#his jaw…somebody sedate me

[humanitys-strongest-brat]

Tonight’s ✨ girl dinner ✨

[sydneyadmu]

in the 4th gif when the camera shifts to jyn you can see cassian’s jaw moving like he’s speaking… I wonder if this is just another perspective from the “you father would be proud of you jyn” shot or if he was saying something else that we will never know. they make me sick

[bitterrfruit]

already FERALLL at this assistant concept more please

omg...... i'm so sorry for this. can you tell i'm ovulating? somebody sedate me please

[he wants a word with you]

Your boss is a prick and a cunthound. You need this job. here's [part 1] for some John POV Executive John Price x EA f!Reader 18+ mdni - 2.5k words - cw: degradation, free use, maybe dubcon?

You follow Mr Price down the stuffy corporate corridor, with your swollen heart in your throat. 

What did you do wrong this time?

Was there an email you failed to send? A meeting you forgot to book? Maybe you saved a document in the wrong place. Maybe you missed one of your many deadlines. 

You watch his besuited back, broad and tall, the billow of his open jacket as he marches ahead of you with long and aggravated strides. The back of his neck burns hot and red, he digs white-knuckled fingers into the angry skin as he rubs it vigorously. 

You pass the incoming traffic of other colleagues, and you see the concern in their glare when they look at Mr Price and then at you. An unspoken apology for your imminent castigation. A silent yikes.

Fuck, he’s going to fire you. Whatever you’ve done must have been catastrophic. Did you cost him profits? Did you humiliate him in front of a client?

“Did I do something wrong?” You anxiously chirp, fearful of being too loud but not wanting him to mishear you over the sheer volume of his fury. 

He doesn’t answer you. 

Instead he comes to a sudden stop, and you almost slam into him with the keen velocity of your pursuit. 

He gestures into the open door on his left, his other hand hooked on his hip under his jacket. 

“I don’t-”

“In,” he grits, lips pursed into an admonishing line, and you do not disobey him. 

With a skip you enter the room, heart thundering in your ears, and he storms in behind you. 

The stationery supply room; cupboards and shelves, full of paper and writing utensils. Atop the counter sits a guillotine cutter, open reams of white A4, a few stray cuttings littered about. On the one bare wall is a hip-height printer, one that most often fails to work. The air is dry and powdery, thick with the clinical scent of fresh paper and ink. 

Mr Price leaves the door ajar, and he wipes down his face with an open and rigid palm. 

“What is wrong with you?” He suddenly blurts, his interrogative glare shoots straight through you. 

His eyes are wide and angry, and you shuffle on your feet, fidget with your fingers. “What did I do?” 

He only steams ahead with his reprimand - closing in on you, heavy step by heavy step, you stagger backwards on instinct. “Slobbering all over that fuckin’ pen. Christ. Are you trying to drive me crazy?” 

Your back hits the wall behind you, it pushes a puff of nervous air from your open lips. Eyes fluttering between his, you choke on any words you think to offer him. 

“I - I don’t - pen? - I didn’t-”

“What more can I do?” He growls, cranes his head to close the distance, “How far away do I have to put you?” 

You suck deep a quivering breath as you blink up at him, his head a foot above yours and his body all but trapping you where you stand. 

“I don’t understand,” you whimper. “What am I doing wrong?”

He huffs like a bull. “You’re fuckin’ killing me, love.” 

You feel your mouth water when he calls you that. It makes your cheeks glow strawberry red. 

“What can - what do you want me to do?” You ask timidly, sweetly - you want so desperately to please him. You can’t lose this job. You can’t have him disappointed in you. 

He rubs his jaw with a straining hand, his murky eyes rake from your lips and linger on the faintest bit of cleavage in the collar of your button down. 

“I want you to turn around.”

His order is uttered dark and hoarse, so low that you feel the vibrations of his voice from where you stand. 

Your lips part gently, bottom lip trembling as you swallow under his heated glower. 

But you do as you’re told. You’re a good listener, you can show him that.  You spin around awkwardly in the tight space between his heaving body and the wall, until you’re met with the cold white drywall against your nose. 

You hear his breathing turn ragged and animal, almost growling, it makes you sweat. You lift your arms cautiously, placing both palms flat on the wall, and stand on the very tips of your toes. 

His hands are on you, then, hasty bear claws comb over your ass and clutch the meat of your hips like you might slither away from him. He tugs you backwards and you rock on your toes, arch your back to meet his pelvis with your behind. 

You feel it, hard as iron and heavy as tungsten behind his straining trousers; he grinds his rigid cock against you, warning you with it, letting you feel the weight of it. He hunches forward, you feel his wiry beard against your cheek and his warm lips against your ear. 

“You proud o’ yourself?” He snarls, a bestial gurgle deep in his chest. “Proud of what you do to me?” 

Your heart buzzes with such speed that it makes you dizzy, turns you stupid. 

“I’m - uh - I’m not-”

You want to smack yourself for your inability to form a single sentence, a single word, as you feel his harsh fingers claw up the back of your thigh, catching in the sheer black nylon that clings to your feverish skin. 

“Nothing to say for yourself?” He gnars into your skin, you feel his teeth as he speaks. “‘Course not. You’re a fuckin’ airhead, aren’t you?” 

His wide paw reaches the hem of your pencil skirt, the fabric too taut to be pulled up with ease - so he clutches the back of it with both hands, grips either side of the stiff kick pleat. 

You yelp as you feel him rip your skirt apart by the seam, the tear of the fabric shrill and ear-splitting. Your head urgently spins on your neck as you shoot a glance at the open door - muted voices of others in the office travel through the gap, blissfully unaware of your indiscretion. 

“Someone might-”

Bitten off by a gasp, his angry fists grasp at your stockings where they meet at a seam that runs down the cleft of your ass. He rips that, too, hurried and ravenous; he stretches a wide hole in the thin nylon that runs in a ladder between your legs. 

“Someone might come in.” You finally find the words, moan them out in a hasty breath like he might cut you off before you can warn him. 

He hisses; “I don’t care.”

His hand forms a blade, slicing between your legs and hooking under the gusset of your knickers; you hold your breath, sucking your lip between your teeth and biting down hard enough to draw blood. His thick fingers run along your slit, goading and mean, triggering a pathetic little whimper from your throat when you don’t have the words to plead. 

They push past your lips, dipping between your sodden folds like he’s checking the temperature before venturing any deeper. You feel him grin against your neck, beard abrasive against your sensitive skin, as he lets out a low, cruel chuff of laughter. 

“Fu-hu-huck,” he chortles, mocking, and you only let out a stifled cry as he coaxes your opening with the tips of greedy fingers. “Like being told off, do you?” 

He kisses the side of your neck in a hungry and messy suck, shivering gooseflesh crawls from his bite and down your spine. He plays with your syrup between his fingers, marvelling at the quantity, the slipperiness. 

You squeak as a single finger presses against the ring of muscle at your entrance, and pushes past it - he hooks it, drags it against your slick inner wall with a pressure that makes you grind against his hand to force it further. 

“Answer me.” 

You whine in complaint before you reply as instructed. “Yes,” you croon, writhing and eager.

He obliges you and stuffs his finger deeper, two knuckles deep, and his palm is flush with your cunt.

“Mh. You do. Fuckin’ soaked, aren’t you?” He hums deeply, hoarsely, pleased. 

He pulls his finger out of you, then, and you groan in frustrated defeat. 

“Don’t fuss, love,” he grumbles. “You’ll get your fill.” 

With your head over your shoulder, you watch in your periphery as he smears his glistening fingers down his lips, under his nose - sticks them in his mouth and sucks them clean like he might savour the taste. 

“Mh,” he rasps, grins, letting the scent and flavour of your cunt fill his mouth and sinuses until it turns his shark eyes black and hungry. “Fuckin’ good.” 

You hear the leathery clinking of his belt buckle as he undoes it, the strident rip of his fly as he tears it down. A shuffle, a grunt, and his heavy cock lands against your lower back with a thump. 

You gasp, turn rigid - he runs a firm hand down your spine, rests it in the dip of your back, pushes a deeper curve in the arch. Grasps your hip and yanks it back, rams your body against his, angles your pelvis just right. 

He grabs his cock in a fist, smacks its solid against your ass like it’s a burden. 

Holds his fingers to his lips and hucks up a lump of spit, crude and dirty, you feel him smear it against your cunt as pulls your panties to the side. 

He gives no warning as he feeds his length through the hole he tore in your stockings, slides the blunt and fleshy head along your slit to coat it in the amalgam of fluids that drip from you. His tip finds its sheath, nestling between your folds and rutting against your tight opening as if to taunt you. 

With a hoarse growl he bucks his hips, his cock breaks through your entrance and rams deep into your cunt with a single thrust. It forces a wet and mewling cry from your throat, forgetting that the door to the room is open and freely accessible to anybody you work with. 

“Shh-sh-sh,” he hisses, he undoes his tie with a single hand as the other keeps your hips tight against him. 

He ruts again, somehow deeper still, and you let out a sore yelp - but he shuts you up, stifles your crying as he packs his steel-blue tie into your open mouth. Stuffs the silk fabric behind your teeth until no more will fit, and your saccharine noises are dampened into muffled whimpers. 

“Tha’s better. Fuck,” he curses through teeth. “Can barely fuckin’ fit in that little cunt of yours.”

His hand holds your throat, then, and the other controls your hip with vicious strength - and he fucks you in earnest. Fucks you hard and hostile, the round head of his cock hammers your aching cervix as if he could fuck past it. Fucks you like he’s angry, like he has been eagerly waiting for each forceful thrust - pent up since he met you, fuel only added to the flame every day that you came to work. 

The tie in your mouth is sopping wet with your keening saliva, your eyes well with tears of some twisted rapture - you want to tell him it hurts, but not to tell him to stop. 

“You take it good, don’t you? Found one fuckin’ thing you’re good at, eh?”

You whimper. You like him mean, don’t you? You like him angry. 

You spilled that tea on purpose. You deliberately missed that deadline. You talk loudly because you know it frustrates him. You suckle on that pen because you know he wishes it were his cock. 

His heavy hand clutches your wrist and pins it to the wall in front of you, and you feel light on your feet. The hole in your stockings only tears bigger with each thrust, you can hear the fabric of your pinstripe skirt rip further up the back; likewise, your cunt stretches to fit him to the hilt, the delicate skin threatening to tear as he splits you open. 

With a final rut, pounding hard into your womb, he bites down on the tendinous flesh of your neck and growls into your skin, chuffs out of his nose like a grizzly; “Fuck.”

You feel his cock twitch and surge as he pumps his come deep into you, it overflows - it dribbles down the cleft of your cunt, down your thighs, soaks into the sheer polyester of your stockings. Didn’t think, or didn’t bother to ask if you were on birth control - it doesn’t matter to him. Your cunt is as much his as your livelihood, and he’ll fill it with his come if he pleases. 

He leans his weight against you as he recharges, panting and spent, he rests his forehead against the back of your head. 

“Mh,” he huffs, “fuckin’ needed that.” 

You exhale all the air you had been holding in a breathy whine, cunt still aching and fluttering around the cock stuffed inside it, clit swollen and eager for any ounce of attention. He pays it none - only came to take, no time or interest in giving. 

He pulls his tie out of your mouth in one long rope, it drags a string of glistening saliva with it. 

“I’m-” you breathe furtively, mouth free, “I’m glad I could help.”

He pants out a laugh, deep and gravelly, places a drained kiss into your hair. 

“Help you did,” he assures you, amused and sated. “Next time I want to see all of you. Hear me?” 

“Next time?” You ask timidly. 

He pulls his cock out of you, and the spate of hot come he plugged inside comes out in a gush and soaks your already damp knickers. 

“Aye,” he grunts, tucking his semi-hard cock back into his boxers, insouciantly doing up his belt. “You’d like that, eh?”

You swallow a weary breath, push yourself from the wall and try to shimmy down what’s left of your skirt to conceal the mess he made underneath. 

“I - um,” you hesitate, embarrassed, you tuck a piece of hair that had been fucked astray behind your ear. “I would.” 

A devilish grin stretches in his lips, sharp teeth, as he loops his wet tie under his collar and does it up neatly - as neatly as he can, while it’s covered in the damp splotches of your spit. 

“‘Atta girl.” With a domineering hand he grabs your jaw, tugs your head upward and meets your lips with a single hard kiss. Smiles at you with praise. “Knew you were a slut.”

“I’m n-”

“Head home for the day, will you, love,” he orders rakishly, smoothing out his pale blue button down. “Important meeting. Can’t have any more distractions. Understood?” 

“Yes,” you comply with a simple nod. 

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Mr Price.”

“Tha’s my girl.”

[decaydanceredacted]

Touch starved lighthouse Joe being hesitant and almost nervous to make a move on you so he just keeps staring at you with those big beautiful eyes before finally slowly inching his face toward yours and FINALLY kissing you, and once that barrier is broken he goes from gentle and apprehensive to gripping your jaw and arms and body anywhere his hands end up, needy and desperate, breathing heavily and moaning into your mouth. Somebody sedate me

.

[thetrashbinseries]

— To Feel Alive ( mingi x reader )

rated - mature | minors dni

warnings - non-idol universe, descriptions of suicide, mentions of murder (hypothetically), smoking is bad for u, drabble

summary - “let’s say I kill somebody and it doesn’t work…”

wc: <1000

x x x

“You said I can ask you anything?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Okay, so,” he takes a drag of his cigarette, a thick, swirled tail of smoke snakes up his jaw from the burning stick of nicotine and tobacco. While it continues its ascent out of the open moonroof of the car towards the stars, the exhale that leaves his thick pink lips disperses any remaining visualizations you could create. You were entranced by him, drawn into depths of emotion you hadn't known before. He's shown you what it’s like to have a partner, not only for romance but for life.

Congratulations, you’re in love with your best friend.

Time seems to warp in your mind as you gaze up at the stars. The car engine still hums softly, barely audible, and the music, once a companion, now a distant echo, having been turned down minutes ago once the conversation delved deeper.

His hands sculpt the air in front of him as he continues, “Let’s say I hypothetically kill somebody, but it doesn’t work—“

“How doesn’t it work? They a zombie or something?”

He takes another drag, still staring ahead. “Zombie,” he chuckles under his breath, faint, brief. “No, let’s say it wasn’t supposed to even happen. It was messy, impulsive, it didn’t go how you knew it was supposed to go, and the person isn’t dead, just injured, bad and—now you have a body tied up that you gotta get rid of in an abandoned shed”

Eyes, deep wells of brown, seem to pierce through you as he finally looks away from the stars and at you. He's wearing an inscrutable expression, which oddly brings you comfort. You despise how your mind instinctively analyzes emotions, disrupting the moment. But with Mingi, it's different. Looking into his eyes is...peaceful.

“What would you do?” he asks, the cigarette burning close to the filter, only a couple of puffs away from self-extinguishing. “Hypothetically speaking.”

Strange as Mingi is, this was a little unusual of him to be asking you. His mind wanders paths few tread, encouraging your abstract thinking, finding it alluring.

You reach out and take the cigarette from between his slender fingers, taking the final puff for yourself before extinguishing it in an empty beer can in the cupholder with a soft hiss.

“How do you hypothetically want to kill them?”

“Hm,” Mingi's head turns back to the stars, which are now disappearing behind thick clouds rolling in across the midnight sky. “None of that matters anymore, I just want the body gone, and dead,” he inhales deeply,

You anticipate his unspoken thoughts, as you often do. “Hypothetically.”

“Yeah.” A small laugh punctuates his response.

Unusual as it is for Mingi to ask such a question, you humor him, sitting in thought for a few moments.

“I don’t want the law involved, and I’m not a—serial killer so I don’t know how to dispose of a body. So if it were me, hypothetically,” you emphasize mockingly, understanding each other implicitly. “I would make it look like a suicide, but not with a gun or knife or anything, I don’t know anything about how the investigators figure out whatever angle someone offs themselves.” Your eyes narrow as you ponder, tapping your lips gently with a curled fist. “I’ve watched a lot of crime tv shows.”

“If I could sedate them, again, without making it obvious, I could stage…a hanging,” as you continue, you've captured his attention, his gaze lowering from the stars back to you. “Sounds simple enough right? Hang up the body, kick out the chair from underneath, let it drop. Sedate them enough, and you won’t have to watch the struggle.”

simple enough right?

not only simple, but better than anything his disorganized mind would’ve thought of under the pressure.

“The human body always finds a way to fight back in those final minutes, seconds...it’s the urge to live…” His voice softens a little, but he doesn’t seem to care about how it comes off. You watch him pull out his pack of bad habits, and he brings another one between those rosy lips, sparking a lighter you hadn’t even noticed him holding, the smell permeating the air the moment the flames catch.

He reads your mind this time, tilting the temptation your way. And you’re not really a smoker, but when you spend nights with Mingi drinking beer under the stars, you’ll succumb to the moment a time or two.

This is moment two for you, tonight.  You pluck one out, and he sparks his lighter, holding it at eye level with you. You lean forward, taking a drag. Mingi’s cigarettes taste different, unfamiliar packaging in a foreign language. It's smooth, enticingly addictive.

Breaking the silence, you ask, “Min, what’s up? Why you ask me that anyway?” You relax back against the driver’s door. He tucks his cigarettes into his pocket and reclines his seat, looking more at ease somehow.

Your answer gave him hope in being understood and accepted by another human one day, something he’s not used to feeling.

“Because you’ve got a beautiful mind,” Mingi says, almost to himself, hands behind his head, eyes falling on you once again,

“And there’s nothing hypothetical about that.”

[moons-cozy-corner]

Rescued Pt.3

Sorry this took so long lovelies! Life has been busy lately, soo regular posting has been a bit rough. Hope y'all like reading this as much as I liked writing it ^^

tw: restraints, hospital setting, overstimulation, implied past abuse, needles, attempted murder

*Pet and Villain are the same character, it is not an editing mistake I swear*

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

It'd been about four days since Pet was snatched from home. Most of that time was spent in the hospital, in this very bed. Being cuffed down to the frame was annoying. Any time he had to do anything a nurse would have to assist him with supervision from an officer. Bathroom, eating, walking. It wasn't like he had many privileges that required moving to begin with, but walking was (according to the nurses) to ensure his full recovery.

Nothing was wrong with him as far as he was concerned. The scars were signs of his past mistakes and lessons learned. In a way they were a sense of pride. That was what Master had told him. That the scars were marks of their love for Pet.

Hero hadn't visited yesterday. That fact should not have bothered Pet as much as it seemed to. Master never would have let Pet feel these difficult feelings. Master would have kept him safe from any dangerous thoughts.

But it wasn't that easy to just hate the hero. There was something in Pet's head just beyond reach. It tugged at him this way and that. It was the reason he stupidly opened his eyes the other day. The reason he cried when Hero turned and left.

And now Hero hadn't come back.

It was his fault anyways for scaring him off. Refusing to talk or move after someone risked their life for you tends to put people on edge.

But- but he hadn't saved Villains life. Pet's life. No, he'd ruined it. The stupid hero had stolen him, and that was all there was to it.

Right?

Someone knocked on the doorframe. Pet turned away, reclosing his teary eyes. "Oh don't be a coward, Villain. Face your death with some dignity, hm?" Superhero again. She walked closer, the same clickity-clack of her heels against the linoleum ringing through his ears. "Nobody cares about you," she whispered all up and close to his ear. The tears were seeping through his lids. Superhero huffed a single laugh as she grabbed his IV. This what it then. She was going to inject him with something that would drain him of his useless life. Pet was only supposed to die by Master's hand. But in the back of his head, where Villain still resided, he didn't want to die at all. He wanted to live.

Help. It was a small thought at first though it grew rapidly. Help. Help me. Please. "Help!" Villain yelled, pulling roughly against the handcuffs holding him down to the bed. "Somebody help me, please! Master!" Hero...

Superhero cursed under her breath, quickly injecting the liquid into the IV before holding Villain down, flaming eyes boring into his own.

"Superhero! What's going on in here?" A couple nurses rushed in surrounding Villain and Superhero. It was difficult to get a word out while hyperventilating, so Superhero stole the light.

"He's trying to attack me, he needs sedated or something!" He clenched his jaw.

Villain would not die like this. Not to this woman. Not without seeing his Master again. Not without seeing Hero one last time. "H-help me please! She drugged- she drugged me! Pl-please believe me I don't- I can't die. Please. Please. Please." The nurses blurred into the walls as they surrounded him. Closer and closer they got. At some point Superhero had melted into the crowd, letting the nurses poke and prod at him, shining lights in his eyes.

Soon, even the brightest of their pocket lights weren't enough to penetrate the black that invaded his vision. "Hero... please..."

"Villain..." The voice lifted him through the darkness. It was a floating sensation, but not that of laying on a cloud or sifting through water. It felt as if he was buried in mud and someone was pulling him in all directions. "Oh god, please wake up. Villain, please."

His eyes fluttered open for a second, but the lights hurt. Hero gasped. "Villain, I'm here, I'm right here." Someone grabbed his hand softly. "If you hear me can you squeeze my hand?" Villain did. Villain squeezed it so tightly as he cried and gasped for air. "Shhh, shhh, Villain. I'm right here. Deep breaths." Hero's soft lips found Villain's head. Cool lips against feverish skin.

Every breath came out wrong. Or went in wrong? It was all wrong. Villain was wheezing and coughing in an attempt to get air into their lungs. His throat hurt. It burned. Hero held his hand, rubbing circles into the back of it with his thumb. Something pierced his neck, only for a second, but with Hero there it felt like nothing. Slowly Villains' breathing calmed to a slow rasping. Breathing deeply was not working. If anything, it was making his chest hurt worse.

"...so- sorry," Villain tried. He was barely able to breathe, let alone talk. Hero just held his hand tighter, allowing Villain to soak the warmth into his own skin.

"You've nothing to be sorry for, love." With his other hand Hero combed through Villains hair. "All you need to worry about is healing."

He nodded, leaning his head into the other's hand. His eyes were closed, but this time it wasn't because of some voice inside his head. The hero massaging sore muscles and rubbing circles along his skin was heaven that the Villain had no memory of ever have experiencing before. It was... nice. And nice was something that Villain had not felt in a long, long time.

As tears fell down his cheeks, Hero wiped them away. At each whimper, a hand squeeze. The feeling of gentle hands on his skin was foreign and familiar, and while Pet knew he should pull away and fight, Villain knew he was in the right place.

It was cute. Really. Real touching, to see Hero and Pet getting along so well after only a couple of days.

Whumper would simply have to fix that.

It would be two approximately days before their pet would be sent home with Hero. It would have been sooner had Superhero not messed with things. She'd always been so head strong and stubborn. If she tried something again, Whumper may just have to show her the dire consequences or meddling with things she shouldn't.

Either way, Whumper had Pet in their sights again. That was all that mattered. Nobody really knew what Whumper looked like, but it was still a good idea to change up their appearance and go into hiding. It may be as a nurse today, helping their beloved Pet heal from the poison Superhero had given him. Tomorrow, who knew.

See you soon, Pet.

Part 4

tag-list:

@alwaysalilhigh @nicolepascaline @whumped-inc @littlespacecastle @hollowgast1 @edkore @ramadiiiisme @writereleaserepeat @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @pleasegodno31375 @subval01 @bleeding-letters @whumpkinz @aswallowimprisoned @nicolepascaline @vermillion-emerald

[sukunaspinkyfinger]

ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴀᴅᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ - ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪɪ - ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴀʟʟ ɪ ɢᴏᴛ

ꜱᴏɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ: ᴄʜɪᴘᴘɪɴ' ɪɴ - ᴋᴇʀʀʏ ᴇᴜʀᴏᴅʏɴᴇ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ: ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ, ꜰɪʀᴇᴀʀᴍꜱ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʙɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ

ᴀ/ɴ: ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴀꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀꜱ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴛ 𓆩♡𓆪 ɪ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴏꜱᴛꜱ, ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜰᴜɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ! 𓆩♡𓆪

Satoru falls to the ground and helplessly cries out as the teenage boy quickly sedates him in the metal chair allowing Shoko to swiftly tie his hands behind his back. Fresh blood drips on his high-end blouse due to the sudden injury I inflicted on his nose.

"What in the fuck?" he cries out once again as his signature shades land on the cold ground. "P-please don't kill me! I have money!"

I let out a small chuckle and take a long drag of the freshly lit cigarette as my cold hands grab the back of his chair to ultimately make him face me, still, his eyes remain closed. Aside from Satoru's whimpering, only Yuji's bouncing right leg and the clacking sound of my heels echo among the clinic's cold concrete walls as I waltz closer to him until my mouth is only a couple of inches away from his ear.

"Hm, so you do have money, huh?" The moment my exhausted, raspy voice reaches the back of his brain, Satoru shudders from the cool shiver that coats his spine, which causes him to slowly open his bright blue orbs. The man strapped to the chair evidently recognizes me guessing from the relieved sigh that leaves his lungs.

"You could've told me you were this desperate for eddies, N." He laughs mockingly as the familiar, shit-eating grin begins to form on his handsome lips.

"I just think I deserve my money on time, since, y'know, Shoko almost had to amputate my right arm because somebody forgot to mention that the stolen cargo from last week belonged to a corpo-bastard with security flowing out of his balls." My stiff hand grazes his bloody cheek as I give him a half-assed slap. "That's not why you're here for, though."

Yuji swiftly flicks the cigarette in the ashtray as he jumps up from his seat and takes place beside me. "Hey, choom. Remember me?"

Satoru scans the boy left and right, up and down before he finally opens his mouth. "Sukuna's errand boy. What's he doing here?"

"The shard you gave him. Where is it from?" Shoko asks impatiently as she stands up with the help of her walking cane and approaches Satoru to untie him. He winces from the pain as he massages his wrists like some kind of drama queen. The man's expression suddenly turns hungry.

"Ahh, one of my dear clients gave it to me as a thank-you gift for getting their choomba a gig. Why? Did you manage to impress your boss?" Yuji's visibly embarrassed as Satoru recounts his somewhat cute but childish goal. The man's face turns sour the moment he realizes. "Ugh, I'm guessing that's not what happened."

"Wow, you're one lucky asshole, Satoru. News flash, the thing with the Militech equipment? Fake, though whoever gave you the shard did intend to gift you with a fat, brain-frying, location-tracking malware that unfortunately got Yuji's brother kidnapped. That's just my theory, anyway."

"I can't believe it...", his jaw drops on the floor, "Fucking scavs, man!"

Satoru paces back and forth as he cleans his face with a wet wipe, he runs his hand through his white strands as he thinks. Finally, his expression lights up.

"Okay, I might know where your bro is, choom, listen. The gonk that gave me the shard, right? One of my clients needed to retrieve something from a doll that robbed him, so I entrusted this chick's man - the one that gave me the shard - to get it back. It was a high-value item, so I sent one of my guys to pick it up, personally. I'm sending you the address, N."

I desperately try to mask how impressed I am with Satoru's intel. He might be Night City's silliest, most unreliable fixer and - it's not just me, his reputation exceeds him -, but somehow this man always proves to come in clutch. 

"Wow, choom..." I mumble as I take out my phone and scoot over to Yuji. "This is good info, thanks a lot."

Yuji looks too excited for me to not open the text message right away, which as Satoru promised, reveals a detailed address. Megabuilding H10, Apartment 657, Northside.

"Don't mention it, but as compensation, I'm giving your eddies to Shoko." Satoru makes his way to the exit as he bids farewell with a lazy wave. "I'll be back in a few hours, you can fix my nose up. That cool?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. We should let Shoko rest. Yuji!" My tired voice calls for the boy, still sitting in his chair, clearly on edge as I pick up my hoodie and car keys. "We riding?"

The boy instantly says bye to Shoko, - who's about to fall off her chair due to the exhaustion-, as he sprints towards the gate without even waiting for me.

"Don't you dare flatline, you reckless idiot" The frail woman whispers as I help her lay down on the spare bed she keeps for long shifts. 

"Yeah, good night, doc."

Due to the grim, dark setting of Shoko's clinic I almost can't believe the sun's already been up a couple of hours as I approach Yuji, who's impatiently leaning on the car's dusty trunk.

"Listen, kid, this is a 15 minute drive so I gotta set the record straight before we get going. I'm not even gonna try to convince you to stay in the car, so listen carefully." I stop for a second to offer him a cigarette, then squat down in front of him. "Northside's Maelstrom territory, however, Satoru said the guys that possibly have your brother are just a bunch of Scavengers. That doesn't mean it's gonna go smoothly, 'kay?"

"Ye, ye, I get it choom, 'm just really nervous, y'know? My brother, h-he's all I got, well, besides my gramps, but he lives on the city outskirts and doesn't know the kind of jobs we do. He thinks I still go to the Academy and Choso is some kinda suit, but that's obviously not the case."

"Yeah, I understand." I wish I didn't need to say these next words out loud to him. "That's why I gotta be honest, Yuji. There's a slim chance Choso's still, y'know...He might not even be there."

"U-um, y-yea, I know..." He stops mid sentence to brush his tears away. "But I'm not giving up until we find him! Even if he's...g-gone, fuck, he needs to be brought home, t-to his family. It's the least I can do for him."

My heart genuinely breaks as I observe this teary-eyed, minor who's only objective is to get his brother back, safe and sound. He reminds me of my old self, I couldn't have been much older when I found out about Utahime and that she might never recover from that state. That's why I'm going to do everything in my power to help him.

"Yeah, I agree. That's why I'll help you out 'til the end. Hop in."

As the key lands in the ignition, the car responds with a familiar roar and begins to play the newest album of Kerry Eurodyne through the radio. I proceed to make up a somewhat reliable plan with Yuji as we get nearer to our destination, we agree on taking things slow and silent. No bloodshed, if possible. We go in, grab Choso if he's there and leave quietly.

"Here we are, Megabuilding H10. Completely abandoned due to the earthquake damages and the lack of financial investment. Well, not completely, Maelstrom, Scavs, homeless...you name it. You ready to rock?"

Yuji firmly nods as he clicks the safety off on his shiny pistol, just in case. As we begin to walk towards the entrance, I suddenly feel the looming shadow of uneasiness in the back of my head. Sure, the building looks like shit and there are a couple of gonks around, but somehow it's way too quiet for my liking.

We both try to ignore the hungry gazes that feel like sharp knives, grazing and slashing the skin of our backs. The building reeks of urine and stale alcohol, I can barely make out the graffiti decorating the crumbling concrete walls as the darkness swallows everything whole. Glassy orbs from murky rooms follow every breath of ours as we approach our destination, Apartment 657. The boy's sweaty palms tremble around his iron the moment I decide to push open the creaky door, as quietly as possible.

My empty stomach churns the second the door flings open and reveals the putrid smell of active decomposition. My heart shatters once again as I observe the boy, desperately trying to make out the faces of the dismembered corpses in the cold, dim room, hoping none of them resemble his brother.

"Let's keep going, I take left, you take right." He whispers with an unfamiliar, cold expression on his face. 

"Hey!" I quickly grab one of his arms before he could escape. "Don't be a gonk, that's not what we agreed on."

"Fuck, N, I need to know, okay?" he whispers and let's out an apologetic sigh before he takes off in the direction of what seems to be the living room. "Sorry."

I sigh, understandably annoyed as I take out my iron and begin to move through the dim corridor. I notice a shut door, no sounds but there's plenty of lights coming through the small crack from under it and I stubbornly shift my focus on it instead of Yuji. I pray he doesn't flatline because of his stupid decision.

As I push open the door of a moderately sized bathroom, my eyes take a moment to adjust to the cold, strong lights on the ceiling. The first thing I notice, of course, is the piling up bodies in the bathtub, some on the floor. The only difference between these and the ones on the table is, that the gonks in here seem to be untouched, besides the stolen cyberware and clothes. I decide to briefly scan the room, hoping to find Choso as the sound of three, perhaps four gun shots cut through the stiff, cold air.

bam-bam, bam, bam

I feel the blood drain from my face as prepare myself for the worst and sprint to the area where the shots came from. I grip my gun with my stiff, cold fingers fearing it would slip through my sweaty palms, take a deep breath and step into the big room. It's dirty-white tile floors are tainted with blood from the new and old corpses. My trembling legs stop by themselves in the doorway and I struggle to hold my aim at the only standing persons head in the room.

"They're never going to hurt another soul."

He drops his iron on the floor, which lands followed by a sharp cling. I hesitantly take my finger off the trigger upon hearing Yuji's quiet voice, his back is turned to me and he just keeps looming over the dead Scavengers as I approach him, sort of relieved. His young features seem calm, though expressionless as he finally looks at me. 

"I-I killed them all." he explains meekly as I search for signs of any injuries. "Sorry, I didn't really stick to the plan, did I?"

"Hardly." A sighs escapes through my lips, still shocked due to the recent event unfolding. "Bastards deserved it, regardless. You're still a gonk for almost getting yourself killed, you know."

Yuji plops on the sofa, collecting himself as I share my findings about the bathroom that I didn't get to investigate due to the sudden shooting he initiated outside. He insists on taking a look and I decide to watch him from the doorway as he begins removing the piled-up bodies with a scarred expression from the icy bathtub. 

My eyelids fall as they start to feel exceptionally heavy from the exhaustion, thus the alcohol in my system and me being awake for almost 24 hours. 

Suddenly, a terrible cry erupts from the boy's throat.

[nemesyaaa]

TIIIME TO READ THIS LDZOOEOZKE

OMGGG THE MASSIVE CRUSH IVE HAD WHILE READING THIS IS CRAZY, LIKE WTF BUNNY. YOU THINK IT'S LEGAL TO PUT THAT WONDERFUL SMUT ON TUMBLR, MAKE ALL THE READERS HORNIES AND INSANES ?? THIS WAS SO HOT. NO BC THIS BRAT!READER, AND THIS POSSESSIVE!RAFE, YALL I CAN'T TAKE IT, I REPEAT, I CANT TAKE IT

KDKZKDKE THIS WAS A MASTERPIECE. WHY SO UNDERRATED ??? WE SHOULD BE AT THE AUTHOR'S KNEES

me everytime you post something (lord have mercy)

““Yeah? If I don’t own you then why is your fuckin’ pussy suckin’ me in like a vice grip every time I slap you across your pretty little face then, huh? Looks like she knows who she belongs to.” Rafe pulls out until only his tip is still inside you before slamming back into you with breathtaking force. “Say it.” » let.me shoot myself, this is so good, need an emergency

“ “You sure about that?” He pushes himself up on his knees, his thrusts falter for a mere moment before he’s fucking you rougher and deeper than before. “Cause I’m pretty sure I’ve told you multiple times nobody grips my dick like this tight, wet cunt. What if I said I fuckin’ think about you every time, huh?” » need a part2, need to breathe again

«“Oh god, fuck! Daddy, I’m - fuck - I’m gonna fuckin’ cum.” Your words are slurred from pleasure and his large fingers still occupying your mouth, drool drips down your down and you’re so wet that your juices are coating both of your thighs. You feel white hot pleasure shoot through you as your orgasm washes over you, making you practically see stars. » THIS PARAGRAPH 🤯🤯🥵🥵🥵‼️

« “Say it, Rafe, tell me your cock is mine and I’ll let you fill my pussy deep with your cum. Say it or I’ll stop.” It’s your turn to grab onto his jaw as you bounce on his cock like a little fucking bunny rabbit, with a fire in your eyes he’s never seen before. He swears he could bust right fucking now. “I can tell you’re about to cum. Tell me who owns this cock, now.” »

somebody need to sedate me, bc I'M NOT normal after this

Say It

(Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Summary: You and Rafe both want to make your relationship official, but neither of you want to say it out loud. WK: 1.2k

Warnings: Unprotected sex, choking, possessiveness, jealously, face slapping, daddy kink, breeding kink, degradation, switch!Rafe & Switch!Reader 18+MNDI!!

“Fuckin’ say it.” One of Rafe’s large hands has your chin pinched between his thumb and pointer finger while the other is buried in your hair, tugging on it to force you to look into his eyes. His face is inches from yours, blue eyes almost black from how wide his pupils are blown out, the look in them feral. He’s got you on your back with your knees hiked over his shoulders while he plunges his dick deep into your wet cunt, over and over again. When you don’t respond he lets out a low growl, releasing his grip on your chin to slap you across the face. “I said tell me who owns this fuckin’ pussy, slut.”

“Not you.” You smirk at him as you let the words slip from your mouth matter of factly. You let out a scoff that turns into a moan when he slaps you again.

“Yeah? If I don’t own you then why is your fuckin’ pussy suckin’ me in like a vice grip every time I slap you across your pretty little face then, huh? Looks like she knows who she belongs to.” Rafe pulls out until only his tip is still inside you before slamming back into you with breathtaking force. “Say it.”

“Fuck.” Your eyes roll back and a loud moan rips through you, much to your chagrin. You hate that even when Rafe was pissing you off he still fucks you so good it make your head spin. “You didn’t seem so concerned about my pussy when you were balls deep in some other bitch two days ago.”

“You sure about that?” He pushes himself up on his knees, his thrusts falter for a mere moment before he’s fucking you rougher and deeper than before. “Cause I’m pretty sure I’ve told you multiple times nobody grips my dick like this tight, wet cunt. What if I said I fuckin’ think about you every time, huh?”

“Oh fuuuckkingshit - don’t bull - shit - don’t bullshit me, you probably say that to all of your hoes.” He pulls out to the tip before slamming his hips against yours again, repeating the action over and over again, the sound of your hips smacking together and the squelching of your pussy filling the room.

“God, shut the fuck up, aight? ‘My pussy belongs to you daddy’ are the only words I wanna hear come out of that pretty little mouth.” He grips onto your chin again, squeezing your cheeks together so hard it almost hurts as he shakes your head slowly side to side. He pushes his hips flush against yours, stopping his thrusts all together. “Say it and I’ll make you cum on my cock.”

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up and just make me cum? It’s not that deep -“ you feel him start to pull out of you and you can tell by the smirk on his face that he’s going to stop fucking you if you don’t just tell him aloud what you both already know is true. “Ugh! Fine!”

“Fine what, huh?” Rafe leans down so his face is inches from yours that is still grasped tightly in his hand as he rolls his hips against you. It sends your eyes rolling in the back of your head but he’s not having any of that. He taps your cheek roughly with his free hand until your eyes meet his again. “Fuckin’ look at me. Whose fuckin’ pussy is this?”

“It’s yours, okay!? It’s yours, daddy! Now please just fuck me I’m -“ your words are cut short when Rafe pushes him self up, throwing your legs back over his shoulders before he continues to fuck you with in an inch of your life. “Oh fuuuuck.”

“Yeah, that’s right, this daddy’s fuckin’ pussy, you’re fuckin’ mine.” Rafe growls as he brings his hand up to your mouth, shoving it between your lips before hooking two fingers on the inside of your teeth. He tilts his head down to let a glob of spit drop from his tongue onto your already slippery bud. His free thumb snakes between you to rub quick circles on it and it has you clenching around him.

“Oh god, fuck! Daddy, I’m - fuck - I’m gonna fuckin’ cum.” Your words are slurred from pleasure and his large fingers still occupying your mouth, drool drips down your down and you’re so wet that your juices are coating both of your thighs. You feel white hot pleasure shoot through you as your orgasm washes over you, making you practically see stars.

“Good fuckin’ girl. Cum for me, fuckin’ give it to me. Cream all over my cock baby.” He fucks you through it and once you feel yourself start to come down you hook your legs around him and use what little strength you have left to flip him onto his back with you strandling him.

“Now, whose fucking dick is this then? Since you wanna be all cocky.” You smirk down at him grabbing onto his shaft that just barely slipped out of you, you run his head through your folds before slamming down on his cock. You don’t give him a second to think before you’re riding him hard and fast. Your tits bouncing deliciously above him.

“Goddamn baby, you’re so fuckin’ fine, shit.” Rafe’s hands grip onto your ass for purchase as he leans back and lets you take him for all he’s worth. Your pointed nails are digging into his chest so deeply that he feels like you might break the skin but god does it feel good. He feels himself start to get lost in pleasure before he’s snapped out of it by your hand landing a harsh smack on his cheek. “Fuck.”

“Say it, Rafe, tell me your cock is mine and I’ll let you fill my pussy deep with your cum. Say it or I’ll stop.” It’s your turn to grab onto his jaw as you bounce on his cock like a little fucking bunny rabbit, with a fire in your eyes he’s never seen before. He swears he could bust right fucking now. “I can tell you’re about to cum. Tell me who owns this cock, now.”

“Fuck, baby, you. You’ve always had me, aight?”

“That’s what I fucking thought.” You give him a Cheshire smile before leaning back to rest your hands on his thighs giving him a perfect view of your pussy swallowing his cock whole over and over again. “You wanna fill me up, daddy? Breed my little pussy? Go ahead. It’s yours after all.”

“Oh fuckinshit - fuck, you’re such a good fuckin’ girl, bouncing on my cock so good. I’m gonna fuck this god damn pussy full. Knock you up so everyone really knows who owns this fuckin’ cock.” He’s drunk on your pussy by the time you feel his cock start to twitch before you feel him start to spill inside of you. That combined with his filthy words has you cumming right along with him. Once you both come down from your highs your body falls limp against his as you both pant, trying to catch your breath.

“You’re a fuckin’ brat, you know that?” Rafe chuckles as he lets his fingertips mindlessly caress the skin of your back.

“Yeah? And you’re kind of a fuckin’ dick.” You snort, resting your chin on his chest so you can glance up at him.

“Yeah? I’m your dick though.” You both start busting up laughing at that before you’re tilting your head enough to latch your lips onto his in probably the most tender kiss the two of you have shared.

“And I guess, I’m you’re brat.”

Divider is by @strangergraphics

[riosnecktattoo]

Gang friend. Christopher. Mr. Neck Tats. Bounce House Guy. Daddy. Boss. Ron. Mr. CFO. Inner City Gangbanger. A friend. Serial Killer. Marcus’s Dad. Homie. Your boy. Bitch. Extortionist. Chief. Throat Tats. Sir. Business Partner. Genie. Mr. Kowalski. Criminal. Baby Daddy. Lover. Psychopath. King.

              Rio. His name’s Rio.

[rogue-durin-16]

This is a fun idea that I’ve had rolling in my head for a while, but you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to! What if the reader likes to draw, so obviously, when surrounded by those snackable men in East company, she draws them! She puts little notes next to the faces (ex. Thinks he’s gods gift to women, or sweetest man alive), and maybe how some of the Easy boys would react to flipping through the sketchbooks and seeing the notes? With Toye, Luz, Bull, and Shifty?

A/N: I drew them for no reason. In like half an hour. I am so stupid somebody sedate me. Btw I actually read this when you sent it and thought omg I love it, and then completely forgot it existed. Enjoy these super delayed headcanons? <3

Warnings: none

JOE TOYE

"Hey, whatchu got there?"

Bad start.

You halfheartedly let him flip through the pages and this man's slack jawed.

Keep in mind that, while Joe knows you sketch in your free time, he has no idea you sketch them.

Double shock when he gets to his face.

Doesn't process the silly notes at first because something's not clicking.

You drew him. Him. Out of- him?

Tries his best not to blush

Genuinely doesn't know how to react

AND THEN HE SEES THE NOTES

This man cannot hold back a little smile of endearment when he reads 'toughest motherfucker' because that's a big ass compliment.

Specially considering he thinks he's a dud.

'an actual sweetheart' this man choked on his own words. A SWEETHEART. HIM. A-

"Do you... Like it or...?"

"It's— yeah no, I-I love it. They're really good huh..." Tries to act cool while he hands it back.

He can't look at you in the eye for a hot minute because you made his brain shortcircuit with a quick sketch.

Tough and a sweetheart. No one had ever called him a sweetheart.

Toye knows he's got a soft side to him, but it's buried so deep he never thought someone would notice.

Bot you did, and it keeps him up at night for months I'm not even kidding.

GEORGE LUZ

George is bored. He's very vocal about it.

You don't care. You're very vocal about it too.

Well too bad because Luz wants attention so he's going to annoy you until he gets some.

Verbal vexation doesn't work because you're currently focused on sketching Malarkey, so he switches to plan B; snatching the sketchbook away from you.

Immediately teases you about drawing Don while you chase him through the house you're billeted in.

Flips through the pages without actually seeing shit because initially he just wanted your attention and he got it.

But then he catches a glimpse of his face and sudden he's actually interested.

A boyish grin lights up his gaze.

He's way too happy about a damn sketch and he knows it but he can't help it.

You drew him and he looks handsome. He has never thought of himself as handsome but apparently you did.

Shoves you away to read the notes.

'Easy's source of joy'. THE REASSURANCE HE FEELS-

He snickers at the 'human lucky charm.

Then his head snaps at you in disbelief.

"SHORT?!" He's FLABBERGASTED. It's your turn to laugh.

Also run because George is so chasing you.

He's not sure what he's gonna do when he gets you. Probably hit you with the goddamn sketchbook. Probably kiss you idk he'll see.

BULL RANDLEMAN

Bull knows you sketch them for fun.

He's caught a glimpse of a couple of drawings here and there but never said anything, not even to you.

But now you two are sitting by each other's side at a bar in silence and he's adamant about making a conversation with you.

He bumps your arm, tilts his chin at you and then at the sketchbook peeping from your bag.

"Can I see 'em?"

How are you gonna say no to this absolute darling? To be fair you forgot about the little notes on his drawing.

He nonchalantly flips the pages, occasionally nodding and making quiet comments.

"You got talent, Y/n/n."

He's got the book wide open so you can see what he's seeing. And you see his drawing. And the notes.

Bull's heart swells at the sketch. It shouldn't surprise him— the fact that he's got his own page, but it does.

He reads the first note and the corner of his lip twists up. HE READS THE SECOND NOTE AND SNORTS.

He quirks a brow at you. "Anything you wanna tell me?"

You're mortified. He assures you he's completely kidding. Congratulates you on the drawings. Gives it back and watch your every move.

Husband material huh?

SHIFTY POWERS

Shifty makes eye contact with you while you're sketching him. Thrice.

First time you give him a mortified smile and he doesn't get why, but he returns it.

Second time he knows something's up. He sees the sketchbook.

Third time he walks up to you.

You attempt to uhm pretty much run away because you just finished so there's no need to stick around anymore.

He cuts through and get to you before you can leave.

"What were you drawing?" He asks, but he means 'were you drawing me?'

You show him and his eyes light up with joy.

He struggles with words but his visage is a very telling sign that he actually loves it.

He goes through everybody's sketch and asks if you were gonna add any notes to his.

The fact that he seems so excited about it dims your embarrassment and gives you a little bit of courage.

So you take back the sketchbook and scribble the notes before giving it back.

HE LOOKS EVEN HAPPIER.

'certified guardian angel' HELL YES, HE'LL KEEP YOU SAFE ANY DAY.

'lovely but deadly' he wants to kiss you. Much like Toye, he's not used to people seeing both parts of him, but... You do?

"Could I... Maybe... Keep it?"

You're surprised no one else has asked for the drawing. Maybe they assumed you wouldn't give it away.

Shifty's eyes widen momentarily when you rip the page and hand it to him.

He'll cherish the sketch forever.

Tags:

Band Of Brothers: @francois-ceverts @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

[lance-space-mommy]

I'm Sure You Regret Kidnapping Me

Midoriya was never one to miss school. Even if everyone made his life at Aldera Junior High hell, he still managed to show up. Midoriya’s presence was expected to say the least. When Midoriya didn’t show up for school, everyone knew something was wrong.

The teacher announced Midoriya was missing and there would be an investigation held. Any information about who was the last person to see him would be vital. They were hoping students would come forward to help.

Before that could happen the projectors in every class turned on and all other devices were shut down. Teachers were freaking out. They knew it wasn’t a power outage as the screen was on, but they didn’t want to accept the other possibility; That they were in the middle of a villain attack.

A slightly blurred video started playing. It was fuzzy, but everything could still be clearly made out. On the screen were two teens seeming to be in the middle of something serious. One looked around their age while the other looked like they were in high school. The younger had short brown hair and mysterious markings on his body. The older person had long, dark blue hair twisted into a braid. She had very flashy jewelry as well as stunning piercings.

The teacher was trying to take control of the laptop, even stepping out to ask other teachers if they were having the same issues. The school speakers also didn't seem to be working as they weren't getting any messages from the Dean of the school.

"This is taking too long," announced the girl, running her fingers through her bangs.

The guy sighed in defeat, looking at some object in his hands. "Shit, you're right. We need-."

The two looked at each other, seeming to both come to the same conclusion. Either they forgot something or realized what they needed to do to accomplish their goal.

The adults and the students didn't understand what was going on. For all they know, they were being pranked. They didn't know the people they were watching and whatever the duo was doing wasn't clear. Bakugo was unamused, his arms crossed as he glared at the screen. A couple of students were talking amongst themselves with hushed voices.

The two rush out of the room and the camera switches to the next room they enter. They are in the hallway now and the area they are in is humongous but low quality. The halls look like they never got past the spackling faze. The drywall was exposed along with spackling paste covering cracks and screws. The corridor was long and tall, showing it was a big hallway. They rush to a cracked door and the camera switches.

Aldera Junior High turns into a trainwreck when they see Midoriya appear on the screen.

The two look nervous upon entering, staying wary.

That got the teachers and Midoriya's classmates to freeze. There was no way the push-over crybaby Midoriya made people uneasy. Soon the school was just as nervous as the duo on the screen was.

"Midoriya?" called out the girl bravely, her voice very soft.

"Hey, Midoriya. We uh-," stammered the boy, looking at the girl for encouragement.

The girl opened her mouth to speak, only for no words to come out. She had to retry, finally managing to speak for the boy. "We need your help."

Midoriya on the other hand was crying, seemingly in pain as he was clutching his clothes. He was covering his face as well so no one could see what his expression was.

The guy nodded even though Midoriya wasn't looking at him. "Yeah, you're the only one that can... you know. Uh- is there anything we can do to make you feel better? So we can get you to help-."

Midoriya snapped his head upwards, his eyes red from crying as tears stained his skin. His lips trembled as he screamed at them. "Somebody sedate me!"

The two leaped back, terrified by Midoriya. Meanwhile, back at Aldera, everyone was wide-eyed with dropped jaws. There was no way Midoriya actually scared them. There was something about the unhinged screaming that sent shivers down their spines.

Midoriya never raised his voice, let alone glared at the people who bullied him relentlessly. There was no way Midoriya was absolutely losing his shit on people who wanted to actually help him. There was also something about the look in his eyes that freaked them out. Midoriya was currently held hostage, and two that were with him were also hostages. Midoriya was probably breaking under pressure. That was the scary part, Midoriya was pushed past his limits every day and he finally hit his breaking point. Midoriya was losing his shit.

"Woah, woah, woah! Izuku, I know you probably want to stab someone right now... but we gotta get out of here," sympathized the guy, stepping over.

Midoriya glared at the guy, jabbing a finger at him. "Don't patronize me! Unlike you, I feel like I'm dying. You got a quirk, use it."

People back at Aldera swallowed hard. The way Midoriya spat the word 'quirk' at the duo gave everyone chills. There was a lot of hatred dripping from Midoriya's tongue as he spoke. As much as Bakugo and his two lackeys hated to admit it, they were slightly bewildered.

While Bakugo was more stunned by Midoriya being bitter and attacking them for having a quirk, Fujii and Yasui were two other things to deal with. Fujii was shocked Midoriya could hold so much anger despite his claim he felt like he was dying. Yasui was taken aback by the fact Midoriya was being bitchy. He was clearly lashing out, defending himself while knocking the two off their high egos.

The two deflated a bit, looking at each other with a shameful look. The girl stepped forwards, bowing her head. "Look, Midoriya. We are sorry for what we said before. We were wrong."

Midoriya struggled to his feet, breathing heavily as he grabbed his gut. "Oh please, do tell. What were you wrong about?"

The girl raised her gaze to look Midoriya in the eyes. "Everything. We should have listened to you. We wouldn't have gotten into this problem if we had listened to you. Clearly, we are useless even with quirks. We shouldn't have said those things about you because you are quirkless. You're smarter and stronger than me and Ogami combined."

Back at Aldrea, you could hear a pin drop from the silence that washed over the group. The occasional noise of disbelief escaped someone's throat. There was no way that someone was bowing before Midoriya and sucking up to him. They were taking the blame and complimenting Midoriya. They were apologizing for treating him poorly because he is quirkless.

Midoriya stepped towards them, glaring at them. "Well, thank you for growing a brain Maeda, and stating the obvious. Also Ogami... I'd like to hear it from you too."

Ogami swallowed hard, bowing as well. "I apologize. What I said before was out of line. Clearly, we can’t do anything right. Besides… our quirks don’t offer us any advantage. We need you.”

Midoriya smiled, letting out a refreshed sigh. “Yes. You do.”

Bakugo stared at the screen, amused. Midoriya wasn’t playing nice and he liked that. The resistance and the lack of empathy coming from Midoriya was unmatched. Midoriya wasn’t going to tell them it was okay and forgive them. Midoriya wasn’t going to pat their shoulders and dismiss their previous fuck-up's with forgiveness. Midoriya wanted to rub it in their faces and make them wallow in their own self-incompetence. Bakugo loved it.

Midoriya made his way to the door, still clutching his abdomen. Maeda went to help him, but Midoriya shoved her off. “Don’t act like you care now. You had no problem leaving me to die back there before.”

Maeda raised her hands in defense. That was the final message before Midoriya started throwing hands with the two. No one at Aldera would’ve gotten to that point. Hell, they’d probably never gone back to him in the first place. At Aldera, the majority would rather die than admit they'd been wrong for the past two years.

A couple of Midoriya's classmates all exchanged a knowing glance. Midoriya was pissed and wasn't trying to hide it. Midoriya probably tolerated everyone that bullied him because no matter what happened, they never switched up. The group was stubborn, but they weren't fake. They weren't going to act like they magically care or go behind his back. Maeda and Ogami had proven they weren't trustworthy to Midoriya.

Midoriya reached the area they had been in and he looked at what they were doing. Midoriya squinted at the machine before turning to them.

"You both are idiots," remarked Midoriya as he crouched.

The two turned light pink as their eyes were torn away from Midoriya. When they heard him messing around with the small machine, they ignored their embarrassment and tapped into their curiosity. Midoriya was messing with wires and cords like it was common knowledge. Suddenly the door flew open.

Midoriya rose to his feet, tossing the machine aside as he had deactivated the security scanners. "Let's go."

Midoriya cracked his back before letting out a shakey breath. He looked through the door to see another endless hallway. Stepping through, Midoriya leads the way. The two follow closely behind, almost cowardly from the foreign area. Midoriya looked unbothered, making his way through without a care.

The trio's heads all snapped to a room where a crash could be heard. Midoriya is the first to move, grabbing the door handle and throwing open the door. An altercation between a doctor and a kidnapped child could be seen. The kid was kicking, crying, and attempting to scream. Unfortunately, the ducktape seemed to silence the child. Midoriya's blood boiled as he shouted out.

"Hey! Get the fuck off of them!"

The person jumped, staring at Midoriya. Maeda and Ogami hid like the cowards they were, staring at each other with wide eyes. The duo couldn't believe Midoriya had the balls to do such a thing.

Back at Aldera, the entire school was in a fit of despair. The teachers all watched in horror as Midoriya just pulled a suicidal move. Midoriya was not in good health judging by his prior cries of pain, he was in no condition to fight nor protect himself. The students were on the same page, but also equally as worried for the child who had been attacked. It seemed that whatever was going on in the mysterious place was a traumatizing nightmare.

Bakugo was undeniably stunned. Midoriya had guts and he wasn't surprised. He had always been that way since they were little kids. He always threw himself in the middle of a fight to stop it. What had caught him off guard was the anger on his face and the fact he dropped the f-bomb. Midoriya rarely cursed and when he did it wasn't anything serious. Midoriya was beyond serious and Bakugo doubted Midoriya had thought past the confrontation.

The villain threw the kid to the ground and turned to Midoriya. "What are you doing out of your cell?"

"You call what I was in a cell? Consider it a cardboard box," taunted Midoriya, staring at the person with a bored expression.

"Why you-," grunted the man, pulling out a gun and aiming right at Midoriya's face.

Midoriya didn't waver, blinking slowly as he crossed his arms.

Teachers covered their faces, feeling dread pool in their stomachs. Students followed suit, looking away in fear of the villain pulling the trigger. Bakugo refused to look away, knowing this interaction wouldn't be cut and dry. Besides, the blank look on Midoriya's face was hard to look away from despite it being so haunting.

A couple of Midoriya's other bullies watched, curious about how this would go down. Midoriya wasn't known well for defending himself so how was going going to get himself out of a gun being aimed at his face.

"Wow, merchandise like you shouldn't go to waste... but if you're planning on being difficult I can easily find someone else to replace you," sighed the villain, cocking their gun.

Midoriya tilted his head to the side. "I think that's the nicest thing I've ever been told. Being quirkless and all... I wouldn't consider myself merchandise that shouldn't be wasted."

The villain cursed themself, their gun seeming to shake a bit. "Dammit. How in the hell did a quirkless fuck like you manage to get out?"

"It's no hard task really. Even with all the shitty injections you gave me, your attempts of trapping your cattle here aren't too complex," sneered Midoriya, swallowing hard.

"If you keep running your mouth like that, I might just send a bullet between your eyes," threatened the villain steadying the gun again.

Midoriya shrugged, staring him in the eyes. "I wouldn't mind. It would probably be the first scary thing you'd do."

"Oh? Do you fear death? Is it because you're quirkless? With how you talk to me I bet you think you can make a difference in the world," ridiculed the villain, smirking as they thought they hit a nerve.

Midoriya remained quiet, his eyes twitching a bit. The villain stepped forward, the gun clearly aimed at the spot between Midoriya's eyes. "Is that what you fear? That you'll amount to nothing? Or frightened you'll disappear from the minds of others before you make something of yourself?"

Midoriya shook his head, letting out a quick chuckle as he let his face fall, void of emotion. "No. I'm not. I am happy because I want to die. I want to return to nothing."

Silence followed. The villain felt their eyes widen, their hand trembling a bit. The child on the ground stared up at Midoriya in shock, everything they just experienced being too much to process. Midoriya's teachers covered their mouths. They were horrified by what they just heard even though they should've been aware they were part of the reason why. Midoriya's classmates paled, listening to the undeniable truth. They should've taken their words, taunts, and bullying at face value. Their actions hurt people and actions have consequences. They actively hurt him, excluded him, and offered no sense of safety his entire time at this school.

Bakugo listened in horror. At this point, even if he hadn't suicide-bated Midoriya, he had been the main tormentor. His lackeys felt just as guilty. They had sided with Bakugo and have been arguably worse in certain cases. They were the ones to announce his quirklessness at Aldera when they all got accepted into the school. They would the ones to laugh and encourage others to be just as guilty by being bystanders.

The villain lowered the gun, his excitement at being in power vanishing. How could they be in power when they were doing exactly what their victim wanted them to do?

Midoriya suddenly lashed out, sending his fist into the villain's nose. The villain flew back, crashing to the floor. The villain was knocked out, unconscious.

Bakugo's jaw dropped. Midoriya's other bullies' jaws dropped. Midoriya's classmates' jaws dropped. Midoriya's peers' jaws dropped. Midoriya's teachers' jaws dropped. Everyone's jaws at Aldera Junior High were dropped.

People exclaimed their disbelief that Midoriya did a one-shot on the villain. People were hyped up, freaking out. People were crapping their pants at the information Midoriya packed a deadly punch. The school was in chaos mode with this information.

Midoriya stuck up his nose in disgust as he rubbed his knuckles. After making sure the villain was out, Midoriya rushed to the child's side.

Midoriya easily took off the ducktape, caressing the child's face like a worried parent. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

The kid didn't bother responding, rushing into Midoriya's arms to hug him. Midoriya yelped at the weight suddenly put onto his injury, but quickly hugged the child back. The child was trembling and Midoriya simply supported the kid's legs around his waist and picked the kid up. Midoriya bent down and snatched the villain's belongings before locking him in the room.

Midoriya turned his head to look at where Maeda and Ogami were hiding and pouted out his lip. "Aw, were you so scared you had to hide?" Midoriya suddenly shot them an angry glare. "Fucking cowards."

No one could disagree with Midoriya. When you compare the two both possessing a quirk and Midoriya alone without a quirk, they did seem cowardly. Midoriya got the out of the area they were originally contained in, took the lead, saved a child, and did all of that while being in immense pain.

Midoriya tossed them the key. "I'm assuming you are capable of opening locks right?"

Maeda caught the keys, nodding. She wasn't about to talk back, Midoriya knocked out a villain with one punch. For a while, the live stream wasn't anything interesting. The four made their way through the halls, freeing more and more people.

Even if the stream wasn't as interesting, the suspense was still at an all-time high. The school full of teachers and students was still anticipating an attack or another villain. There was no way this whole situation would be this easy.

Eventually, their group was up to fifteen people and was making their way through the halls. Eventually, Midoriya reaches a room and unlocks the door with a keycard he stole. The person who kidnapped him and the leader were seated in that room. Midoriya walked in a closed the door behind him.

It seemed as if time slowed down for the group back at Aldera. There was this new kind of fear that consumed them. The unknown ending of the finale. While none of the knew if these were the remaining people, the decor of the room Midoriya was in gave them the impression whoever was in there was of high authority. Midoriya was once again alone, purposely closing himself off from the group because of the kids present. Midoriya was clearly slowing down a bit as time progressed because of his injuries and pushing down his own issues for the sake of everyone else.

"I should've known you'd be a firecracker," scoffed the kidnapper, crossing his arms. "You put up a nasty fight."

Midoriya smiled innocently. "I really hope you enjoyed the broken arm and concussion."

Bakugo raised a brow, slightly surprised Midoriya fought back. Maybe Midoriya wasn't taken by surprise. If he was taken by surprise, his kidnappers clearly sucked at kidnapping. He didn't believe Midoriya could fight in an intense situation like an active kidnapping despite he had watched Midoriya win after being in a standoff with someone armed with a gun.

The leader laughed, tilting his head back for dramatics. "Aren't you entertaining! Never would have thought a quirkless teen in this day and age would have this charisma."

Midoriya's face scrunched up in disgust. "You really are a freak... Tanji Susumu. I know you've been watching, you do realize this is the end for you right?"

The leader revealed as Tanji Susumu, chuckled, "Well... I may just let you all leave without a fight if you care to sit on my lap for an hour or two."

Students were appalled by what they just heard. While it was no surprise this sicko was a pedophile, his bluntness about it was revolting. It was equally as disgusting to say that to Midoriya like it was an offer. He knew the option was to fight or to sexually please a pedophile.

Midoriya stepped forward, a faked looked of surprise on his face. "Oh, so we are negotiating now?"

Tanji smirked, seeming to believe Midoriya was considering it, and got excited. "Yes, we are."

The adults in the room grew nervous. They were blind as a bat and failed to notice the clear strain in Midoriya's smile and the hatred in his eyes. They were terrified at the thought Midoriya would give in. Bakugo knew better, Midoriya threw around emotions and words to mislead his opponent only to strike them down when they were distracted.

"Let's just make something clear," began Midoriya mysteriously. Midoriya walked forwards slowly, his smile dropping into a scowl as he spat, "I wouldn't fuck you if your dick were made out of gold."

Midoriya's tone sent shivers down everyone's spine. Bakugo smiled, genuinely fond of Midoriya's expanded vocabulary and harshness. He wanted to watch Midoriya kill this bastard. All the teachers grew excited, seeing that Midoriya never once considered taking up the offer. Midoirya's classmates were all shaking in anticipation, uneasy about what was to come.

Tanji seemed far too excited about Midoriya's abrasiveness and patted his lap in excitement. "Woohoo! You're one mouthy cunt aren't you?"

The kidnapper grinned, nodding at Tanji in agreeance. Midoriya's frown deepened as he stepped forward. Tanji continued to laugh as if Midoriya's words were the most amusing thing he's ever heard. Midoriya grunted as he sent his foot out, kicking Tanji in the throat. Tanji flew back in his seat, the air knocked out of him. His frantic breathing could be heard.

"Cunt likes to kick!" shouted Midoriya spitefully.

People jumped, yelped, cheered, and froze upon Midoriya's attack on Tanji. The bastard of a man had really gotten on everyone's nerves so no one was complaining. In all honesty, many were more impressed with how powerful Midoriya's leg was. His kick was high and fast. Many also were too busy wrapping their heads around what Midoirya had just said.

The kidnapper approached ready for round two. Midoriya narrowed his eyes and faced his body to the man. Midoriya moved forward and sent another kick to a lovely spot in between his legs.

"Get some!"

The kidnapper fell to the ground, reaching for his manhood. Midoriya stood over him mercilessly.

"Ugly bitch!"

Jaws hit the floor with Midoriya's aggressiveness. There was something so hypnotizing about it. The kick to the balls and the shouting gave them heart palpitations. They were all super excited about the fighting. After all, Midoriya was clearly winning. Some of the teachers were still trying to get over the fact Midoriya cursed like there was no tomorrow.

While many of the teenagers were excited about the fighting, they were extremely curious about where it all came from. He never showed an ounce of aggressiveness and his physical abilities in the gym never seemed to change. Midoriya never showed this side to himself so many questions they had would end up going unanswered.

Midoriya stepped on the two villains on his way to the back wall where he grabbed two knives. "You underestimated the wrong quirkless person. I hope you die a painful death."

The two groaned, struggling to get up. Tanji looked up, clutching his throat. "If you were my son, I’d beat the shit out of you."

Midoriya turned around to look at where Tanji pathetically struggled while gripping the knife. "And if I was your son, I’d slit my throat first." Midoriya flicked his wrist, sending the knife to rest right beside Tanji's hand. "Try harder."

Warry glances were exchanged. Bakugo swallowed upon seeing Midoriya's precision. Midoriya had always been seen as competition in Bakugou's eyes, but now he was serious competition. Where Midoriya's desires never wavered before, he now had the physical strength to support his goal.

Some people were freaking out that Midoriya was dangerous. Some people were amazed by his knife skills. Some were cheering for him for telling off the guy. Everyone would rather die than be that pedophile's child.

Midoriya walked out, closed the door, and punched the security panel, sealing the door shut. Letting out a deep breath, Midoriya turned to the group that had been anxiously waiting.

"Okay, let's find where they kept our things and get out of here."

The group found the storage room. Midoriya called the cops and the group all made their way out of the building. The live stream continued, but they could no longer see what was happening. Eventually, the live stream ended when the cops arrived.

When Midoriya arrived the following week after leaving the hospital and taking a mental recovery, he could immediately tell the difference.

There were a lot fewer insults as he went through his day. The underclassmen no longer whispered to one another as he passed them in the hall. His teachers treated him with respect and took him seriously. If he had a question, they actually answered it. If he had a concern, they listened.

It wasn't until Midoriya was in his second year of UA that he found out about the sudden change in behavior. He always believed it was because they knew he had been kidnapped.

Bakugo and Midoriya were munching on some spicy curry when the conversation came up. Midoriya swallowed his bite before speaking. "What did the teachers tell you when I disappeared for a week?"

"Well, they announced you were missing and there would be an investigation held. Before that even happened, the dumbass villain broadcasted you all escaping like an idiot," revealed Bakugo, scoffing before stuffing his face again.

"What! Oh god. So that's why everyone was acting weird," groaned Midoriya, covering his face in embarrassment.

Bakugo made direct eye contact with Midoriya and bluntly commented, "Half the fuckers were scared of you. The other half was all shy and guilty. Besides, you beating up the idiots and shit-talking everyone was funny."

"You think so?" inquired Midoriya, a timid smile on his face at the hidden compliment.

"Shut the hell up you damn nerd!" roared Bakugo, throwing a spoon at Midoriya.

"Wha-chan!" yelped Midoriya as he swiftly dodged the fork.

(The end! Did anyone notice my two references? One from Neon Genesis Evangelion and one from Ozark)

[annasinterests]

SOUND THE MF BELLS PEOPLE

MAC SHARED A FULL POST!!!!!!! A WHOLE ONE-SHOT!!!!!!!

mac I'm so fucking thrilled and proud of you for sharing!!!! I've left my annotations below for your entertainment 😘

it's very percy to not want to go out with the rest of vox to go drinking, especially since he's not big on ale (or alcohol in general with the exception of finer ones for good occasion/reason)

also spending alone time with him always sounds a1

my jaw still dropped reading the second paragraph even though I knew it was gonna be in there 😭 like bestie even sent me this whole ass snippet and we foamed at the mouth over it and i'm still over here freaking out reading it for like the 3rd or 4th time

him grtting his teeth as he fucks up into reader that has me in a fucking chokehold.

please just one chance i could treat you so-

i swear to GOD there ain't nothin better than having sex after not having it after so long. nobody argue with me on this cause i ain't LISTENING!

also percy adoring reader??? the soft touches and caresses??? somebody sedate me rn.

AFTERCARE!!!!!!!! AFTERCARE!!!!!!

putting on his shirt while it barely clings to reader's figure??? GET INTO IT YUH !

mac i'm in your walls i know that "postcoital state" was from our conversations LMFAOOOOOOOO

omg lil massages 🥺 that's so sweet and real tbh

"finally allowing himself to be fragile, to be soft," BECAUSE HE WASN'T FOR SO LONG RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH i just wanna care for him 😔

i love that you included a little bit of actual plot from the show (the briarwood arch was so good)

i love one (1) pretentious ass.

the scar accuracy 🤌🏽🤌🏽

oh my god they love each other so much stop it rn.

this was so fucking cute and endearing with just the right amount of sexy to it

like i already told you, you did a phenomenal job with getting his character right. i really hold percy close to my heart and really love when his character is done justice in writing (that's not to say i don't love others adaptations of his character tho!) and i think that's what you did in this piece.

fuckin 10000000000000000000000/10 bae. i love u❤️‍🔥

Fine Line

pairing: percival de rolo x f!reader

word count: 1.3K

warnings: no use of y/n, no specific reader description, brief mention of torture, mentions of scars, smut, unprotected PIV (wrap it up yall), creampie 😵‍💫, riding (save a horse), aftercare, praise, (let me know what if anything is missing!)

a/n: dedicated to my sweet @annasinterests because she gave me this new obsession and unavoidable brain rot of this pretty little (very tall) man.

but! this is my first time actually sharing my writing in full and im very nervous 😵‍💫 this has absolutely no purpose and no plot. just something kind of cute that i thought about while lying in bed with my partner :)

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛

It's been weeks since you and Percy have found yourself completely alone. After an especially stressful and exhausting expedition, you and Percy agreed to stay back while the others drink in celebration. After they leave, it isn't long until Percy's grabbing you and slamming you into the bed. It quickly turns into an all night affair. Not that you're complaining.

Eventually, after round three or four, you end the night on top. You're bouncing and rolling on top of him. He's stretching you open and you're chanting his name like a prayer. His pale fingers dig into your hips, gritting his teeth as you pull the last of his energy from his body. His warm touch travels up your body, grabbing a handful of your breasts with his large hands. A string of strangled moans and whimpers spill from your swollen lips as he holds onto you. You move faster, chasing his release. Your fingers trace at the jagged scar crossing down his chest. He doesn't pay attention to the touch. Instead, he groans as he spills the last of himself into you.

You collapse forward, his arms wrapping around you. He holds you against his broad frame. Your forehead is pressed against the crook of his neck as his fingers play with strands of you hair. You're both a little sweaty and sticky, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. His spend drips slowly down his shaft, making a small mess. Neither of you pay attention to it. "Thank you, my dear." He whispers into your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

"I missed you," you say back, nuzzling into his neck as your arms lay limp at your sides.

He chuckled, his hands move to your shoulders, pushing you up so he can get a better look at your naked form on top of him. His left hand rests on your hip, his thumb tracing small circles. His right hand caresses your warm cheek, squeezing slightly as you smile at him lazily. "I missed this time with you, my darling." His voice was deep, filled with adoration.

You smile wider this time, your hands holding onto both of his wrists. Slowly, you drag your fingers down to his shoulders. You squeeze lightly, your thumbs stroke at his collarbones, tracing small scars and a recent scratch from your recent endeavor.

A mischievous smile is stuck on your lips as you lift your hips. His length falls out of you, falling back onto his happy trail. You grin, feeling more of his spend dripping from your cunt as you move yourself down and shift off the bed. He attempts to get up but you push him down.

     "I'll clean us up today." You whisper, kissing his forehead. He hums in response with a dazed smile.

     You clean yourself up, coming back with a wash cloth to clean him up. He lays back flat, still breathing heavily in his postcoital state. A small sigh of pleasure slips from his swollen lips, an arm lazily thrown over his eyes. You smile, cleaning him up before tossing the cloth in the hamper. You pick up his shirt, slipping it over your frame and buttoning the middle two buttons.

    Slowly, you slide back into his bed, hands working themselves up and down his torso. Your thumbs massage through the muscles on his stomach, leaving small, loving kisses at his collarbones. The arm draped over his eyes moves to your cheek to caress it softly. He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes as his thumb grazes your cheekbone. Adoration and affection fill his gaze as he stares at you, straddling him once again.

He winces slightly as your thumb pushes down into a spot on his shoulder that was giving him trouble. You rub it out slowly, feeling the knot loosen as he grunts. "That feel good?" You ask softly, a small giggle filling the room.

He smiles back, a deep chuckle rumbling from his chest. "Yes, much better."

Your eyes flicker back up to him. You cant help but admire him in this state. Completely blissed out and deeply in love. Finally allowing himself to be fragile, to be soft. You've completely cracked his shell, spreading him open into the rawest form of himself. Getting to know every curve and line on his muscular body. It took a long time to get here with him. Spending endless days and countless nights by his side. With each passing hour he becomes more open and vulnerable to you. After Whitestone, he had promised to be more honest. Not just with the group, but with you.

You'd lay together with his head on your chest, your fingers brushing through his soft hair. He'd tell you every little detail. Whether it was about a specific dinner with his family or the torturous actions of Anna Ripley. The woman he had yet to escape from. His nightmares about the torture come and go, but he has you now. To hold him while he breaks, whisper to him that he's safe and that you'd never let anything happen to him. That the group would never let anything to happen to him. That he's loved and cherished, even when he's acting like a pretentious ass.

But now, it was different. He was vulnerable to you in a completely different manner. Not shielding you from the scars and stories that litter his pale skin. The jagged lines and the imperfections that you worship on nights like these. They are all open for you to kiss, to love, to hold. He was open to showing you his love in its rawest form. Open to admiring each other and tracing shapes and confessions onto each others skin.

So you sigh in contentment, moving to lay down next to him. Your head falls to his shoulders, your body pressed against him as he lays on his back. One of your legs lift on top of his hips as you feel him pull you closer. His arm is around you, lazily drawing circles on your side. Your warm hand rests on bare chest as you both lay in silence. Breathing in each others presence in the calming candlelight that illuminates his bedroom.

Your pointer finger lifts, touching the start of the long scar that runs in a diagonal curve across his chest. The soft pad of your fingers presses down as it drags down his pecs and over a protruding rib. A sigh leaves his lips, his free hand moving from his stomach to brush strands of your hair out of your face. "You seem to like that one." He says softly.

You stay silent for a moment, kissing where it starts at his shoulders. His hand falls to your shoulder while his other arm pulls you tighter. "You're so strong." You say lightly.

    "Not nearly as strong as you, my love." His voice is light and sweet. Coated with sleep.

      You just chuckle, propping yourself up on your elbow. Your free hand holds onto his side while you bend down to press soft, calculating kisses down the deep scar. A deep sigh of pleasure is heard as your kisses get longer and heavier.

“Don’t start again, I have no energy.” He grumbles playfully as you kiss down to the very edge of the scar.

“Sorry,” you says sheepishly, falling back into your spot next to him.

He brushes your hair off your face and gives you a tired smile. “Don’t worry. I like it.” His voice is softer than usual, filled with adoration.

Your head is back on his chest, focusing on the rise and fall with each breath. His heartbeat slows down as each minute passes. “‘M tired,” you say as your cheek is pressed against his chest.

He pulls you closer, brushing your hair back and resting that hand on your shoulder. A small kiss is pressed on the crown of your head. “Go to sleep,” he says. He presses a long kiss in the same spot before whispering your name. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

[aggresivelyfriendly]

At Sea

“Do you remember when we used to try to catch the wind?” H asks me casually, like I don’t remember everything about every moment from those years ago.

Before he moved far away, and became whatever the hell you’d call him now. A force of nature.

“Yeah. I remember when we used to try to carry water too.”

“Which one do you think was a bigger risk The wind or the water?” He glances up at me and his eyes are the same color as the tree he’s standing under, least during the day, I have both memorized. It’s too dark to really see the tree with the light behind him, from the porch of my mum’s house, should make his eyes unknowable too, but it doesn’t, couldn’t.

“The bigger risk?” I pretend to think about it, but I know the answer. He’s the wind.

“The wind, even if you capture it in a bottle, you can’t see it, it’s only obvious it exists when it’s under pressure.” I shrug and watch him blink. He’s always been so attractive, even when I was too young to even really know what that word meant. When I got older, I prayed and sedated myself to ignore it. I’d been afraid, when we both started drinking, that I’d blurt it out one day. But the alcohol mostly slowed my tongue, made my libido stumble in its path.

“I dunno,” he huffs and looks at me like a sailor catching the tide. “Water always seems like something that you try to catch, but really holds you.”

“Only if you immerse yourself in it.” He’s stepped toward me, and I’d flow away, but the wave inside of me, the one drinks always sent out to low tide, it’s high, and I’m not even trying to hold on.

“Sounds about right then.” He’s stepping closer to me, and now, the light does blur him, makes him fuzzy like we are underwater, but his eyes aren’t a memory, they’re right in front of me.

“What’s right about drowning?” I try to laugh it off, catch a breath.

“Being around you, just always felt like being underwater. Or like I was floating.”

“What did being with your wife feel like?” I bring it up as it’s fact, he’s married, though he asked to walk me home and looks like he’d like to dive right into me.

He closes his eye and I’m able to escape the undertow until he says, “like somebody is holding me under.”

“Isn’t that being underwater? Do I make you feel like you’re drowning?”

He shakes his head, “being with you always felt like I was weightless.”

I feel my mouth drop, and I know my feet can’t touch the bottom. The feel of his fingers on my jaw, his thumbs meeting at my chin to tilt my head back to him, it’s stepping into cold water on a steamy day. The cool of his lips and rush of his breath into my body anchor me to the kiss. The gush of his tongue across the shore of my lip does nothing to stem the tide.

My mouth closes against his and opens again. The opening volley just a shot across the bow, a drop in the ocean.

He May have said I made him feel like he was underwater, but his kiss drowns me. It’s too deep and I can’t catch my breath.

My legs go out from under me and his grip on my jaw has hauled me up against the bow of his body, crossed tight across my lower back.

“Harry,” I gasp and pull away to suck in a breath. I think I’ve found the edge until his pink, wet mouth has found my neck and I’m all at sea again. His name breaches my lips again and Ive caught his hair in my hand and it’s slipping through my fingers like water.

“Can I come in?” Breath back across my face. Another kiss before I can answer.

I want to say, you’re married, long gone, and dead to me, but he’s caught me, a fish on his hook.

It’s not drowning, but I won’t survive it anyway.

[honeyxmonkey]

"What happened to him?" Annabeth asked with wide eyes as Percy and Austin struggled to hold Will down.

"I don't know." Nico said with a shaking voice, watching his boyfriend with anxiety. "I don't know, Annabeth. He disappeared into the woods last week. He-" Nico swallowed thickly, forcing down his tears. "He's been like this for three days."

Will gasped, fighting in Percy and Austin's grips. "The Tree, the Tree." He rambled, eyes frantically moving around the room wide and wild. "Lost his way, told to stay." He giggled like a maniac as more nonsensical words left his mouth. "Left behind, son of Magic. War worn waters, Flower's bud. The Rhyme... the Rhyme, end of time to light the Rhyme!"

Percy shoved him back down against the hospital bed, jaw clenched. "That sounded like a prophecy..." he glanced up at Nico. "You said he was in the woods?"

Slowly it dawned on Nico.

"The Grove of Dodona..." he whispered, heart hammering in his chest and tears pricking at his eyes.

"Will got a prophecy from the Grove of Dodona?" Annabeth asked skeptically.

"Something like that, I guess." Nico said, pursing his lips. "I mean, his dad is Apollo... and it wouldn't be the first time the Grove did something like this."

"Then how do we make it better?" Kayla asked. "That was in no way a complete prophecy. Those aren't all the words, let alone them being in the right order."

"The Rhyme." Will said again, gripping onto Percy's arm tightly. "Son of the Sea, waters... war."

Percy froze when he said that, face paling.

Will looked directly at Percy, eyes widening. "Percy! The Sea, the Rhyme!" He struggled again, gripping onto Percy's arm even tighter. "Time, Magic, the Flower!"

"Somebody sedate him!" Austin yelled, holding onto Will's shoulders to keep him down. "Kayla!"

"I got it!" Kayla quickly filled a syringe with an anesthetic. She quickly jabbed the syringe into Will's neck, watching as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Austin slowly let go of him, breathing hard. He looked up at Percy who'd begun to shake. "You good?"

"Son of the Sea..." Percy murmured, staring at the ground with haunted eyes. "He-he said my name. He looked at me and said my name, guys."

Annabeth and Nico shared a look.

"This- it's about me..." Percy looked like he wanted to punch someone.

Annabeth put a hand on his shoulder. "We'll figure it out."

"Maybe." Kayla said in a solemn voice. "But how are we gonna get the whole thing? The longer he stays like this the worse it's going to get. We need a way to extract the prophecy from his mind."

Nico sighed, looking at Will worriedly. "Maybe we should call your dad."

[nemesyaaa]

the mood after reading this BUTTTTT THIS ONE WAS SO FABULOUS OMGG !! I WAS ABOUT TO READ RAFE X READER BUT YOUR JJ X READER CAUGHT MY ATTENTION AND I'M NOT REGRET IT. WAS SUPERB GIRL !!! 🥺🥺🥺YOUR WORKS ARE ALWAYS SO GOOD TO READ !!

   “All right. Can you sit down and shut up?” he asks, suddenly by your side, his arm around your waist to secure you in your stance. “Jesus Christ, you’really tryin’ to embarrass yourself tonight, aren't you, cupcake?” LMFAOOOOO 😭

BY THE WAY GERMANY IS SUCH A FANTASTIC COUNTRY LIKE FOR REAL. WISH I CAN GO TO THERE AGAIN

   And when he watches her dance and laugh, he sees everything that she is scared to show the world, and he wishes it wouldn't take that much alcohol for her to show it. She seems free and happy and not at all scared.  I'M IN LOVE WITJ THIS 🥺🥺🥺🥺 THIS IS SO SPECIAL

   That's how you find yourself standing before him, your hand cradling his jaw, eyes piercing yours. And you could've admired his beauty for much longer; the blond, messy hair; the pointed nose that looked so cute on his angular face; the light dimples; the soft curve of his pink lips; and the softness and warmth of his skin. But JJ was confused by your actions.  KFKZKEKEKEIE THIS TROPE, SOMEBODY SEDATED ME NOW

“It's almost as if Aphrodite herself sculpted you to taunt me with something I can never have,” you say lowly, and your hand drops, falling down by your side as you turn and trod away. OH BBY YOU DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO TO ME RN

BUT CONTINUE. THAT WAS SO CUTE !!! FLUFF IS SO COOL SOMETIMES 🥺🥺

"It's almost as if Aphrodite herself sculpted you to taunt me with something I can never have."

hello??? why is this line actually so beautiful and so accurate rudy is so fineee

could you please write a fic or drabble based on this? like maybe they are best friends and he gets drunk at a party and ends up on her doorstep…or maybe she’s patching him up after he got in another fight? idk honestly it’s up to you but i think this is so cute and romantic like it needs a story!!

hope you’re having a wonderful day!!!

ahsjsjsk I'm so happy that you like it 😭😭💕💕 I'm just gonna be so bold and switch it from drunk!JJ to drunk!reader bc that is so much more like me and this is based on a dream I had so I'm gonna do a full on self insert right now for the first and only time ever.

Lowered Inhibitions - JJ Maybank × drunk!fem!reader

summary: y/n gets excessively drunk and forgets that she wanted to keep her crush on JJ hidden from the whole world, especially from him.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: drinking, swearing, self-doubt, throwing up

   Was it a bad idea to try to drink the German exchange student under the table? Maybe. Did you try it anyway? Fuck yeah. 

   But that's how you found yourself completely wasted while he was still standing, albeit a bit more wobbly than before, or maybe it was just you that was wobbling around. 

   “Oop,” you yelp and giggle, stumbling through the crowd of people at the house. You couldn't even remember where you were, just that you needed to see him. The object of all your dreams and desires. JJ Maybank. 

   “Jayyy,” you slur his name, almost screaming, trying to overpower the loud music. “JJ!” 

   “All right. Can you sit down and shut up?” he asks, suddenly by your side, his arm around your waist to secure you in your stance. “Jesus Christ, you’really tryin’ to embarrass yourself tonight, aren't you, cupcake?” And if you had been less intoxicated you would've brushed off the harsh tone in his voice, you would've explained it away, but you couldn't. The alcohol had removed all and any kind of inhibitions that your brain usually held up for you. 

   “What the fuck’s that suppos’to mean?” you glare up at him, and he shakes his head, silently leading you towards the kitchen. 

   “You gotta drink water,” JJ says, taking a large bottle of water from the fridge and forcing you to drink it. 

   “JJ-” you try to speak, but before you can, you turn towards the sink and spit out half of the water you had just drunk. 

   “Fucking Christ, y/n! Do you wanna go to the ER and explain this shit to your parents? Was that the plan?” he snaps, audibly annoyed or more so disappointed and disgusted by your behavior. 

   “JJ, I have to tell you something,” you say while turning to look at him and the kitchen towel he's holding out to you. 

   “What is it?” 

   “Do you promise to not hate me if I tell you?” you give him a sweet look, and he nods, but something inside you, the last tiny bit of self-preservation, holds you back. 

   “Okay. I will tell you later,” you nod and take the bottle of water, making your way towards the dance floor. 

   JJ isn't pleased by how you act that night. You're his friend, and yet you act nothing like he knows you. All he knows is the shy girl that keeps to herself and only ever makes dirty jokes when no one but him is around. The girl that laughs at every joke he makes, even when he knows they are bad. The girl that looks at him like he's some kind of god, and not the son of a drunken deadbeat. The girl that had never had a boyfriend, because she was too preoccupied reading or talking herself down, than to actually notice all the great guys that had ever tried to get her attention. But JJ has never tried it, he knows he isn't worthy of her, knows he would just ruin her. 

   And when he watches her dance and laugh, he sees everything that she is scared to show the world, and he wishes it wouldn't take that much alcohol for her to show it. She seems free and happy and not at all scared. 

   But y/n doesn't even see him staring until he walks away again, back to the rest of his friends. You're not part of their group. You're not truly his friend. You're more of an acquaintance to him, surely. But he's so pretty, and you're in love with him. You know you shouldn't, everyone told you to stay away from him, but you couldn't. He had charmed his way to your heart ever since he had sat down next to you in French class. 

   So what if he doesn't like you? You can do anything, you're invincible and better yet, you won't remember it tomorrow. 

   It takes a few tries before you make it over to him sitting up on the porch railing, his friends by his side. You walk over to him in the straightest line you can manage, but at least you didn't trip or fall. 

   That's how you find yourself standing before him, your hand cradling his jaw, eyes piercing yours. And you could've admired his beauty for much longer; the blond, messy hair; the pointed nose that looked so cute on his angular face; the light dimples; the soft curve of his pink lips; and the softness and warmth of his skin. But JJ was confused by your actions. 

   “What are you doing?” he asked, his eyebrows pinched together, and you hatch a breath. You didn't mean to get caught like that, but letting go would make you feel worse. 

   “It's almost as if Aphrodite herself sculpted you to taunt me with something I can never have,” you say lowly, and your hand drops, falling down by your side as you turn and trod away. 

   You don't understand why you did it or what exactly you did, but you know it was bad. You know that you just embarrassed yourself in front of him and all of his friends. You know this moment will not be erased by the magic of the hangover you will experience the next morning. 

   “Hey, wait,” JJ calls after you, catching up and taking your wrist to stop you from walking off. 

   “I'm sorry. I should go home,” you utter, trying to free yourself from his firm grip. 

“Let me drive you, it's the least I can do,” he offers, and you search his face for a lie or any ill intent, but you can't find any, so you nod. 

   The drive is silent and cold with the loose shirt you are wearing while trying to hold onto him on the back of his bike. 

   “That's it, right?” he asks after stopping in front of your house. 

   “Yes. Thank you,” you say and get off, stumbling towards your front door, but you can't open it as JJ holds it close with his hand above your head. 

   “What you said, what did you mean by it?” he asks, and you gulped before turning around to face him. 

   “I don't know,” you lie, for the first time that night you can think a little clearer, maybe that is because of the wind that slapped you in your face on the drive. 

   “What did you wanna tell me earlier?” he pressures. 

   “Why do you want to know?” 

   “Because I want to. Do I need a reason?” JJ tilts his head to the side, he's smiling, and you don't know why. 

   “I like you, but I know you will never like me, so we shouldn't- I mean, I should stop wishing for things that will never come true because that's just how it is for people like me. The wallflowers and nerds and geeks and-” you don't get to finish your sentence because JJ presses a kiss to your lips. 

   “Never say shit like that again, you're literally a dream girl, even drunk,” he assures you while flattening the hair on your head. 

   “I won't remember this,” you sigh, and he smiles. 

   “Well, if you do, tell me. If not, please don't tell me no when I ask you out next time, and don't ask who else is coming with,” he chuckles and with a single step back he leaves you to slip inside and wish you will remember only the last part of this night.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24 @itsme-again

[supersilversleuth]

Your Words Aren’t Real (So Why Do They Hurt So Much?) by SuperSilverSpy

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Fandoms: DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Dick Grayson & Batfamily members, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Stephanie Brown, Dick Grayson & Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown, Tim Drake, Hurt Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson-centric, Dick Grayson Whump, Whump, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, I seem to be doing a lot of that these days…, Whumptober 2021, Mind Control, fear toxin, Hallucinations, anyway, Angst, SuperSilverSpy, SilverGrayson, SilverWhump, Taunting, Insults, ”who did this to you?”

Summary:

“Sometimes I wish you were my father, but I know you could never be. Bruce will always be my real father. You were just an inadequate stand-in.”

Dick choked, barely noticing the swift kick to his ribs before he was already stumbling back, ducking around Steph’s fist as he fought to regain his balance.

“You were a terrible brother,” said the voices of Jason and Tim. “All you ever did with me was make mistakes.”

OR Mind Control with a heaping of Angst

No. 3 - STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT… taunting | insults | “Who did this to you?”

Series:

Part 3 of 2021 Most Whumperful Time of the Year - Dick Grayson-centric

Language: English Words: 1,645 Chapters: 1/1

Nightwing awoke in a warehouse, surrounded by Batman, Red Hood, Robin, Spoiler, and Red Robin. They were all passed out on the ground, strange devices wrapped around their heads. They seemed relatively unharmed, not a bruise or laceration or twisted limb in sight.  He sighed in relief.

Looking around, Dick noted the absence of visible hostiles. He turned to Robin, who was closest to him and inspected the device around boy’s head; whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.  He felt along the smooth metal, searching (or feeling) for a way to remove it.

A moment later, several ding! sounds echoed in the warehouse, emitting from the head devices. Damian’s eyes opened, glowing a vibrant yellow. Dick backed up as the rest of his family began to rise around him. He knew mind control when he saw it, though that didn’t stop him from asking, “Uh…guys? You still in there?”

Their faces remained  expressionless as they turned threateningly towards him.

“Guess not,” he answered himself. “Looks like it’s just another exciting day in the life of the great and eternally stressed out Nightwing.”

He’d probably have to come up with yet another insightful and compelling speech to snap them out of it, par for the course for him at this point. Oh but how he wished it wasn’t. Every single time somebody in his family got brainwashed, or mind-controlled, or possessed (all of which happened way more often than it should), he was pretty much always the one to talk them down, or get beaten up and nearly killed for his efforts. It had reached a point where he wondered if Bruce was actively trying to get one of Dick’s siblings to accidentally kill him.

Well, at least one thing was different this time—he was facing off against five family members at once, instead of one, or two, or his entire f***ing team. But that was a story for another day.

Maybe, he could actually fight close to his full capability against them, without too much fear of hurting them. He didn’t have to knock them out or sedate them after all, he just needed to damage those device things around their heads.

Hood lunged at him first, guns drawn. Dick dodged, wrenching one of the man’s guns away with a grunt. He threw it across the room, knowing it did nothing for him in close quarters combat wherein he was attempting not to hurt, kill, or maim any of his would-be killers. There was no time for him to contemplate Jason’s likely reaction to the discovery of his ruined gun that would surely come later. Batman was already springing into action, fists swinging through the air in an unnaturally aimed-to-kill way.

Dick flipped around, dodging attacks from the two. He needed to bide his time, wait for the right opportunity to strike. He tried to electrocute them to short-circuit their metal head-band device things, but it didn’t really seem to do anything. He did, however, manage to get in a good hit to Jason’s head, which disoriented the man—and likely the person in control of him. Bruce went down next, Dick slipping the man’s belt out from around his waist in a move no one else in the world knew, and throwing a flash bomb in his face.

Pocketting what he could from the belt before tossing that too away (the emergency beacon didn’t work), he turned to face his new opponents. Spoiler and Robin, the short little duo wreaking havoc to his right, with Bruce and Jason getting back up on his left.

Whoever was controlling his family wasn’t the best at it, though forcing them to attempt murder against their own instincts was a feat in itself.

“You failed me,” said two very familiar voices in unison. It was Bruce and Damian.

Dick was so startled he almost didn’t manage to dodge the sneak attack Red Robin was attempting from behind.

“You failed the mission, our mission, you’ve failed the family I’ve given you, and the city I put in your responsibility.” It was just Bruce now, speaking blankly, words flowing out with no restraint.

Dick swallowed, but forced himself to ignore the man, ignore the words. It was probably just a program to detect negative emotion associated with thoughts of Nightwing and force the mind-controlled victim to...to say the thoughts out loud. Logically, he knew this.

Logic couldn’t prepare him for what came next.

“Sometimes I wish you were my father, but I know you could never be. Bruce will always be my real father. You were just an inadequate stand-in.”

Dick choked, barely noticing the swift kick to his ribs before he was already stumbling back, ducking around Steph’s fist as he fought to regain his balance.

“You were a terrible brother,” said the voices of Jason and Tim. “All you ever did with me was make mistakes.”

His vision had blurred at some point in time, he wasn’t sure when. A fist slammed into his jaw, a bow staff swiped at his feet. Purple flashed in the corner of his vision as his wrist was brutally snapped. Dick opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“They say never meet your heroes. I guess they were right then, hmmm? Except you were never my hero, and yet you still managed to disappoint me anyway.” Steph’s tone was sharp and biting as she jammed a shuriken into his shoulder.

Dick pushed her away, doing a messy backflip to land on Bruce, using what little momentum he had to push off towards Jason, tackling him for the umpteenth time.

“You were unfit to be a mentor, just look at you now. And the students become the masters…” said the scathing voices of Dami, Steph, and Tim. Laughter echoed in his ears, sounding cruelly amused. No, this wasn’t them, they would never say such things…

“Oh it’s all true,” said a voice from behind him, Jay’s voice. “What is it, Goldie, can’t handle the pressure?”

Dick tried in vain to block the voices out, focusing just long enough to knock the device around Tim’s head askew.

The boy fell to the ground, reality mixing with fantasy as Tim’s eyes looked up at him, cold and lifeless, as blood pooled around Tim’s twisted body, as if he’d fallen… Corpse-pale lips parted, harsh words spilling out onto unforgiving ground, “You think I’m just like you, but you’re wrong. I’m better. You couldn’t beat me if you tried. I’m too pure, somehow untainted by your doomed soul, even after all this time.”

Crazed laughter echoed in Dick’s ears, even as he blinked and saw Tim as he actually was, lying unconscious—and alive, on the ground.

“Look at that, failing to protect those you love most? You’re worthless to them, and to me. I should never have taken you in.” The words were growled in a familiar deep register, and yet...the tone was unusually cruel—

Dick found himself sprawled on the ground, back still smarting from where he’d been kicked. He struggled to his good hand and knees, only to hear the sound of a gun cocking. He looked up. Jason stood above him, Steph and Damian on either side.

“Tt, Grayson, always so pathetic.” For a moment, Dami seemed to be wearing an older version of his uniform, from when he was still Dick’s Robin…

Steph tossed her hair back, giggling, and Dick saw her in a different costume, that of Robin, and then it changed to Batgirl. Gah, he was so confused.

She wasn’t. “You’re not going to make it this time around. How does it feel knowing we’d all be glad? You’ve hurt us more than helped us, Dick. It’s time you’ve faced that fact.”

Jason smirked down at him. “Any last words? We all know you don’t deserve them, but, well,” he smirked, “I’m feeling charitable today.”

Dick lunged upward, body tensed as if to tackle, arms outstretched as if to hug. Dick himself wasn’t quite sure what it was meant to be, what he wanted anymore…

Bang!

The gun went off, bullet burying itself in Dick’s side.

Three pairs of feet began to kick at his prone body from all sides. He curled in on himself, clutching desperately at the bullet wound, mind hazy with blood loss and something...else… A scraping noise, close to his ear. Dick barely registered it through the pain of the systematic blows raining down. Another pair of feet entered his vision, Bruce’s Batman boots. Dick panicked, using one hand to staunch the blood flow while the other went to his neck, to where he instinctively knew the real problem was. There was a device, attached to his neck, like a mini version of what the others had, but missing a few parts. He yanked it off, and immediately, he heard the thumps of his hopefully just unconscious family members falling to the ground.

Dick squinted at the device, as he felt himself joining them in the land of darkness. A familiar scarecrow label stared back at him, Jervis Tetch craftsmanship was practically written all over the thing as well…

—

Jason woke, groggy and disoriented. He found himself amongst other bats, all lying on the floor in a circle like some kind of crazy sorcerer spell gone wrong. The others were slowly waking, blinking and shaking their heads as if to clear the fog away. And in the middle of it all, at the center of their little coming-back-to-the-land-of-the-living circle, lay Dick Grayson, covered in blood, close to passing out.

The guy was nearly unrecognizable, but Jason would recognize that ridiculous hairstyle anywhere. Scrambling over to his brother’s side, Jason ignored the way the room spun, placing a hand on Dick’s shoulder and looking down at the man, brow pinched in concern.

“Dickie?” he asked, “Who did this to you?”