't be in love with you yet because people that aren't fucked up in the head don't feel shit like this so quickly. he's not gonna tell you this for a very long time, but he knows—so completely and confidently—that he will reach a point when he can tell you.

"you sure you want this?" he asks, breathy, between kisses.

you stop kissing him, brows raised in surprise. "katsuki, we don't... this is a lot for one night. we can take it slow, still."

"that's—i'm not talking about that." he gives in, then—lets himself bury his face in the crook of your neck, lets himself breathe in deep, lets himself find your hands and intertwine your fingers, and you can probably feel that he's hard as fucking metal for you but that's not what's important right now. it sure as hell makes it awkward to try to have a serious conversation, though. "you sure you wanna deal with all... you know. my stuff."

"are you sure you wanna deal with all of my stuff?" you counter, and he pulls back to look at you. kissed rotten and smiling. "of course i want to deal with it. i like you."

and he likes you too. god, he likes you so fucking much.

the next morning, long after you've left for home, he finds a little orange whale shark hidden behind the alarm clock on his bedside table, stars in the place of eyes, and the trace of you is enough to make him feel warm. to hope that over time his apartment becomes full of the little paper creatures until his home is its own aquarium, until everywhere he looks is a memory of all you've brought him—pieces of you, perfectly arranged and delicately folded by your careful hands, much too gentle to tear.

[devil-in-hiding]

Bully!141 gang banging crybaby!reader and at first everything is going great but then it starts feeling a little too real for her. The mean looks, the slaps, the degradation, it all feels real and malicious too her :(

so she uses the safeword and they all immediately stop, checking in with her to see if it’s okay to pull out, before picking her up and cuddling her to their chests.

“oh pretty, m’ so sorry luv.”

“shhh, s’ okay, don’ cry Bonnie.”

“are you okay? Can I get you anything?”

“bugger off! Give ‘er some space. We’re here for you luvie.”

I’m in an angsty and fluff mood today if you couldn’t tell

-🫧

this just makes me think that Simon would be the best weighted blanket oh my god-

but yes ): you’re sat between the four of them, and they’re showering you in sweet words, and their hearts just about break when you peek at them, eyes sad and voice oh so quiet when you ask

“i-im still a good pet?”

and then they’re all over you, whispering how much you mean to them, that you are the best thing to ever wander into their lives

“We’re sorry we’re so rough with ya pretty.”

“We’ll be better. Don’t ever wanna lose ya.”

[bunabi]

I finished Veilguard btw so here's my long thoughts (be warned I've been writing notes during my entire playthrough so this is very long) for folks who want it:

My favorite parts of DAV:

Best level design in any DA so far. The platforming grew on me, and I think the levels were well-thought out and mostly fun to navigate. Arlathan Forest was exhausting but other areas felt nicely balanced with branching paths, hidden rooms, etc. Exploration in smaller contained maps done right imo.

Mage combat is really satisfying at higher levels. Pure ranged combat is totally impossible unless you have Davrin and Taash popping taunts back to back, but dropping a massive AOE while fighting close-range feels good too.

Being able to auto-equip and compare new gear is great.

Same with the codex entries. Not having to hunt down whatever note I just picked up is a huge improvement.

Upgrading equipment via duplicates incentivized treasure chest hunting, which I would have otherwise skipped lol. It really helped me slow down and take time exploring areas, and I appreciated that.

The final act didn't make the previous 70+ hours feel better, my fault for spoiling most of it for myself, but it was neat. Cool set pieces, cool fights. I was worried Elgar'nan was gonna have the same moveset as the Regrets, but his final battle was great.

Oh, I forgot Felassan! His notes were a tragic delight. Such a good man. Funny too. They didn't need to kill Varric to make Solas less sympathetic...I think Felassan's betrayal(s) serve that purpose well already.

Rook & Their Faction:

Without rehashing what I've said over the past few weeks: this is my least favorite protagonist.

Being a funny and sarcastic and irreverent hero in a DA game is not new. Not having a choice in the matter is. The Inquisitor was pretty fixed in their tone too (cant even choose a personality for them in CC) but even they had better aggressive options available.

Folks say not to judge Rook's depth by a Lord of Fortune playthrough but since factions are asymmetrical on purpose here are my impressions:

The Lords of Fortune didn't contribute to my run in any meaningful way other than getting Emmrich hot which is not unique, as it turns out, to any particular background. In fact, learning Natalene was a galley slave as an aside detracted from my experience. Being a former galley slave, former Circle mage (again: Rivain doesn't have Circles), semi-Dalish city elf with DIY vallaslin is unreal. Especially as characters continuously imply Rook is a young 20-something. The fact this wasn't immediately caught and course-corrected shows -- to me -- how hectic and spread-thin DAV's development really was. :(

Story & Antagonists:

Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain have cackling witch disease. No motivations outside of power. That was a little disappointing. Was also hoping they'd at least comment on Rook/Davrin/Bellara's vallaslin but they're too busy plotting world domination to really notice. Love their designs though. I'd love to hear a deep dive on how they animated Ghil's tentacles.

Veilguard feels like an immediate follow-up to Trespasser, not the ten year timeskip it says it is. I wonder if that's a symptom of adapting the live service story (content that was likely meant to stretch, similar to Anthem and Destiny, over a decade) for single-player.

I miss the politically-motivated meddling. Every villain is allied with the Evanuris. We needed some that aren't. The Right and Left Hand of the Black Divine, corrupt brothers of the Imperial Chantry, the agents of the Archon, a Minrathous street gang, some Rivaini pirates, anything, anyone.

It's crazy how all elven resistance seemed to evaporate with the dissolution of the Dread Wolf Army. As much as I'd hate seeing them duped and betrayed by Solas…I prefer that to just pretending everything's fine now. I could easily see alienage elves and slaves take Cyrian's path, desperate for change no matter the source, especially since oppression is all they've known and there's no end to it in sight. Especially with their gods confirmed as the source of the blight. All downhill from here I fear.

The Butcher. Would. That voice and that frame....it purred I fear. But even he was not immune to cackling witch disease. Wish he stuck around longer for personal reasons. My South is under siege and I aint talking about Ferelden.

Combat:

I found myself switching builds a lot, which was nice and kept things fresh. That being said: DAV needed loadouts for skills and equipment and a menu showing active passive skills + enchantments. A QOL update for this stuff would have been amazing. I want to try an archer run, but I dread (🐺) fussing with skill tree nodes again.

After fighting Mythal (my first full dragon fight) I was disappointed how all dragons share her same attack patterns. They didn't have to reinvent the wheel or anything -- this was the case with dragon battles in DAI and I thought it was fine -- but Mythal of all enemies should have been unique.

High-level demons are limited to Rage and Pride. High-level darkspawn are limited to Ogres. I miss those little scrungly lookin' despair demons and nasty ass hurlock emissaries. After 60 hours I did get a little tired of the same handful of mobs over and over.

Companions & NPCs:

The Veilguardians feel like my kids. Except Emmrich who's absolutely convinced he's in an age-gap relationship with my older lady Rook. It's not that they're uniquely dependent or rudderless, it's that their struggles are solved with nurturing pep talks. Reaffirm their worth, give them a hug, and all that inner turmoil is cancelled. Rich coming from the 'I should have been able to influence my companions more in DAI' girl, but Rook's impact on the Veilguard, the way their doubts vanish completely via some life coaching, feels off.

Speculation: I think the companions were originally planned to be NPCs. Their written banter in some of the notes, their verbal banter throughout the Lighthouse, they feel like they're meant to stay in the hub and act as quest-givers in the live service game. Especially with how Rook is excluded. That's fine btw it just helps explains some things. (Just remembered something else: when you talk to quest NPCs out in the world and the camera focuses in on the conversation, you can't see your companions. They chime in with disembodied voices, always hidden out of frame. That also gives me the feeling they were added later. Not confirmed btw just my hunch!)

Torn about Taash. I love them for breaking the 'agreeable companion' monotony but hate the ~animalistic race~ tropes they were saddled with. I've had issues with Weekes' handling of race and culture in the past. I'm disappointed to see it continue a decade later. I'll leave it there. Sten cannot smell ovulating coochie!

I tried to kill Lucanis during the final assault. Had full faction strength but I didn't complete his personal quest. It didn't work. Sorry Zevran!

Shathann's VA was acting her ass off. Great performance. Absolute bars from Taash's VA during their scenes too.

I dreaded (🐺) opening the Lighthouse map to see who wanted to talk. I usually love chopping it up and getting to know my party; that's my favorite part of any DA game. But so many conversations were just spent restating the obvious (Bellara is worried about The Gods and her brother, Harding is worried about her powers and Solas, Davrin is worried about the griffons and Gloom Howler, you know like in case you forgot). Running person-to-person-to-person and feeling no sense of accomplishment or progress for it seriously drained me.

The Inquisitor… I assumed vowing to stop Solas would block my Lavellan from pining and questioning herself after a decade apart and two very clear rejections. She kept asking whether he could still be reasoned with even in the midst of the final operation. I'm disappointed how little that choice mattered in the end. The second-hand embarrassment was crazyyy.

Romance:

Now this part is a little unique. Sorry for what I'm about to say about Emmrich. If it helps: I found him the most fun of all the companions. He's handsome, thoughtful, and has a fascinating past. But I ended up being dissatisfied by the end, and not just because of being soft-locked into a May-December fling, cringe commentary from Rook, and feeling like I was straight-up harassing Emmrich in early flirting dialogue.

The main issue: I don't care for the Mourn Watch. I like the Mourn Watch characters, but the organization makes me crazy. We hear so little about how they function in the context of an Andrastian nation like Nevarra. Summoning the dead in a world that still believes souls join the Maker's side in the Fade is huge. I wanted to really dig into discussions on the afterlife but in the end I'm supposed to go 'waow cool skeletons' and forget that religion is such an important facet of Thedas. I was so bummed!

I made him a Lich because he didn't seem to care either way. Reuniting him with Manfred is morally good, turning him into an eternal protector of the Necropolis is morally good. Emmrich is happy with whatever, so I gave him whatever, and I said 'whatever' when it was all over. My god is that man cute, but the romance overall just didn't do it for me.

Should've known when I saw his rotunda lol Bioware you sly dogs you got me again!

Personal final thoughts:

Well? I don't think I'm sad anymore, but I am left with complicated feelings. Obviously things are a little different for me being an EA Partner and getting an idea of just how much work has gone into making the game exist period. And I think because I can't blame it all on one person, shit all over it, and move on that these feelings are just kinda churning with nowhere to go.

Things could have been handled better. Didn't like the attempt to hide the world states until launch, or the dismissive comments from writers about it. Didn't like the AMA answers. And this isn't really my business but I'll say it anyway: I feel like the community council was thrown to the wolves, having to base their DA4 impressions around the sliver of content they were allowed to see, and having a much more hands-off role than implied.

I hope DAV is taken as an opportunity to refocus, double-down on what makes Dragon Age so beloved, and lean into those strengths unapologetically. Easier said than done -- as much as I loved Swen's speech about creating games free of marketing expectations and mimicking the latest trends that's often times impossible -- but I want to believe it can be done in this case.

Anyway both Sabine & my antibiotics are complete and I'm overcoming my moodiness and getting back to work on commissions! I've cured the Blight in more ways than one! 😄

[batboyblog]

I wish I could say it was worse than I thought, but you know it was everything I thought it'd be

withdrawing from the Paris Climate agreement and the World Health Organization, orders attacking birth right citizenship and making transphobia the policy of the whole federal government, and pardoning all of, ALL of the January 6th rioters

yes we're off to a great start here in Trump's America folks....

any ways stay focused gang, don't waste your effort, your energy or your time. If you're at a protest and no one is registering people to vote or signing them up to volunteer working in elections, it's waste. If you have money to give, please give wisely to organizations with track records of doing work, not just random insta accounts that look cool? 2017-2021 was over run by left-ish grifters who stole people's money and spent in on themselves, Shaun King, don't let 2025-2029 be the same thing all over where we waste millions of dollars we need spent helping support the MANY court cases against Trump and is train wreck of fascist fuckers.

I'm not a Christian but the Bible has a line which is REALLY popular with black church goers and I'll quote it

"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." Galatians 6:9

don't get weary now, don't let them wear you out, wear you down, get you to be apathetic, tired. Every day you get up and you say "I'm better than them" because you are, and set about the work, every week do something, and make sure all your somethings are worth something.

[yourfavblondy]

How they would react if they saw you wearing their jacket

the tittle is pretty much self explanatory

characters: rindou haitani, mitsuya takashi, draken, mikey

RINDOU

It was cold outside and you like usual forgot your jacket at home. And oh how convenient it was when you saw Rindous jacket just laying around. While your boyfriend was talking to some people you swiftly grabbed his jacket and put it on. The jacket provided you with warmth and comfort, it smelled like Rin, intoxicatingly sweet. "Hey babe have you seen my-" Rindou asked turning around but stopping mid sentence when he saw you. He wanted to put on his jacket but how could he take it from you when you looked so damn cute. A light blush crept onto his face and the tips of his ears. One of the most scary people almost everyone feared was fumbling with his words and blushing profusely just because you wore his jacket. "Rin are you alright you kind of froze." you asked waving a hand infront of the blondes face. "Yeah, I'm fine you just look so damn cute." he chuckled wrapping his arms around you lovingly.

MIKEY

You constantly stole your boyfriends hoodies, I mean it was his fault really why did he have to have such comfortable and pretty hoodies. But despite always wearing his clothes you never wore his Toman jacket. At this point Mikey had gotten used to seeing you in his hoodies, I mean yeah sure butterflies always pooled in his stomach and yeah his heart skipped a beat now and again but he was used to it. What he wasn't used to however was seeing you in his Toman jacket, so you can imagine his shock when you showed up to a Toman meeting wearing his jacket. The words leader Mitsuya embroidered on the sleeve were on full display for everyone to see. Everyone knew you were his and if they didn't already now they knew for sure. Mikey shuffled closer towards you wrapping the jacket more around you. His face was dusted with a light pink blush but they didn't need to see that so he choose to bury his head in the crook of your neck wrapping his arms around you waist.

DRAKEN

You were with the gang at some random party Izana decided to host. Everyone was having a great time dancing and laughing, making out and drinking. You were also having a wonderful time singing at the top of your lungs. The alcohol you had drank earlier provided a nice kind of buzz to the already exiting atmosphere. For the party you decided on wearing a short black mini skirt a sparkly silver top and black heels. To Draken you looked out of this world. Everything matched up perfectly, the skirt showed of your ass which was probably Drakens favourite part of your body, he could just stare at you for eternity and never get tired. And thats exactly what he did he kept a watchfull eye on you the whole night just to make sure some creep woudldn't try anything. Once some creep did try to hit on you thinking you didn't have a boyfriend Draken came and politely led you out of the house. "Thanks babe." you said getting up on your tip toes to kiss you taller boyfriend. "I think this is like the fifth guy that hit one tonight." you said chuckling. "Well I can't blame them, you look stunning." Draken complimented nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck. He left feather light kisses while wrapping his arms around your waist. "I know how we'll solve this." he let go off you and took off his jacket. "Here." he draped the jacket gently over your shoulders. He let go off you and took a step back. Immediately when he saw you wearing his jacket Draken melted. Such a strong and large man was like putty when it came to you. He was obviously much taller and bigger than you and the jacket which fit him perfectly was oversized on you. Rosy blush crept up on his face. "How do I look?" you asked twirling around nuzzling into the fabric. Draken felt his heart swell at the sight of you. "Better than ever." he stepped close and held your waist before placing sweet kiss to your lips. "Come on let's go inside." you grabbed his hand and led him back inside. Now everyone would know you're his, especially with the words VICE PRESIDENT embroidered on the sleeve.

MITSUYA TAKASHI

Mitsuya had sown a lot of pieces of clothing tailored just for you. He loved seeing you happy while wearing clothing he put so much work and effort into making just right, for you. Currently you were in a train with your boyfriend going on a date. You wore a beautiful jacket that he tailored, but it was a little too hot since the train was crowded. So not wanting to boil alive you opted to take your jacket off. As you were sitting down you layed it gently across your lap. You'll be getting off in two stops anyway so what could happen especially with Mitsuya sitting next to you. A lot apparently because one stop before you were supposed to get off someone ran by you and snatched your jacket. You quickly realised what had happened and tried running after him but it was too late. You looked sadly back at your boyfriend. "Hey, it's no big deal. I'll make you another one." he comforted you. "Yeah, thanks Mitsuya." you said leading him off of the train. As you made your way up the stairs and into the open street you suddenly realised how bloody cold you were. The cold air sent shivers down your spine, it chilled you to the bone. Mistuya noticed you lightly shaking before he, like a true gentleman that he is, took off his jacket and wrapped it snug around you. You glanced up at your boyfriend nuzzling further into the soft fabric. Mitsuya felt like he could explore with adoration. You looked so pretty, he truly didn't deserve you. Mitsuya wrapped his amrs around you holding you close. His cheeks were red but his heart was full of love.

[fairlyang]

Amor Prohibido 🕷️

a west side story au

w/c: 2.9K

pairing: miguel o’hara x latina!reader

tags: 18+ smut. opposite gangs, forbidden love, not caring x2, cunnilingus, dirty talk, fingering, español (era necesario), he’s a sweetie, masquerade dance, chino is a opp, double reveal but they’re all pissed, you don’t care and leave, car sex, voyuerism, unprotected sex, riding, sweet ending

taglist: @reader-1290

smutmas masterlist | main masterlist

you were supposed to stay away from him. your older brother had always scolded you about only going out with one of your own. didn't have to be your exact ethnicity but they had to be latino, not any of the white guys.

you found that to be harder than expected. mainly because you didn't really care for his rules. you were always a rebellious kid and sister so now being in your early twenties that didn't exactly change.

so he continued to repeat that after you've only been in the states for less than two years, you knew you'd be in trouble.

at least that’s what you thought until you found someone that maybe you could cheat this system with. Miguel O’Hara was half irish and half mexican, with tanned skin, dark slicked back hair, and a thick accent to match.

his dad was a rich man, married a mexican woman so that’s why he was able to be in the jett’s, because they ignored the mexican half. he wasn’t exactly like the rest of them, openly hating on any and all latinos who come into the city because he’s seen firsthand how his mom was treated.

he was kind, thoughtful, and sweet. everything you’ve ever wanted in a man so your brother would just have to deal with it.

he was the man of your dreams, but of course there was a downside, probably the worst one, yet that wasn’t enough to put him off you or vice versa.

being the all too rebellious girl you were, you freely were sneaking back and forth with the second in command of the rival gang opposite your brother's and you didn't care too much about it. especially not when he was between your thighs, eating you out like he hasn't had a proper meal in years which was ironic because he never misses a meal, let alone his dessert.

his mouth was sucking and flicking your clit while he pumped two fingers inside you. he always took great care of you, making sure you don't go a day without a proper orgasm.

the worst part was that you let him.

you really couldn't help it, not when he was making you moan so loud and feel so good that you could practically see stars. it was to no surprise that you couldn't push his advances away, even if you tried he’d just convince you anyway.

he pulled away for a few seconds just to tease you because it always had you squirming, clenching tightly against his fingers, "like that baby?"

you could only nod your head, feeling too good to give him a proper answer. he didn't accept that though. he needed to hear you, especially if it was in your native tongue.

"tell me how much you like it, pretty girl.." he murmured, looking up at you with those pretty brown eyes while you just pouted.

"mucho- p-please dont stop." you whined, reaching down for his head so he can keep working his magic. (so much-)

"eager girl... you know you shouldn't even be with me but here you are, desperate and aching for me.. so fucking dirty, mi amor." he teased only making you whimper, especially at his usage of such an endearing word. (my love)

given every pet name that slipped past his lips had you like a lovesick fool but still, you were losing it even more, "fuck miguel- por favor- i n-need more!" you whined once more, bringing a grin to his face. (please-)

“pues porque me lo pediste así…. como no, hermosa?” he says under his breath before going straight back in to suck on your clit. (well since you asked like that… how could i not, beautiful)

you gasped and brought a hand down to his hair, tugging on it making him groan against you. it sent shivers all over your body and made his pants feel even tighter.

he loved the forbiddenness of your situation. knowing you shouldn't be doing this, from either side but not being able to help yourselves. he was just, if not more obsessed with you which said a lot.

he closed his eyes and focused on the sweet taste of your arousal, always so fucking good like an ice cream sundae down at the diner. sadly he couldn't take you on any proper dates because it would be odd to others and you didn't want miguel to get into any trouble. have it be by riff, bernardo, or his parole officer.

so he would close up shop early for his boss, who was an elderly puerto rican lady named valentina. definitely accepting of your relationship and having grown very fond of miguel, like a son, of course she was going to help him sneak you in. also given the fact he was on parole and this was now his home, he didn't have much of a choice anyway.

he brought his left hand up to your body, first to squeeze your left breast just earning himself the sweetest gasp from you, then you decided to grab his hand and intertwine your fingers together. his face flushed and he felt his heart beat faster, your eyes were on his and he was determined to make you come in his mouth.

he stopped for a split second just to add a third finger then he pumped her fingers faster and harder than before. you squeezed his hand tightly prompting him to do it right back while you quickly felt yourself getting closer to the edge.

“miguel! fuck- por favor- no pares-“ you moaned and grind your hips up desperately. (please- don’t stop-)

he moaned against you, practically grinding against the mattress while pumping his fingers as fast as he could. your walls entrapped them and he started curling them up to hit your sweet spot, purposely knowing you’ll come faster.

he pulled away for a few seconds just to egg you on, “gonna come for me baby? sabiendo que ni debes hablar conmigo?” (knowing you aren’t even be talking to me?)

“fuck miguel! si, claro que si-“ you cried and felt your legs start to shake.. (yes, of course yes-)

“así, mi amor, así.” he cooed softly, eye back on yours, “come on baby.” (just like that)

his sweet tone was enough to send you over the edge, gripping his hand tightly while you cried out for him. he kissed your inner thigh, slowed down his fingers, and giving you more praise while you rode out your high.

you closed your eyes and clamped your legs shut, feeling so overstimulated. he slowly slipped his fingers out, a loud plop filling your ears as you covered your face with both hands. you could hear his chuckle and his shuffling as you calmed yourself down.

suddenly you feel his arms wrap around you, pulling you towards his chest and you weren’t going to deny a nice cuddle. you laid your head on his chest, swinging an arm over his body while you listened to his heart beat.

there was something about the aftermath that just made this more real and loving. you didn’t know how your future would look but there was no way in hell you’re letting something this good, go to waste or into hands that already had a turn.

the following weekend there was a masquerade dance being held at the gym in the rec center and miguel wanted to be introduced as your boyfriend knowing damn well that could be the cause of world war three. but he didn’t really give a fuck, willing to fight for your love and more importantly, end this dumb terf war between both the gangs.

the dress code was black and white, just so everyone would be somewhat the same. the lights were flashing so it was easy for you to sneak in with miguel.

you were both wearing black masks that had white designs on them. you in a black swing dress that anita made for you, off the shoulder with white pearls along the edges. perfect for the occasion.

miguel was in the nicest pair of pants, borrowed from his father as well as a black button up shirt.

he was looking around the dance floor, watching how each group was in their respective half and dancing their hearts out. neither of you have both seen and since the city decided to go all out for this dance to make everyone get alone, the lights were still going crazy.

he took his arm off your waist and held his hand out to you which you happily took. he led you to the middle of the floor and it was an upbeat song, so he grabbed your hands and you began dancing together.

you followed his lead and moved in sync with him and everyone else around you. your dress moved beautifully, miguel twirling you as much as possible to keep that smile on your face.

you moved back and forth between both sides of the dance floor, not wanting to stick to just one side in case you were to get caught that easily. it wasn’t so strange since most people by the middle were doing that anyway.

there were a couple people on the sidelines just watching, either because they can’t dance or they don’t have dates. singletons from both gangs but no shark was going to take a latina out to dance or vice versa, knowing they’d get a beating right then and there.

the song changed to a slower one so you adjusted accordingly with your arms around his neck while his were on your waist. you swayed back and forth slowly, staring into each other's eyes and ignoring everything else.

you felt happy being able to do this. and sure it was mainly due to the fact that everyone was wearing masks and you could barely even see the person next to you but still. you had the man you adored the most out in public like this and it was all you could’ve asked for.

you sighed and gave him a loving smile, taking a step closer to place your head against his chest. you danced slowly now taking one of his hands and sticking it outwards while he held your other hand by his chest.

it was a sweet and pure moment. what was once such a rarity in your life and now was slowly becoming something you needed to have every day. not at all afraid for the future, at least not now that his arms are around you. it was warm and protective, like nothing bad could happen when you were like this.

but unfortunately that wasn’t the reality you were living in.

anita was the first to notice you, not thinking anything of it until she realized the man you were dancing with wasn’t chino and she had to stop herself from gasping out loud. the second to notice was riff’s girlfriend, graziella, whose eyes went wide when she looked past riff’s shoulder to find miguel with bernardo’s sister of all the girls.

they both kept their mouths shut, hell even leading their men away from that part of the dance floor just to save all parties from a potential disaster. you didn’t even notice, not a single clue the jig was almost up but saved by the two girls.

that quickly changed when you decided to just take a look around the dance floor, moving your head up to take a better peak while miguel swayed you both. your eyes scanned all the couples in their fancy attire and dark masks but suddenly stopped at one guy standing still on the sidelines, eyes already on yours.

your eyes grew wide and your heart started racing, you shook your head against miguel, praying to god that chino won’t say a word.

you watched him carefully, almost unable to move because your nerves were getting the better of you. “por favor.” you mouthed to him and he just slowly shook his head. (please)

he started walking to the left side of the floor, you quickly looked over, trying to find your brother and anita. your eyes followed chino and you looked to where he was walking and you knew your fun was over.

you looked away, gaze back on miguel and leaned towards his ear, “we’ve gotta go.”

he looked down at you, noticing your nervous expression, and nodding. he let go of you, quickly grabbing your hand and leading you out. he pushed past bodies, not caring for the grunts and swears of his own friends.

they luckily didn’t even notice it was him, otherwise he’d have another problem on his hands. he led you out of the main exit, quickly walking to the parking lot to his car. the cold air hit you but before you could even react to it you heard someone yell your name behind you.

the all too familiar voice had you gulp and walk faster while miguel squeezed your hand, trying to make you feel better, “todo va estar bien, okay?” (everything’s gonna be fine)

you nodded and then heard yelling behind you, anita’s voice filling your ears as she begged bernardo to leave you alone. you could hear them argue like they usually did when you finally got to miguel’s car. he unlocked and opened your door when suddenly the side door bursts open and out comes riff with graziella laughing.

you had one foot about to go inside when riff just blinks at the sight in front of him. you stayed silent, not having anything to say while miguel urged you to get inside the car. “miguel please- let’s just go, anywhere but here.” you pleaded and he just nodded but his eyes were on his best friend’s.

riff was now scoffing, shaking his head in disbelief and disapproval while miguel helped you inside. he closed your door shut and walked behind the car to get to his seat just so he didn’t have to get even closer to riff. he stopped before getting inside, giving him the chance to say something to him.

riff was baffled, stun locked, and disappointed. this felt like a stab in the back to him, towards the sharks and everything they stood for.

but his definition was always different to miguel’s, he just never considered that fact.

finally he was able to speak up, “i can’t believe you.”

miguel sighed and stopped him from even starting a rant, “well believe it because i’m done pretending to be something i’m not. i can’t live like that anymore and you better fucking believe that i’m marrying this girl one day.”

your face grew warm and your heart started pounding, his honest words sounding like a declaration and in front of his best friend just made it all the more real and serious.

he gave him one final look before going inside and starting the engine. you took a deep breath and looked to the right to see bernardo and anita walking over. she gave you a sympathetic smile and your brother’s was better than before.

you gulped and rolled the window down, speechless at first before thinking of the right thing to say, “perdóname, hermano. es mejor pedir perdón que pedir permiso.. encontré un amor verdadero y bonito, espero que lo entiendas.” (forgive me, brother. it’s better to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission.. i found a love so real and so beautiful, i hope you’ll understand)

he sighed and nodded, unable to speak because it felt so surreal. instead anita spoke, “ felicidades, mi niña” (congratulations, my girl)

you smiled at her and miguel finally pulled out and slowly drove away leaving behind your loved ones conflicted and confused.

as soon as you were far and hidden enough you both jumped to the backseat. such strong comments towards your family’s brought an energy you never felt before. an even better and stronger pull towards miguel, one that had you feeling extra grateful from him and more affectionate.

it took little to no convincing for you to ride him. you had been riding him fast, eager and ready to please while making out. hands touching anything and groping, squeezing gently as you bounced your ass up and down like you have before.

only now was he started to thrust his hips upwards as you slammed down, making sure to hit your sweet spot every time. you tried your hardest to keep up with him but he never made it easy on you, even when you were trying to do something for him.

his hands were gripping your hips, squeezing your flesh while he helped you fuck yourself harder on his cock, desperately wanting to come already. neither of you were in any mood to take it slow, just wanting it to be as passionately fast as possible.

his praise against your lips filled your ears, making you moan against him while he just continued kissing you. he kept repeating his promising words of forever, making sure you wouldn’t forget them.

aunque todavía tuvieron un amor prohibido, se sentía como si ahora nada de todo mundo los puede detener. (although you still had a forbidden love, it felt like now, nothing in the world could stop you now)

como si todo este tiempo podían estar así sin importar lo que digan los demás. (as if all this time you could’ve been like this without caring what anyone else says)

but at last, you could do that now anyway and there was no one that could come between the sweetest of love you’ve ever felt with the absolute man of your dreams.

[ghostlyglimmer]

The Fun Zone Part 2

Find the other chapters here

Summary:

Danny Fenton’s part-time job at The Fun Zone—a chaotic arcade and entertainment center that’s secretly a gang front—was going great until a certain vigilante stormed in to shut the place down.

Danny adjusted his uniform—a slightly altered version of his old one, now featuring a sleek crimson “RH” embroidered on the chest where the mustard stain used to be. Red Hood’s idea of branding, apparently. Hood had taken to lurking in the old gang office-turned-“management headquarters,” leaving Danny to run the front while vigilantes and goons occasionally dropped by, turning his shifts into Gotham’s weirdest soap opera.

The Fun Zone hadn’t changed much, except now the shady packages were replaced with less shady ones (“Hood-approved” mystery shipments), and Danny had to deal with more vigilantes stopping by to “check on operations.”

Today was no exception.

Danny was wiping down the counter when the door chimed, and none other than Nightwing strolled in, his domino mask firmly in place. He looked entirely too chipper for someone walking into a decrepit arcade that still reeked faintly of stale popcorn.

“Hey there!” Nightwing said, leaning against the counter. “Just here to make sure everything’s running smoothly.”

Danny didn’t bother looking up. “If you’re not here to play laser tag or bowl a few frames, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

Nightwing’s grin widened. “Red Hood owns this place now, doesn’t he?”

“Yep. And I’m his underpaid lackey. You wanna order something, or are you just here to be nosy?”

Nightwing hummed thoughtfully. “How’s the, uh… ‘morale’ under the new management?”

Danny smirked. “Well, we don’t have to stash questionable shipments under the ball pit anymore, so that’s a plus. But Hood keeps leaving his knives in the breakroom, which is honestly a little unsettling.”

“I heard that!” Hood’s voice echoed from the office. A second later, the man himself emerged, fully armed, looking just as annoyed as ever. “Why are you here, Dick?”

Nightwing raised his hands innocently. “Relax, Jaybird. Just making sure you’re not turning this place into a different kind of front.”

“Everything’s fine,” Hood snapped, crossing his arms. “Go away.”

Nightwing glanced at Danny. “You sure? You don’t look like the happiest employee.”

Danny shrugged. “It’s fine. I just wish Hood would stop using the claw machine as target practice.”

Hood growled. “The claw machine is rigged!”

“It’s supposed to be rigged! That’s the point of claw machines!” Danny shot back.

Nightwing snorted. “You two sound like an old married couple.”

“Get out,” Hood growled, pulling a knife—not to throw, just to intimidate, apparently. Nightwing didn’t even flinch.

“All right, all right,” Nightwing said, backing toward the door with a grin. “But if I hear about any suspicious activity, I’ll be back.”

The door chimed as he left, and Hood turned to Danny. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Nope,” Danny replied cheerfully. “It’s part of my charm.”

Hood muttered something about “hiring a quieter cashier” before stomping back into the office, leaving Danny to man the register once more.

An hour later, the Fun Zone was bustling. A birthday party had taken over the bowling alley, and the mini-golf course was a madhouse. Danny was balancing a tray of nachos when he noticed a kid trying to climb the prize wall.

“Hey, kid!” Danny called. “You’re not Spider-Man; get down!”

The kid ignored him, reaching for a stuffed octopus just out of reach. Danny groaned, setting the tray down, but before he could intervene, a familiar figure swooped in—literally. Red Hood vaulted over the counter, grabbed the kid by the back of their shirt, and set them back on the ground like a wayward puppy.

“No climbing,” Hood said, his tone stern.

The kid’s eyes went wide. “Whoa, are you Batman?!”

Danny couldn’t suppress his snort of laughter. Hood turned to glare at him, but the damage was done.

“Nah, kid,” Danny said, grinning. “He’s more like Batman’s grumpy cousin.”

“Go play mini-golf,” Hood muttered, and the kid scampered off, still starstruck.

Danny leaned on the counter, smirking. “You’re really embracing the ‘fun boss’ vibe, huh?”

Hood sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why do I even bother with you?”

“Because I’m the only employee who hasn’t quit,” Danny replied. “Plus, you secretly like me.”

“I don’t like you.”

“Sure, boss.”

Hood muttered something under his breath and stalked back to his office, leaving Danny to deal with the chaos once more.

The rest of the shift passed in relative peace, if you ignored the kid who tried to hotwire a go-kart and the group of teens who smuggled energy drinks into the laser tag arena.

[system-to-the-madness]

Ice - Zuko x Reader

Word Count: 2 582 Warnings: kidnapping, injury, war Summary: After kidnapping the Avatar at the Northpole, Zuko has an unexpected encounter with the person he was longing to see the most A/N: Can be read as a oneshot; Part Two of the series Perfect (10 times Zuko thought you were perfect and the first time he told you), Part One is here Dividers: original by @thecutestgrotto edit by me (colour only)

Zuko sat on the cold ground of the ice cave, his gaze absentmindedly pointed towards the cave’s exit, where a snowstorm kept raging on.  If it weren’t for that storm, he long could have gotten the Avatar back to the ship, the Avatar, who lay unconscious and tied up on the floor just a few feet away. But instead, he was stuck here, in this ice dessert.

How had people ever thought it would be a good idea to build a life up here, so far North? There was nothing here but freezing cold sea, ice and snow. Sure, he knew the territory of the Fire Nation was not necessarily more inviting; most of it was rough stone and dusty ground.

But it had not always been that way. Hundreds of years ago, there had been blooming gardens and tall forests, thriving on the nutrient rich ash the volcanoes spit out. When Fire Lord Sozin had declared the war, the gardens and fields with flowers had been neglected until everything had died or been paved over. Once beautiful parks had been turned into training centres for soldiers. The forests had been cleared to access the iron in the ground and to use the wood for firing up the engines.

Zuko vividly remembered the images in his schoolbooks about the “sacrifice of meaningless aesthetics for the great cause of uniting the world underneath the banner of the Fire Nation”. It had never seemed quite right to him, but he had known better than to question his ancestors’ decisions. Maybe that was why he enjoyed the trips to Ember Island so much: Because there was still nature there.

The storm outside carried snowflakes past the entrance, and in his slowly but surely sleepy mind, he was certain the white, glimmering crystals arranged themselves to your likeliness. A few weeks ago, the idea that his sleep deprived mind taunted him by recognizing your face in all kinds of unrelated patterns, clouds, stars, waves, had terrified him. Now it was almost comforting, imagining the snowflakes to form that face that had burned itself into his memory.

He hadn’t seen you since he had broken you and the Avatar out of Zhao’s prison. While he had run into the Avatar’s little gang of run-aways, you never seemed to have been around. Maybe you had split from the group, maybe you had recognized that betraying your Nation by helping their number one enemy was not the best choice in life. And while Zuko wanted to be satisfied with this explanation, he couldn’t help that empty feeling in his chest that told him that he might never see you again. If you had still been traveling with the Avatar, he could have met you again, but if you had left, the chances of finding you were close to zero. Sure, he knew what you looked like and what your name was. But unlike the Avatar, you wouldn’t stir up as much attention, which meant people wouldn’t notice you, the same way he barely had taken notice of you before getting you out of that cell. Which again in turn meant that when people didn’t notice you, nobody would be able to point him towards where you were.

Zuko shook his head. Was he seriously considering searching for you, someone who, without a second thought had betrayed their nation? He had captured the Avatar; his path was set. He only would have to get him onto a ship now and sail back to the Fire Nation. There he would hand over the boy to his father, who would welcome him home with open arms, and make him his right-hand man, as Zuko had always dreamt of being. He would get to sleep in his bed again, cool, silken sheets wrapping around his body and would get to eat all his favourite foods again.

Still, he knew that your face would haunt him forever, the way you had stood over these guards who you had defeated. The same way your cry would always haunt him, when he had burnt you. He hadn’t meant to, and he wished he could tell you that he hadn’t intended to hurt you. But he never had gotten the chance.

After he had been knocked out on the escape from Zhao, he had woken up in a forest, on a pile of leaves. The Avatar had talked to him, about old friends from the Fire Nation, but Zuko’s entire focus had been on you, who had sat curled in on yourself next to the Avatar. A stripe of orange cloth, doubtlessly from the Avatar’s clothing, had been wrapped around your left arm where Zuko had burnt you in his clumsy attempt to save you from the attacking Fire Benders. You hadn’t looked at him, but even from where he had been laying, it had been obvious, that you had been exhausted. Your eyes had seemed sunken in, you had looked sickly, and even from the distance Zuko had been able to see that you were shaking.

When the Avatar’s words had driven rage into Zuko’s blood, and he had tried attacking the boy, the two of you had simply disappeared. The Avatar had grabbed you as if you didn’t weight more than a small child even though you were taller than him, and together you had disappeared in the branches of the tall trees and Zuko had been left to wonder when or if he would ever get to see your eyes again.

When or if he would ever get to see you look at him with anything other than shock, fear or hatred.

Zuko was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of the Avatar struggling against his restraints. So that little bastard was awake. Quickly Zuko jumped to his feet.

“Welcome back,” Zuko said, glaring at the small body wringing on the ground of the ice cave.

“It’s good to be back,” the Avatar responded, and before Zuko knew what had happened, he was thrown backwards against the wall behind him, his back forcefully knocking into the ice, making pain shoot through his skull and stars dance before his eyes.

As quickly as his aching body allowed, Zuko scrambled back to his feet, chasing after the Avatar, who had made it outside already, trying to wriggle across the snow.

“That won't be enough to escape,” Zuko hissed, pulling the Avatar up by his shirt. He wouldn’t let that kid escape again. He was the only way Zuko would ever get to go home; he needed the Avatar.

A familiar sound above him alerted Zuko even before the Avatar exclaimed: “Appa!”

No, no there was no way. He wouldn’t give up this chance. He had learnt from the past run-ins with the Avatar’s friends. They wouldn’t best him this time. Not now, that he finally had the Avatar so tightly in his grasp, not now, that he was so close to finally going home.

The Sky Bison landed a few meters away in the snow, and the Water Tribe girl jumped down from the beast’s back. But for a moment, just a short moment, Zuko’s attention was on something entirely different, someone different. From behind the saddle of the Sky Bison, a familiar pair of eyes stared at him, familiar hair whipping in the wind. So, you had not left the Avatar’s company, you just hadn’t been close by during the other encounters the group had had with Zuko since your escape from Zhao.

Zuko felt a weight fall off his shoulders. You were here, and you were okay. Even just from the short glance he gave you, he could tell that you were in far better shape than the last time he had seen you in that forest. You seemed to have recovered well after the strain of your imprisonment.

His attention focused back on the Water Tribe girl, who was glaring daggers at him in the dark, moon-lit snow desert. Pushing the Avatar aside, Zuko lifted his hands, ready to fight.

“Here for a rematch,” he challenged. There was no way he would make it home with the Avatar without defeating his annoying, little girlfriend and the others first. Even if it meant fighting against and hurting you again, he had to do it. He couldn’t let you – or anyone else – stand in his way, not when he finally would get the chance to go home.

“Trust me Zuko, it's not going to be much of a match.”

He wanted to scuff at the girl’s words, but before he could, he suddenly was lifted into the air. He only had a moment to realise what was happening. They were surrounded by snow; snow was just hard water. He had challenged a Water Bender while she was in her element and he in the one that was furthest from his bending skill. Which, objectively speaking, was an awful idea. But still, how was she so powerful that she could just throw him around like this? Had he lost so much of his skill? And if he lost this match, they would take the Avatar back with them, would take his only way to go home. He couldn’t let them take that from him, not again. Not after all these years he had spent chasing after the Avatar in the desperate hope to finally go-

The next moment he crashed into the ground, and everything turned black.

Zuko crashed into the ground and a moment later Sokka had already reached Aang, cutting his restraints with his boomerang.

“Hey, this is some quality robe,” he shouted, holding up the cut rope to show you, while you and Yue stayed seated on Appa’s back.

“We need to get to the oasis; the spirits are in trouble,” Aang explained while he undid the rope that tied together his ankles, before running over to Appa and floating himself onto his usual position between the Sky Bison’s horns, while Sokka came running back to settle down in the saddle next to Yue.

Concerned, your eyes flickered back to the Fire Nation prince. He was laying motionless in the snow where Katara had dropped him. You sure didn’t like him, and he had tried kidnapping Aang on more occasions than you could remember. The world would certainly be a better place without him in it, trying to chase all of you down the whole time. But he didn’t deserve being left behind in the snow desert like this. He was unconscious, and who knew for how long. You couldn’t just let him freeze out here.

You were about to speak up, when Aang’s voice sounded over the harsh wind.

“Wait,” he said, making you look at him. His eyes were focused on the unconscious boy laying in the snow. “We can’t just leave him here.”

“Sure we can,” Sokka disagreed. “Let's go.”

“No, if we leave him, he'll die,” Aang responded stubbornly.

 “We don’t know how long he’ll be unconscious for,” you added. “He might freeze if we leave him.”

Aang jumped off Appa, and down into the snow, grabbing Zuko and Air Bending them both back onto Appa’s back.

“Yeah, this makes a lot of sense,” Sokka complained sarcastically. “Let's bring the guy who's constantly trying to kill us.”

Appa took off with a slight growl and Aang dropped Zuko right into your lap, startling you.

“Let’s tie his hands at least,” Sokka whined, holding up the rope with which Aang had previously been tied up.

Rolling your eyes, you shifted the unconscious Prince out of your lap. He was kind of pretty, you thought, as you watched Sokka tie him up. The scar that covered half of the left side of his face was the trace of a bad burn, far worse than the handprint he had left behind on your arm, but it did little to lessen his beauty. The truth was, he had a beautiful face, soft features. If his hair hadn’t mostly been shaven, he might look almost gentle.

Quickly you chased the thought away. Sokka was right, Zuko had tried to kill you and your friends on multiple occasions. You shouldn’t be thinking about him as casually as this. But he had also saved yours and Aang’s life, even though if things had gone according to his plan, you probably would not have escaped. And still… you had a feeling there was more to his story than you were aware of at the moment.

Everything was hazy around him, the ground swaying underneath his body, soft, uneven movements. His wrists hurt, he realized, but his body felt too weak to even try to struggle against the rope that bound his hands. Being unable to move at all, he kept his eyes closed, listening to his surroundings instead. There was the rushing of wind, and the distant sound of people talking, of young people talking. Where was he? What had happened to him? The material he was laying on seemed to be leather, and the swaying was too soft to be that of a boat. Was he on an animal’s back? The ground seemed surprisingly even, not bent as it would have been had it been the saddle of an ostrich horse.

A searing pain shot through his head. Maybe thinking wasn’t the best way to solve the question of where he was right now. So instead, he carefully blinked open his eyes. Above him, the night sky opened up with thousands of stars glimmering in the dark, only a few clouds occasionally interrupting the seemingly endless abys of sparkling darkness. The sight was dizzying, making his head spin. And then suddenly someone leant over him. Zuko still felt so out of it, that he didn’t even flinch as the face appeared above him, the face that had kept haunting him in the past weeks as he had tried catching up to the Avatar.

“You better stay down,” you warned him, but the words barely registered in Zuko’s mind that was too preoccupied by processing just how beautiful you looked above him. The light of the moon reflected in your eyes, making them shimmer like a deep lake in which he only would have been all too happy to drown. Night wind whipped through your hair, pulling at your strands and blowing them over your face. A cut ran across your cheek, red and fresh, the blood barely dried.

A wave of anger shot through Zuko. Who had dared touching, dared hurting you? But then your voice pulled his focus away from the small wound again.

“Stay down,” you repeated.

Zuko’s eyes focused on your lips, the way they formed around the words. Soft looking, smooth lips, that made him wonder if you had ever kissed anyone before. Certainly you had. He couldn’t be the first to notice just how beautiful you were. And you weren’t just beautiful. You were a warrior, you knew how to handle yourself in a fight, you didn’t give up easily and pushed through hardship, no matter how exhausted you were. This much he had learnt from the short time he had spent with you during that prison escape. And you were stubborn and clever and if the look in your eyes as you watched him being barely able to keep his eyes open was anything to go by, you were also kind and sensible. You were perfect.

That was his last thought before he fell unconscious again.

Next Chapter (11. Oct. 2024) | Masterlist

Tags (it seems like some of the tags aren't working, sorry...): @ghoststookourlifes @ashcal99 @4acoffee @pxrplewalnxt @toomuchboredd @banished--prince @oddobsessionbutotay @makik0 @joysflower @hamdehlesmis @mitski9328373 @angstylittleb1tch @lovecalll

[miniwheat77]

Down. (141 x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, double penetration, sex pollen, unprotected sex, gang bang (100% consensual.) THIS IS A GROUP SEX FIC, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. MINORS DNI. !Repost!

Not edited* you can find the ask for this here.

This was easily the most important interview of your life.

Everything you’ve studied for, all of the hard work you’ve put in. Everything. It’s all getting put on the line today.

You sat on the uncomfortable leather couch in the suspiciously nice waiting room, waiting for your name to be called. A man sitting next to you startles you a little and he chuckles. “Sorry, didn’t mean t’ scare ya.” He laughs. You notice his accent before his large build and Mohawk. It’s a lot of man to suddenly throw at a woman.

“It’s alright.” You smile. “You uh.. waiting for an interview or something?” He asks, noticing your pretty dress and heels. “Yeah.. that obvious?” You giggle. “Just a little. I bet a fine lass like you will do great.” He winks. Your cheeks turn red and you roll your eyes. “Thank you. What are you here for?” You ask. “Just waiting for a friend to get done in the lab.” He smiles. He’s got a pretty smile, he’s a really attractive man. You nod your head. “So.. what are you interviewing for?” He asks. “Oh… uh.” You readjust yourself. “It’s a family planning therapist.” You nod. He looks confused. “What’s that mean?”

You smile. “Well.. if I were to get the job, I would speak with new patients. Setting up a plan, the best approach for them. Which tests will work for them better. Stuff like that.” You run your tongue over your bottom lip. “Gotcha. That sounds pretty cool really.” He smiles. “Yeah. What this place does is pretty cool.”

He purses his lips, “yeah. Pretty cool.” He mumbles. Just as he’s about to speak up again, you’re getting called up to the front desk. “Mrs. Phillips is ready for you now.” The receptionist smiles, passing you all of your paperwork. You thank her, making your way up to the elevator. You pressed the top floor, 16.

16 floors of all different types of practices, all in one. It was crazy really. You don’t know what chance you stood for this job, but one can pray.

You heard the elevator ding and it brought you out of your thoughts, stepping outside into the dark carpeted floor. You made your way down the hallway, up to the office you’d be interviewing in. You knocked at the door, after hearing a welcoming ‘come in’ you stepped inside.

What you didn’t know, is that while you were inside of that interview room, all hell was going to break loose.

And it all was going to start by one word from the handsome man you’d met in the lobby.

“Ready.” Soap mumbles into the tiny microphone on him. He watches you as you make your way into the elevator, biting his lip at the way you looked in your black dress. “She’s headed up now, give it 5 and it’s a go.” Soap says as he presses the button for the next elevator. The very moment that door was closed behind your form, they were springing into action. Laswell had written these plans perfectly for them. Showed them exactly where the problem was, and how to take care of it.

They picked the lock to the room they needed to be on, moving quietly, drawing as little attention to themselves as possible. Once the room was open, they were shocked as they took it all in. Thousands of gallons of liquid all filled one room. Large vats, syringes, spray bottles, everything. They split into pairs, Ghost and Soap started destroying the liquid, contaminating parts, breaking open the large vats. Gaz and Captain Price moved to destroy any paperwork they could find, removing the ability to ever create this again. By the time they were finished, they were rushing out. Moving quickly to the elevator. The four men piled in, and as Soap pressed the lobby button, you stepped inside. “Oh.. sorry. I can catch the next one.” You smile, going to step out, but Gaz reaches out to take your hand. “Nonsense, there’s enough for us all.” He smiles. Anything to look natural.

They watched the floors tick by.

15…

14…

13…

12…

11…

10…

9…

Just as you’re about to reach the eight floor, a loud alarm began going off and you looked around in a panic. “Shit.” Captain Price mumbles. A red light started flashing in the elevator and the floor feels like it slips out from under your feet as the elevator plummets a few more floors. A scream leaves your lips and Soap reaches out to you, holding you close to him. When the elevator hangs up, you all freeze, looking around. “Everyone okay?”

You nod your head. Worried. You hear creaking, bracing yourselves for another plummet. You clutch onto Soap as the elevator collapses once more, a few more floors dinging passed. You have your eyes clenched tight. “Fuck- fucking hell. We’re about to be in the parking garage.” Gaz breathes. “We’ve got to make it fall again.” He breathes. The five of you work to make it fall again, jumping at the same time, but it’s stuck. You can’t even pry the doors open. “Fuck..”

“Let’s just press the emergency button.” You shrug.

“No!” They all yell in unison, Soap grasping your hand.

“What? Why?”

They all sigh.

You’re close enough to the parking garage that you hear all kinds of cars speeding off. Most likely the team that created this mess, ditching it.

“What the hell is going on?” You ask. They all exchange glances with each other before Captain Price sighs. He reaches his hand out to you, “I’m Captain John Price. This is my task force. We’re here on a mission.” He sighs. “Task force? A mission? What is even here that would have to be.. what?” You ask. “We’ve been tracking this for a few years now.” He digs a piece of paper out of his pocket. It’s got information on the mysterious pink liquid. Along with a photo of it. “We tracked it back to a lab in Japan that were experimenting on people, the death toll was up to a few hundred before we caught sight of them. We busted up their operation but one of them got away, and for a while now they’ve been hiding here, under the false impression that they’re here to help people.” You look confused. “Sex drug?”

“This is a chemically modified sex drug. That’s what they administer here. It helps, of course. It aids in pregnancy, helps with sex drive. But… when taken without any stimulation. The patient dies. The death toll from this building alone is in the hundreds already,” he explains. Your lips are parted, you’re shocked. “So.. what did you guys do?” You ask. Captain Price smiles. “We destroyed whatever of the drug they had left, and destroyed all of the paperwork.” You nod your head. You thought that these people were helping. You thought that they were just miracle workers. But they were evil.

“Damn. I really wish you would’ve told me that before I went in there and rocked that stupid interview.” You roll your eyes.

Something dripping onto Ghosts shoulder has you all stopping to look at him. He looks up, seeing that there is something pooling up above him. “What is that?” There’s a small crack.

Just as quickly as it drips onto Ghost, it absorbs into his skin. “What the hell?” He asks. “Isn’t this the elevator closest to the lab?” You ask. “Where.. we broke open all of those fucking vats of the drug.” Gaz laughs. “Fuck.” He groans. “We have to get the fuck out of here.” You mumble. You turn to try to pry open the door again. Gasping when something spills down your back. You spin around, seeing that the drug has started spilling through any cracks. All over everyone in the elevator. It absorbs just as soon as it touches you, but it’s cold at first. It makes you feel fuzzy. Sending chills up your spine. “It’s so cold.” You breathe. The group is going quiet as you stand there, arms wrapped around yourself. Ghost is the first to hide his growing erection with his hands.

You’ve got a black dress on, your hair loose and falling around your shoulders, skin exposed.

You take in a deep breath, feeling wetness pool between your legs. “Let’s try jumping again.” Gaz nods. Everyone agrees. “On the count of three.” He nods.

When he reaches three, each one of you jump. But the Elevator doesn’t even creak. It’s stuck.

Soap moves forward, sliding passed Gaz and Captain Price as he looks at you. He steps closer to you, making you back up into the metal wall behind you. “Soap? What are you doing?” Gaz asks. “Johnny?” Ghost asks. He leans down into you, making you breathe out, he inhales the scent of you, head low. His lips are only a few centimeters from your neck and you’re nervous as he pins you up to the wall. “We don’t have to die.” He sighs. “We’ve got this pretty thing right here.” He smiles. You look up at him. Eyes burning into him. “Isn’t that right darling?” He breathes. Running his hand up your bare thigh. He sends chills up your spine, a gasp leaving your lips as he moves it higher. “It’s the drug talking. We have to keep trying.” Gaz grits his teeth.

You take in a deep breath. “No..” you mumble. Peeking at Gaz. “He’s right.” You breathe, feeling Soap’s fingertips against your panties. “As long as I’m here you’re all safe.” You sigh, pushing your hips into Soap’s hand. “What, you think you’ll be able to handle all four of us?” He snorts. You look at him, glancing up to where there were more droplets of the drug pooling at the top. You reach your hand up, running your fingertip over it. It drips into your hand and down your arm before absorbing into your skin. “Mhm..” you breathe.

The seconds tick by. The more time that passes the less logical they’re all thinking. And before you know it, they’re pouncing on you like a pack of wild wolves.

Gaz is sucking at one side of your neck, Soap is on the other. Kissing and sucking at your skin. You can feel hands all over you, and you can barely keep it together. You feel amazing.

You can feel fingertips dancing at your opening. “What do I call you?” You breath, looking around at each of them.

“Kyle.” Gaz pants.

“Johnny.” Soap hikes your leg up onto his hip.

“Simon.” Ghost breathes, tugging his mask off and tucking it into his pocket.

“John.” Captain Price nods.

You take in a deep breath, nodding your head. You look up at the ceiling as you’re being devoured. Their lips are on you, leaving traces that burn. John moves himself between Kyle and Johnny, dropping to his knees and pushing your dress up over your hips. He kisses your clit through your panties and you glance down, moaning at the sight of him. You snake a hand between you and Kyle, grasping a handful of Johns hair, whining as you feel his wet tongue against you through your panties. He tugs your panties down your plushy thighs, admiring how soft you feel. Once he has them off, shoved into his pocket for another day, his lips are on your clit. Lapping up the expanse of sensitive flesh, a gasp leaving your lips and you moan out, Johnny moving to kiss you to keep you quiet, not that it mattered.

He just wants to feel your lips on his.

Kyle pumps his cock lazily as he works at your neck. He’s leaving as many marks as he possibly can. Sucking and biting. Simon watches intensely. Fighting the urge to touch himself as he admires the view.

“Cmon, get on the ground darling.” John mumbles, pulling away from you. They pull you down until you’re laying on your back, and that’s when they surround you.

John is between your legs. Simon and Gaz are to your right and left, and Johnny is looking down at you from right directly above you. “Let’s see what this pretty mouth can do hm?” He breathes, leaning down. He bumps his nose over yours kissing your lips again. “Such a pretty fucking thing, I knew I wanted to fuck you in the waiting room but didn’t think it’d actually happen.” He chuckles. He exposes his cock to you, and you glance at Simon and Kyle, reaching your hands out to them. Simon has to undo his belt, Kyle is already completely exposed, desperate to be touched by you. John pushes your legs up and you take a second to glance at him, biting your lip. Your body is hot, it feels like at any moment you’re going to burst into flames. You’ve never been so turned on in your life. He rubs his bare cock over the folds of your pussy, your whines egg him on. Johnny chuckles at your desperation, Simon and Kyle tap your hips to get your dress completely off. Exposing you to them entirely.

“Look at that..” Johnny chuckles, eyeing his Captain as he teases your pussy. He’s rubbing his cock back and fourth over your clit. “How bad do you want it?”

“So bad…” you mewl. “Please, please fuck me.” You pant. John smirks, pushing the tip of his cock into you, watching it disappear inside of you, a gasp leaving your lips. You’ve got Simon and Kyle in both of your hands, pumping their lengths quickly. John fucks into you, hard and fast. He needs the release. You look up at Johnny, he’s pumping his cock, smirking down at you. “You ready for me?” He smiles. “Yes.” You whine. He moves closer, the tip of his cock brushes against your lips. The tip is blushing red and leaking precum. You look up at him one last time before tilting your head back and taking him into your mouth.

He sighs at the feeling of your lips on him, not being able to help himself as he rocks his hips into you. He gives you a couple minutes to adjust, letting you breathe. “Hold your breath. M’gonna fuck your throat.”

You do as he says, taking in a big breath of air, he pushes his cock down into you, watching your throat bulge out at the size of him. He grasps handfuls of your hair, fucking your throat hard and fast. He growls when you clutch onto him. You need to breathe. He stops for a second, sliding himself completely out of your mouth as you gasp for air. “Just about made me cum from that little bit. Fucking good girl.” He breathes. “M’gonna cum down this pretty throat, can you take it?” He smirks. You nod your head. “Good, hold your breath again.”

You brace yourself again, opening your mouth to take him down, sucking down a harsh breath, feeling him tug your hair and hold you down to fuck your throat. Your throat is getting sore but you want him to cum.

“Fuck- fuck.” He breathes. “Just.. just a second more. Yes.. oh fuck yes!” He gasps, hips stuttering as he cums deep down your throat, feeling you swallow around him. He growls at the feeling, letting his head fall back. He slides out of your mouth with a gasp, hearing you suck in harsh breath, coughing slightly. Maybe he was a little too rough. “Fucking hell.. your throat is magical.” He mumbles. A little embarrassed by how fast he’s just cum. He moves back, avoiding the cracks that the invasive drug seeps through. Sitting toward the corner where the door is. He takes a deep breath, letting his head fall back against the metal wall. His skin is hot, on fire. He needs to calm down. His eyes stay glued to you. To where you’re being used.

Your eyes are full of tears as you raise yourself up for a second, seeing John thrusting into your pussy. You swallow hard, eyes rolling back at his brutal pace. Your eyes are heavy and watery, throat raw from Johnny’s brutal pace. “Fuck-“ John groans. “M’gonna cum already.” He gasps. Sliding out of you and covering your stomach in his cum. Hearing you gasp at the sudden emptiness he’s left behind. He takes a second, panting hard. Before standing up to adjust his pants. Groaning at the sensitivity he feels when he tucks himself back into his cargo pants.

Ghost is quick to take his place, moving himself between your legs.

He scoots closer, grasping your thighs and lifting you up. Hearing you gasp as he slides into you. He stands up onto his feet, backing up into the elevator wall. “You think you can take two of us?” He smiles. You look behind you, seeing Kyle pumping his cock. You nod your head. “Yes.” You breathe. “Good girl.” He breathes. You turn back to him, looking him in the eyes, squirming against him. You’re desperate to cum, feeling so full but receiving no friction from his thick cock that sits deep inside of you. You feel Kyle’s hands on your ass, spitting on his fingertips to prep you for him. Using his fingers to stretch open your holes.

You gasp slightly, burying your head into the crook of Simon’s neck, feeling him tighten his grip around your waist. Kyle lines himself up with you, pressing his tip against your ass, sinking into you slowly. Simon feels you tense up, keeping a tight grip on you for comfort. “Halfway there.” Kyle breathes. “Just a little more.”

“S’alright. Doing so good.” Simon mumbles, lifting you off of him and letting you sink back down onto his cock, hearing a gasp leave your lips. “So fucking tight-“ Kyle gasps. His voice is desperate. Kyle grasps the underside of your thighs, helping hold you steady as they both start slow, rocking their hips into you, a cry leaving your lips. “Oh my god-“ you whine. “It’s so much.” You clench your eyes closed. “Is it too much? Do you want us to stop?” Kyle asks. You shake your head. “No- I want to cum.” You breathe. Hearing them both chuckle at your response.

They start to speed up their pace, thrusting into you. Keeping up a rhythm. Filling you up at once, leaving you empty. You’ve got a death grip on Simon, crying into his shoulder as they use you. Filling you up so perfectly. Simon hits that perfect spot and you pull away from him, eyes widening. “What?” He asks quietly.

He hits it again and tears start to spill from your eyes. “So good, whatever you keep touching feels so good” you sob. Hearing him chuckle. He moves you up on him slightly, getting the perfect angle to thrust up into your spongy spot, feeling your thighs shake as you cry out. You won’t last long like this.

But neither will they.

Your whole body shivers at their assault on you, the buzzing you feel in your head, it’s overwhelming.

The thought of being used by four men you barely know is breathtaking, so foreign to you.

Your eyes roll back, squirming. “I- I’m gonna-“ you can’t even finish your sentence as you soak Simon completely, body jerking hard as you reach your orgasm, the both of them working into you still, hearing you cry because of the overstimulation. “Just a little more..” Kyle gasps.

You reach behind yourself, entwining your fingers with his as they sit on your thigh. Holding onto him tightly as he works his hips into yours. “I’m gonna cum- ah!” He cries out, hips stuttering as he slides out of you. Hissing as he cums. “F-fuck. Holy shit.” He breathes. He backs away from you, just as Simon braces himself to fuck you hard. “Almost there. Got me so close sweetheart.” He breathes. You raise yourself up on him, kissing him. You can feel his black face paint smearing slightly on your nose and cheeks, but cease to care as he pounds himself up into you. Crying into your mouth when he reaches his high. Forgetting entirely to pull out of you. Filling you to the hilt with his potent cum. Your eyes are wide when you pull away from him. You keep quiet, hissing slightly when he sets you down, knees buckling under you. You catch yourself, sitting on the ground of the elevator. You’re breathing hard, eyes are on you.

“Here.” Soap passes you an undershirt that he’d had on. “Thank you.” You blush hard. Cleaning yourself up.

“Got to Laswell. She’s sending out reinforcements. Don’t know how long it’ll be.” John sighs.

Ghost gasps, feeling something cold run down his neck, looking up. More of the drug.

He sighs.

“That’s fine. Looks like we’re not done just yet.” He laughs.

[millieisawriter]

La redención de un tonto

javier escuella x reader

summary: the fall of the van der linde gang was the thing that doomed what had been between you and javier. you loved each other, you truly did, but after he chose dutch's side, and you stood by arthur, you knew this is the end. however, a few years later the fate had led you right back to javier.

wc: 2.7k

all pics taken from pinterest

!!!rdr2 spoilers!! rdr1 spoilers too i guess?

♡this was requested!♡

a/n: okay so i have never played rdr1 nor have i watched any gameplays, but i conciously spoiled it to myself after having finished rdr2, so i know what happens in rdr1, but forgive me if i have missed some details from the game

You never had the intention of heading to Mexico. Well, back when you and Javier were a thing, he always talked about how he was someday going to take you there. But due to what happened to the gang, it never happened, so you buried the memories six feet deep.

Long story short, Javier sided with Dutch and his ideas that got crazier each day, one worse than the other. On one hand you understood his loyalty, but you looked at the problem more objectively. Dutch's brilliant ideas were dangerous, leading the gang into a dead end, from where there was no saving.

"Loyalty is the only thing that can save us." Javier would often remind you.

By then, the gang had moved somewhere near Annesburg. The damn cave you had cleared of its previous tenants was making the camp feel cold, unfamiliar, even scary. Or maybe it wasn't the cave's fault. So much had changed the past few months since that failed job in Blackwater.

"Look, I love Dutch like a father, he practically raised me," you had replied, "but right now he's leading us all into a grave!"

"So what, you're going to side with Arthur? With John? Turn your back on everything we've built?"

"I can't be with you if you support ideas of a man who doesn't give a shit about none of us anymore!"

In that moment, you had been ready to leave. If only Javier wanted to, you two would have left the gang, keep your head low for some time, and eventually leave a happy ever after.

But that never happened. Javier had been blinded by his loyalty to Dutch, and you saw it even without Arthur pointing it out. Because Dutch saved Javier's life a few years before, Javier was now willing to give it up for plans that were doomed from the start.

After you had left, you had no idea what happened to any of the others. You've heard a whisper here and there in saloons, talking of the great fall of the Van Der Linde gang, some people that died, but never any details.

"I guess this is where we part ways." You had stated the last time you ever saw Javier. It were as if you needed to say it for yourself, because it still didn't feel real.

Old you never thought a breakup with Javier would ever have to happen. But then, the old Javier wouldn't put Dutch over the love of his life. Maybe it just wasn't what you were to him, after all.

He knew you still loved him, even if you hated you were on separate edges of the war within your gang. "You don't mean that."

Did he say that because he still loved you too? Or was he just so full of himself? In that moment it hit you, the memory of how John had called Javier a cynic that tried so hard to be a romantic. Maybe the fall of the gang caused Javier's true colors to show.

"I do." Tears appeared in your eyes when you thought about how you'd often imagine saying these words to Javier, but in slightly different circumstances.

For a moment, you thought he might argue, that he would try to convince you one last time. But instead, he looked at you with an expression you had never seen on his face before. There was sorrow, and regret. And the sign of an internal struggle within him.

"Then go," his final words pierced your heart, "just don't expect me to save you when everything falls apart."

Like a prophecy, everything did fall apart. The next few years were so difficult for you. You couldn't get a job, you had practically nothing left. You left the gang, but you never left the life of crime. It was the only way of living you knew.

The price on your head grew, at some point you stopped keeping track of how much it was. You had no way to redeem yourself, but there wasn't a thing you'd regret. You did what you had to in the order to survive. Regret wouldn't feed you, and it sure as hell wouldn't protect you from the men who wanted your head.

The next job was supposed to be simple. You were going to deliver a shipment of rifles to a small band of people like yourself near the border. But nothing ever went according to plan and you were ambushed. You ran, and all you knew was that now you were in Mexico, the place you were supposed to someday visit with the man you once had loved.

Coming back to America would be too risky, maybe fate just wanted for you to end up in Mexico, so after weeks of travel you thought you finally found a safer place to rest. The building looked like an abandoned house, falling apart, but it was better than the lack of any roof over your head.

You woke up one night to a group of unfamiliar male voices talking to each other outside. In Spanish, so you didn't even understand a single word. Before you could silently flee, the door opened, and you had been found by a group of Mexican bounty hunters.

Maybe it was the dehydration, the hunger, the lack of good sleep, but you could swear one man looked way too familiar.

"Javier..?" You asked quietly, to shocked to be scared by the three other men pointing their guns at you.

"¿La conoces?" One of the men asked, as Javier's shocked expression didn't go unnoticed.

["Do you know her?"]

Javier quickly recomposed himself, as if slipping into a role. "Es mía." It was a gamble, but Javier had always been good at those.

["She's mine."]

"¿De qué carajos estás hablando, Escuella?"

["What the fuck are you talking about?"]

"Vale más viva. Y no pienso compartir la recompensa. Váyanse ahora o ninguno de ustedes se va a ir caminando."

["She's worth more alive. And I'm not going to share the reward. Leave now, or none of you will walk away walking."]

The other bounty hunters passed knowing looks among each other. "Bien," one of them nudged Javier, you reckoned it was a playful gesture, "es tu problema."

["Fine, she's your problem."]

The other men left, and you were confused. How the hell were you having a reunion with Javier in such circumstances? As if out of habit, your reached for your gun, resting your hand on the holster at your hip.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You asked, standing up.

"I could ask you the same thing, querida." He raised his hands to show you he doesn't mean bad. "I'm not going to hurt you." He's always had an accent when he spoke in English, which you had always adored. Now, the accent was even more prominent.

You pointed the gun at him, unlocking it. "Yeah, just hand me over so I can swing." You snapped. "That's the great Javier Escuella! Bounty hunting, of all things! That's ridiculous!"

"At least it's honest work. Continuing the way you chose... did you think the law will never catch up to you?"

"That's rich coming from you."

Javier's jaw muscles twitched, betraying the calmness was just a mask he put on. He lowered his hands slowly, but didn't reach for his weapon. "You don't know what I've been through. I lost everything."

"Just as I did! I've lost the gang, the life we had... you..." you paused before you seethed at him, "don't you dare act like you're the only one who's suffered. Nothing justifies selling people out for a few... whatever currency you have here."

Javier's gaze softened, you could swear you saw his lips twitch into a smirk momentarily. "I didn't sell you out, did I?"

Suddenly, the words 'then go, just don't expect me to save you when everything falls apart,' rang in your mind again. Truth be told, those words were said in anger, and right now... Javier was far from angry.

He hadn't seen you in years, but he still loved you. Maybe even more than before. After the gang fell appart, he quickly came to the conclusion you were the love of his life. There was no one better before, nor after. Meeting you again was felt like life giving him another chance.

"Why don't you sell me out, then?" You asked, lowering your weapon.

Javier smirked, as if the answer was supposed to be obvious to you. "Because I don't want you to swing, querida." He took a few steps closer, carefully as if approaching a wild animal.

"You don't get to suddenly act as if you care." Your voice was aggressive, but it sounded forced, almost cracking. "Let me go, and tell your... friends that I ran away."

"I couldn't let you go for all these years. You think I haven't thought about you every day since we parted? You think I don't regret the choices I made?"

You knew Javier has always had a way with words. In the charming way, not in the brash way Sean used to. Javier's words were like quiet, seductive whispers whenever he wanted or needed them to be. And maybe right now he just needed to sweet-talk you into giving in.

"Regret doesn't mean shit," you tried to snap at him, "you chose Dutch over me. We could leave the gang, leave a good life—"

Javier interrupted you, "Dutch knew how to get inside our heads."

"Just help me get out of here."

Javier took a deep breath, glancing outside the broken window momentarily. He could see the other bounty hunters leaving, the road's dust raising at their horses' hooves. They were far enough.

"Fine." Javier said finally, his voice disappointed.

The man grabbed your wirst, sternly but without hurting you. Now that he had you again, he was supposed to let you go. That wasn't what he wanted.

After he led you outside, you felt his grip loosen up to eventually let go of your wrist completely. Contrary to what it should make you feel, you were... disappointed? As if at some point you thought he would fight harder to win you back.

Then you realized. Javier didn't want to part ways again, but neither did you. And just when you thought there was no more hope, the man spoke up.

"You don't know this place," he said, "you're hungry, exhausted, don't know the language. Let me help you."

Your stomach had been empty for a long time, your legs ached, and the pounding in your head was getting unbearable. There were more reasons not to trust Javier, than to trust him, but you needed help. Maybe you could just sneak away after he helps you.

"And what do you get out of this?" You asked.

"I get to make up for my mistakes." He replied. "I'll show you I'm not the same man that let you go. Maybe I'll even get to keep you safe this time."

"I don't need saving. I can survive on my own."

"Not here, querida. This isn't the United States. How are you going to survive if you don't know how to even buy a damn apple in Spanish?"

Scoffing, you crossed your arms. "Don't need talking to steal."

"And make your bounty grow?" He sighed. "Admit it, you need help. Let me to that, please."

You replied after a moment of silence, "Fine. But don't think it makes up for what you did."

Javier nodded, smiling faintly. He led you to his horse, offering his hand to help you mount. Hesitantly, you took it. You pride didn't want to, but you were too exhaused.

Before climbing up himself, Javier reached for his sombrero and handed it to you. "Here."

It wasn't much, but it was better than leaving your face fully exposed, so you accepted it. You hoped wearing a man's hat didn't mean the same thing in Mexico as it did in the United States, but you tried to push that thought away regardless.

Then, you pulled the bandana from around your neck up over your face, completing the makeshift disguise. It was better than nothing, but what you really needed, were new clothes. Maybe something that wouldn't scream wanted criminal.

Some time later, a time that felt like enternity to you, Javier's horse came to a stop at a saloon. It looked as if it was about to collapse, but apparently the interior was full of life.

"Don't worry," Javier reassued you, dismounting, "most of them got a bounty on their heads. No one will care."

You reluctantly followed Javier inside. The saloon was dimly lit, and no one even seemed to care when you two walked inside. Despite the location being rather safe, Javier paid for a room, and that was where you ate your meal.

The meal wasn't fancy, but it tasted like heaven after weeks of surviving on whatever you could find. Either the saloon's cook was wasting his talent working in a place like this, or the fact that you hadn't had a proper meal in so long made it seem that way.

Javier leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching you. "Good?" He asked.

You nodded, swallowing the last bite. "Yeah."

Javier watched you for a moment longer before looking away. For all the tension between you, there was something in his gaze that you recognized well. Inside the man he was now, was still the man you once loved.

He was different. Older, worn by life and everything that had happened the past few years, but so were you. Thinking about what to say next, you moved from the tiny table to the bed.

"Why are you doing this?" You asked, making Javier's eyes shift back to you.

"Because..." he hesitated, "I never stopped thinking about you, about what happened. I didn't even know if you were alive. I was a fool, querida. I thought loyalty was everything, that Dutch had all the answers. Turns out he didn't, and it cost me the only thing that ever really mattered."

You didn't know what to reply. Of course, years of anger wouldn't disappear after a bunch of nice words. But it definitely cracked the surface of your shell. Part of you wanted to push him away, to protect yourself. But another part wanted to believe him, the part that saw in him your former lover.

When you didn't answer, Javier continued talking, making a bold move by sitting down on the bed. Right next to you. What it made you feel was so familiar yet so distant, you had to shift in spot, attempting to make the distance between the two of you a bit bigger. It barely worked.

Javier leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. He wasn't looking at you when he spoke. "I know I don't deserve forgiveness," he couldn't look at you when he said this, "but I need you to know I never stopped loving you."

His words were an arrow that pierced right through your heart. As painful as it was, his feelings for you never faded. Even back when he made that choice to stand by Dutch. Especially then.

You took a breath to reply, but you couldn't come up with any words. So it just sounded as if you let out a sigh. That didn't make Javier feel any better.

He turned to look at you. "I'd take it all back if I could. I'd leave it all behind for you, right here, right now. Just say the word."

It was the way he said it that finally broke your shell completely. The way his voice was vulnerable. It proved to you that he wasn't trying to manipulate you.

Without thinking, you reached for his hand. He didn't know what to do, but he surely didn't want you to let go.

"You're an idiot." You said, but your voice was soft, without malice. "But so am I for what I still feel for you."

Judgning by how he's been acting, you thought he'll catch a hint this is the moment where he kisses you. It seemed as if he was too stunned to react immediately, so you took the matters in your own hands and leaned in.

It started hesitantly. He kissed you back, but the both of you were carefully walking along the thin thread of any trust that there was left. It took Javier a moment, but his hands eventually pulled you closer. He used to think he had lost you forever, so when he finally found you again... he didn't want to let go.

[heretoreadfanfic1]

Stay With Me

Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x Human!Reader 

Warnings: NSFW smut and blood 

Word Count: 2,932 

You and Kol had been sneaking around for a few months now and things were going great. When you two met there was an instant attraction but you both knew things could get messy fast due to you both running in opposing circles so to speak. Kol was an original after all and you, well you were just Carolines cousin visiting Mystic Falls for the summer. 

You had met Kol at Carolines house while he was trying to hunt down his brother Klaus who seemed to have some sort of infatuation with your cousin. Of course, you had known all about this being extra close to Caroline. You two talk on the phone almost every day about the new gossip in each of your lives and naturally boys are almost always a topic of conversation. However, Caroline never mentioned Klaus had an exceptionally charming and good looking younger brother. 

When he knocked at the door you weren’t expecting anyone home for hours and were, for lack of better words, indecent. Frankly you weren’t planning on answering the door or getting up off the couch until you finished the latest season of your current favorite show. Kol though, is quite persistent until he gets exactly what he wants. You finally broke about 10 minutes later, getting annoyed with all the knocking, and answered the door dressed in a thin baby pink pajama set that was a little too tight and a little to see through for your lack of a bra.  

The tall and shockingly attractive stranger looked down at you, a bit taken aback. His mouth quickly turned up into a smirk as he leaned against the door frame saying, “Well this was not what I was expecting but I love a good surprise, Darling.” 

“You know it’s rude to bang on peoples' doors when they are clearly ignoring you. Do you have a hard time taking hints?” you respond harshly.  

“Mmm, I like pretty things with sharp tongues. I don’t mean to be rude love, I’m Kol.” He takes your hand and places a soft kiss on your knuckles. He continues without letting go, “I was just looking for my pain of a brother and assumed he’d be up to no good with his sweet Caroline. Either way I’ve never seen you around here before and I think my first priority should be changing that.” He chuckles. Kol licks his lips while looking you up and down undressing you with his eyes, not that your clothing leaves much to the imagination.  

You pause before replying, already falling for his captivating nature, “Oh, you’re Klaus’ brother? Caroline never mentioned any brothers. I’m (y/n), Caroline is my cousin and I'm just here visiting for the summer, but I definitely need to make some more friends around here so I might grant your wish of getting to know me.” You say slow and seductive biting on your lower lip and looking up at him.  

The way Kol was staring at you made your body tingle in anticipation more than you had ever felt before and you knew you just had to have him. It wasn’t long after that interaction that you two began seeing each other. You were careful not to draw too much attention to yourselves, so far as not even telling Caroline he had been to the house that day. Kol had vaugly explained the relationship his family had with the rest of the gang, and you didn’t want to be bothered by their opinions on who you chose to associate yourself with.  

Fast forward a little over two months later and you were sneaking out to see Kol at least three times a week. He was like a drug you just wanted more and more of, like you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. A few weeks into your relationship he told you almost everything, at least what you needed to know, about Mystic Falls such as the vampires, werewolves, witches, and the truth as to why he and his family don’t see eye to eye with Elena and the rest of the Carolines friends. At first you didn’t believe him about any of it until he showed you who he really was.  

Seeing his face change with deep veins running down his under eyes and sharp fangs poking out of his teeth was terrifying at first, but Kol reassured you he wouldn’t hurt you, unless you asked him to.  

... 

“Darling, why must you care so much about what those idiots are doing anyway.” Kol said laying down on his king sized bed reading some old book he picked up off his bedside table.  

“I don’t, well, I guess I do. It’s just it gets on my nerves how Caroline always is sneaking off with Elena to do things that I have to pretend not to know about when really, she should be spending time with me who came down here to get to see her in person for once.” You rant pacing around the room, annoyed with your cousin and her group of friends who treat you like you’re some innocent child. 

Kol slams the book shut in irritation having listened to you ramble about nothing of real importance for the last hour or so and tosses it onto a nearby chair “That’s enough, I quite enjoy you, but I cannot stand to listen to another word about those blithering fools.”  

In the blink of an eye Kol grabs you and pins you against the door, arms held above your head by your wrists. You gasp and look up at him through your lashes breathless waiting for his next move.  

He leans in close whispering “If you continue talking about nonsense, I'm going to have to punish you, and you don’t want that now do you sweetheart? So, are you going to be a good girl for me?” 

“Yes, sir.” you choke out a heat igniting in your core. 

“Good answer darling.” Kol lets go of your wrists grabbing you under your ass and picking you up. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist while he grinds himself into you and you can feel him harden between your thighs. He grabs a fistful of hair from the back of your head pulling you back and kissing you roughly. You moan into his mouth your hands finding their way to his hair tugging on the messy brown strands to try to fight for dominance, but it’s a losing battle.  

He pulls away from you and you gasp for air as he makes his way down your neck with hot sloppy kisses pausing at just the right spot. He inhales and lightly drags his teeth across your skin. You know exactly what he wants from you, but he can’t bring himself to take it.  

“Please Kol, I want you to do it.” you plead in a quiet yet needy voice. “Drink from me, I'm all yours just take it.” You've been wanting to see how it would feel for him to feed from you but never knew how to approach the subject. You couldn’t deny the jealousy that grew deep inside you when you thought of him drinking from other women. In fact, you wanted to be the only one he got his fix from. 

He looked up at you to confirm this is what you wanted and when he saw the lack of hesitation in your eyes, he sped you over to the bed laying you down ripping your shirt clean off and throwing the tattered fabric to the floor. He takes a moment to let his eyes graze over your figure and admire the black lacey bralette that highlights your curves before sinking his teeth deep into your neck. You let out a little yelp from the initial sting of pain but that soon was replaced with absolute pleasure. Your head started to feel light and as he was drinking his right hand made its way down your body and into your pants pushing the fabric of your panties out of the way as his fingers began to tease your clit.  

A loud moan falls from your mouth and your eyes roll back as he plays with you just how he knows you like it. Just as you start to feel lightheaded, he stops himself from feeding, making sure you didn’t lose too much blood and bites into his own wrist placing it to your mouth and telling you to drink to heal the wound on your neck.  

“Aren’t you delicious.” He breathes out softly and licks excess blood off from where he punctured your neck. “And I’d bet in more ways than one.”  

Kol stops playing with your clit pulling your shorts all the way off and removing his shirt before dropping to his knees on the floor. He pulls you to the edge of the bed by your hips and you whimper in anticipation. He teases you kissing your inner thighs creeping closer and closer to your middle before stopping. 

“Beg for me.” He pauses and looks up at you  

“Please Kol, I just want you to touch me I need it. I can’t wait any longer don’t tease me right now.” You whine bucking your hips towards him while he laughs quietly.  

“Only because you listen so well.” He says before dipping his tongue between your folds. 

“Oh my god!” you shout. Your legs subconsciously trying to close from how much pleasure you’re feeling. Kol forces them apart and keeps going dragging his tongue across your pussy drawing little circles around your clit causing you to arch your back screaming out in satisfaction. 

“I’m so close.” you shout gripping at the sheets almost unable to take it anymore as he pumps two of his fingers inside of you. He continues to drag his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves while stroking your g-spot with his fingers. It isn’t long until pressure builds in your lower body and your legs start to shake uncontrollably. Screaming out you arch your back, eyes squeezing closed as waves of euphoria crash down on you. 

Kol pulls away looking content with himself “I hope I didn’t wear you out too much darling, the fun is only beginning.”  

He gets up off the floor and you sit up undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans hastily. As soon as the task is complete, he pulls his pants the rest of the way down letting his erection spring free. No matter how many times you were with him his size still made your eyes go wide. Immediately you take him in your mouth swirling your tongue around the tip and using your hands to compensate for what doesn’t fit. Kol tilts his head back groaning and grabs the back of yours urging you to take him in deeper.  

The action makes you go faster bobbing down onto him eager to give back at least a fraction of the pleasure he just gave you.  

You make sure to give him a show hollowing out your cheeks for extra suction and looking up at him through your lashes. You let out little moans as he hits the back of your throat allowing him to feel the vibrations of the noises causing him to grip the back of your head even harder. Soon you can feel his dick start to throb which you know means he’s close to his own release, but just before he cums he pushes you off of him. 

Kol wastes no time turning you around ass up and pushing your chest down into the bed. You grip the bottom of the headboard to steady yourself bracing for what you know will come next. To your surprise instead of slamming into you he starts to tease you again with his hands pumping his fingers in and out of you and then sliding them down to graze over your clit. You bury your face into a pillow and whimper wanting nothing else but to feel him inside you. 

“God you’re soaking wet, love. Is this what I do to you?” He pulls his fingers away and spanks your ass hard making you yelp.  

“It’s all for you Kol. My pussy is all yours only yours.” You reply gasping. 

“How did I get so lucky” Kol utters to himself, but before you can respond he thrusts himself into you harshly. 

You cry out adjusting to his size as he fills you up completely. Kols fingers dig into your hips pulling you deeper onto him if that's even possible. He picks up the pace fucking you nice and deep until you're a moaning mess. Hungry to ruin you, he bends over to reach around your body with his right hand and uses it to play with your clit as he fucks you.  

“I can’t take it” You scream out overwhelmed with how good he makes your body feel. 

“You’re going to take it until I say so darling.” Kol grunts out not slowing down one bit. 

Your body is aching for release as Kol slams into you repeatedly and you can no longer hold back your orgasm. You start to shake as all your muscles tighten up and your vision blacks out. All you can hear is a loud ringing in your ears and all you can feel is Kol inside of you as you cum for the second time that night.  

Kol feels you cum on his dick and can’t contain himself as you tighten around him further. You screaming his name out in pleasure only makes him go harder not caring if you're still able to walk tomorrow or who can hear you loudly proclaiming who is making you feel this good. He follows not far behind you with his own release, groaning loudly filling you up with spurts of his warm liquid. Kol gives you some more thrusts, feeling territorial, wanting his seed deep inside of you to mark you as his own.  

As he comes down from the high of his own orgasm, he pulls out rolling over and collapsing beside you pulling you closer. You’re feeling exhausted after all the energy Kol had taken from you and begin to drift off while lying on his chest.  

“Not so fast (y/n), we have to get you cleaned up first.” Kol says softly kissing your head before getting up. 

All you can manage back is a low groan as he walks into his ensuite bathroom. A minute later he came back in holding a warm damp cloth and began to clean you up. When he finished, he sped downstairs and returned with a cold bottle of water. Getting back into bed he sat you up against him and gave you small sips out of the bottle. 

“You did amazing darling.” He praised while playing with your hair. “You can rest now. I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

“You promise?” you spoke softly relaxing into his body. 

“I give you my word. Now hush and close your eyes.”  

It was so fast you didn't even realize you went to sleep until you woke up a few hours later still in Kols arms. However, you noticed at some point he had picked up the book he had been reading earlier. When he noticed you had woken up, he gently set the book down smiling gently down at you. 

“Well would you look who's awake?” Kol teased. “Are you hungry love? I can go get you something to eat if you’d like?” 

“No, I'm ok but thank you for the offer.” You smile until a somber look crosses your face.  

“What’s going on in that head of yours (y/n)? Kol questions sensing the shift in your mood.  

“It’s nothing, I just was thinking about how I need to leave to go back home soon and not to scare you off but... I don't want to leave you.” You break eye contact, look down and pick at your fingernails, afraid of what he might say. “I know this is just casual I don't mean to-”  

“Don't leave.” Kol cuts you off grabbing your chin to make you look back at him. “I'm sure Caroline would love to have you stay with her for the school year and if not, you could just stay here with me. I have grown quite fond of you (y/n), that is if you’re willing to let our secret out to Caroline and the others.”  

Your eyes widen, not expecting him to feel the same way let alone ask you to stay. 

“My parents would never allow it, and shouldn’t you talk to your family before offering to let me live here?”  

“Your parents won’t be a problem and if they are I have a few tricks that will make them more than happy to let you stay as long as you want. As for my family, they won’t mind. Rebeckah would love another girl around here to hang out with and I could care less what Elijah and Nik think, besides they owe me one after how many daggers they stuck in my chest.” His eyes narrowed as he spoke the last sentence.  

Your heart skips a beat happy to know that Kol wants you just as much as you want him. You can’t respond fast enough excited for the extra time you'll get to spend with him even if that means being a little more involved in this crazy town full of secrets.  

“In that case, I would love to stay as long as you’ll have me.”