#i hate this stuff. can i just hide my money under my mattress again

[wetslug]

finance bros. what % of my monthly income should go automatically to my RRSP and/or TFSA. i dont know what these things mean and im scared

[theunavenged]

Random baby/kid AKJ headcanons I was thinking about instead of debugging an issue at work:

Cathy was a really bad mom at first (as depicted in AK:G) because she was a young, scared, impoverished addict in an abusive relationship. Over time, however, she grows to be at least a caring mother.

One night when baby Jason, like every other baby in the world, is crying non-stop, Willis tells Cath if she doesn't shut that baby up then he will. So she crawls out of bed, grumbling to herself about her hangover, and makes her way to his crib. All they need right now is a child endangerment charge. She lights up a cigarette and leans over his crib, and he immediately stops crying. He smiles at her, and reaches for her, and from that moment on, she does her best as a mom, and Jason still loves her for it.

Notes:

I'm a Cathy Todd stan and can do what I want.

Willis is abusive in my Arkhamverse but not in his regular 'verse. See? He was an asshole but not an abusive asshole.

I actually like Willis being canonically abusive in AK:G because I like to think AK!Jason has a unholy trinity of terrible father figures: Willis, Bruce, and Joker.

For a time, Slade is... I guess maybe you could call it fatherly? He mostly just reminds Jason that he saved his ass from that pit and Jay owes him. But he also kind of watches out for him when Jay first arrives in Venezuela. I have lots of Slade & Jay headcanons for another day 🙃

More below the cut!

Kid Jason hates going home after school because Willis always finds a reason to be angry at him. So, of course, one place he visits is the public library until closing time. But he also meets his elderly neighbor one day in the lobby of their apartment building. He sees her struggling carrying her groceries inside so he offers to help her. From then on, he helps her out here and there whenever she needs it. Sometimes she even gives him a $5 bill, which he hides under his mattress with the rest of the money he's earned from helping her. He doesn't do it for the money but he certainly isn't going to turn it down when she offers.

Sadly, he starts going straight home again after school when he realizes that Willis just takes his anger out on his mom instead of him, and he'd rather suffer than see his mom cry 😭

Notes:

Jay canonically watched out for his neighborhood in AK:G so I'm sure this included helping out elderly ladies.

* * *

One night Willis is in a meth-induced rage and he kicks (literally) little Jay out of their apartment building onto the sidewalk in the middle of a Gotham winter without a coat. Jay makes his way toward his school, or maybe the church they went to once or twice when Cath was trying to detox, or the public library... but all those places are quite a hike away in heavy snow. He's so cold that he finds a spot in the back of a closed corner deli. The back door to the place is propped open and there's heat coming from the kitchen. He curls up between the door and the dumpster, trying to get warm enough to make it... somewhere. When one of the cooks finds him out there he tries to run but the cook, who looks like he could play in the NFL, catches him and brings him inside. The old Italian man who owns the place is delighted to have him there. He gives Jay plenty of hot chocolate and complains about the weather and how the neighborhood is going to shit and other old man stuff.

Jay goes back there after school ever so often, and eventually he starts working there (breaking child labor laws of course). This deli turns out to be a mob hangout, and that's how he meets some of the guys in Maroni's crew, and eventually the boss himself.

Notes:

When Cathy comes home and finds Jay missing and his coat on the floor she freaks. After screaming at Willis she goes searching for her baby boy. She eventually finds him, and he gets lots of hugs and kisses.

I don't know if this one actually works since there are probably lots of places nearby that are open 24 hours that he could go to, but I don't care 😉

* * *

When 10-year-old Jay finds Cathy dead from an overdose he calls 911 like a good boy. Willis freaks out when he finds out (the apartment is full of drugs and drug paraphernalia, and he cares more about his drugs than his family) He's in the hallway outside of their apartment bellowing at poor little Jay, who's already traumatized and in tears from losing his best friend/mom when the elderly neighbor hears the commotion. She comes out and yells, "Willis Todd you leave that baby alone!" (she yells this a lot), then she holds & comforts Jay until the police/paramedics get there 🥲

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Two. Jackbox Shenanigans

warnings: swearing word count: 2.6k (not including pictures) behind the screen (irl dream x reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

Y/n flinched awake, startled by the sounds traveling from the kitchen. Once again, the frosty air pricked her skin, trying to convince her to not move, to stay in bed under the warm blankets. Despite the feeling pulling her into her bed, she rubbed her eyes and sat up, grabbing her phone from her nightstand. Texts from Karl flooded her screen and she replied as she took her comforter off her mattress and wrapped it around herself. She pattered to the source of the noise to find her roommate was making food.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Naomi asked, eyes wide with concern as she looked at Y/n. "I dropped a pan."

Y/n, who was observing the world through one squinted eye, shook her head and she sat at the counter in the kitchen. "No, I should be awake anyway."

"You're usually awake much earlier. Late night?"

Y/n nodded. "George streamed and we all talked for a little after."

"Oh, yeah, I watched his stream this morning..." she started, eyes focused on the food in front of her but Y/n still caught the mischievous glint in her roommate's eyes.

"Of course you did," Y/n laughed through a yawn. "That's your lover."

Naomi rolled her eyes. "Maybe if you gave me his number he would be."

"He doesn't give it to many people. I just barely got it and I've been friends with him for a year. I'm pretty sure Karl doesn't even have it."

Naomi groaned, though Y/n knew it was a joke... for the most part. She got another text from Karl, and consulted Naomi for a second opinion.

"Should I post this?" Y/n asked, lazily holding up her phone with a picture on the screen. Naomi squinted as she looked back over her shoulder. "Karl keeps yelling at me too."

"Yeah! That's a cute outfit. Make sure to credit Karl or he'll yell at you for that as well."

"No chance I'm doing that."

.

Incoming FaceTime... karol <3

Y/n hit accept and held the phone up to make a face at Karl. He mimicked the position. "Hello, sir."

"Hello, ma'am."

"What are you doing?" she asked him, walking to the bathroom to brush her teeth, her comforter dragging on the floor behind her as it continued to protect her from the cold.

Karl got distracted and started messing with something out of the camera view. "Um, trying to figure out what to do for my stream tonight. What about you?"

"I'm waiting for you to give me a fit check!" Y/n yelled. Karl quickly looked at the camera and smiled. He set his phone down on his desk and ran backward so his whole body was in frame. He posed awkwardly a few different ways before running back and resuming his position.

"Yes!" Y/n hyped with a mouthful of toothpaste. "Let's go, Karl! Karl with the old man sweater!!"

He giggled. "You're the one that told me to buy it."

"Because it's sick. Doesn't mean it didn't belong to an old man before you."

Karl pouted before his face lit up. "Guess what. I met a girl."

"Oh?" Y/n cooed. "Where? Do you have pictures? Is she cute?"

"She's Jimmy's new cameraman. Camerawoman. I don't have pictures, and yes. She's very cute." His cheeks turned red and Y/n smiled, flipping off the bathroom light and heading to her closet. She threw her comforter back on the bed and tried to pick out an outfit.

"Come on, bud, elaborate. What's her name? Have you asked her out yet?"

"You don’t get to know her name, I don’t want to jinx anything. Plus, you’ll just look ‘Mr Beast crew’ and find out anyway. Also, no, I haven’t. I'm pretty sure she thinks I hate her because I have not said a single word to her. I get so nervous when she's around I freeze up and just like... act weird. And then as soon as she's gone, Chris freaking roasts me so bad."

"Aw, I can teach you how to flirt if you want!"

"Yeah, okay," he scoffed, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"What's with the attitude? I'm great at flirting."

"No, you're not. I watched Gogy's stream last night."

"What does that have anything to do with anything?"

"I heard the way you spoke to Dream."

"What?!"

"You have zero game, Y/n. Absolutely none. Zilch, if you will."

"Yeah, because I wasn't flirting with him?"

"Not successfully, at least."

"Karl, what?" Y/n laughed but she was so confused. "No part of me was trying to flirt with anyone in that stream."

"Oh, come on," Karl groaned. "Don't do this again. Don't pretend to not like a guy and then cry to me when you're wack ass attempts don't win him over."

"Karl," Y/n started, looking directly at him. "I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about. I wasn't flirting with him. I do not like him."

"I'm just saying, you talk about him a lot. Like, you always panic when he interacts with your posts because you're scared he's going to DM you right after. And you gush about him a lot."

"I do not gush. I admire the hard work he puts into his videos but I talk the same about him as I do with George and Sapnap. The only difference is I'm friends with them and not Mr. Minecraft. He's intimidating, that doesn't mean I have a crush on him."

Karl stared for a moment, trying to read Y/n's expression to detect any lies. "You'd tell me if you did, right?"

"Karl, I tell you everything. I'd tell you if I murdered your family." They both laughed. "It's impossible to hide anything from you, you're my best friend."

"Okay, sweet, but please don't murder my family, just to be clear."

"I won't. I love your mom too much."

"Well, how was meeting Dream, then? Despite apparently not being in love with him?"

"It was cool. Terrifying because it felt very forced but the four of us hung out on the call after George ended his stream and he was much more relaxed."

"That's true. Aren't we all?"

"Not you! You're the exact same person on and off camera. Just a little ball of giggles."

Karl giggled which made them both laugh more. Suddenly, as if he completely forgot until that moment, Karl sat up quickly and yelled, "What am I going to do for the stream?"

Y/n shrugged. "See if anyone wants to play Jackbox. Chat always loves those and it's relatively easy to throw together last minute. You just need to find people that are free to play."

"Genius. Who should we invite?"

"We?"

"Yeah. It was your idea, you have to play."

"But, I've never played! And I barely know all your friends so I wouldn't get half the inside jokes. I'd be a boring addition."

"Please? They're your friends too! You just talked to Sapnap and George for four hours yesterday and George was the only one playing anything. That's friendship if I've ever seen it."

"But... others.... like literally everyone besides Sap and George...."

"Things like this are how you get to know them better. Besidessss, you're never boring."

"Fine, I'll play."

"YES!" he shouted. "Okay, who should we invite?"

**********

**********

Y/n huffed and scooted her chair closer to her desk. She pulled up Discord and hovered over the voice chat everyone was in. An overwhelming number of voices chaotically spoke over each other as soon as she joined.

"Oh no," she mumbled.

"AYYEE!!" a voice yelled, the green bubble lighting around Quackity's name confirming her suspicions.

"Aye," she said back less enthusiastic. "Hi everyone."

"She's here!" George cheered.

Y/n could hear Sapnap huff. "Finally. Geesh."

"This isn't even your stream, calm down." Y/n's eyes scanned the names on the left to read who else was involved in tonight's games. She had suggested a few people to Karl but wasn't sure about the final list. Besides the boys who had already greeted her were BadBoyHalo and Dream.

"Hello, Bugsy! It's nice to meet you! I'm BadBoyHalo."

Y/n smiled widely at his voice. "Hi, BadBoyHalo! Nice to meet you too."

Her eyes slowly traveled to the last name on the list, which had yet to greet her. She wasn't bitter, but she was curious why he hadn't said anything yet. The boys hyped up him talking about her so much but she had yet to feel that energy from him. She picked at the bottom of her hoodie, eyes darting between the names as they lit up when someone spoke.

"Is Dream still AFK?" Sapnap asked.

"I think so," Bad replied.

Maybe that's the only reason he hadn't said anything. Y/n felt stupid for thinking it had anything to do with her.

"He's probably coding something or something like that," George teased.

"Haha nerdy ass man," Quackity cackled.

"Language."

"Don't you also code shit, George?" Sapnap called out. "You're probably helping him test something after this, huh? As Quackity said, nerdy ass man."

"You know what, Sapnap? I'm not sure I like your attitude all that much."

Y/n smiled. Despite feeling nervous, she was already having fun just listening to everyone talk. The real nerves would kick in when they were live in front of tens of thousands of people and she would have to be funny.

A message popped up in the general chat, notifying everyone that Karl was joining the voice call soon so they shouldn't say anything bad.

"Everyone say something weird," Quackity directed.

Discord dinged and Karl's name joined the list on the side. "AAAHHHH-!" he started yelling over everyone to let them know he was here in case they were saying anything bad. With his luck, they were going to say stuff anyway to mess with him.

"So, yeah, that's how I lost my virginity," Quackity said as if he just finished a story.

"To a prostitute?" Sapnap added quickly. "Wow, I never thought you... oh Karl!"

"Language!" Bad gasped.

"What the..." Karl laughed loudly. "What did I just join?"

"Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry," Quackity apologized, which was hard to make out since he was laughing so hard, surprised at what Sapnap added to his joke.

"Bad, you can't say language about a prostitute," Sapnap defended. "That's really rude of you. Maybe it's a little unconventional but they're just tryna make some money the best way they know how."

George laughed with Quackity as Bad sputtered. "I-I said language about what Quackity said!"

"What, virginity?" Karl asked innocently and Bad yelled again.

"Bad hates people who have had sex!" Y/n called, causing Quackity to laugh loudly.

"Bad! How could you?! That's so messed up!"

"Wait, guys, is everyone here?" Karl asked.

"Dream isn't. We don't know where he went."

Karl groaned and started typing something, presumably yelling at Dream to join.

"Let's goooo! We're popping off!" Quackity started saying, stalling. "We're popping off!" George joined him, becoming absolute fools to keep the chat entertained.

"Okay, he's here!" Karl said. "Everyone's here!"

"I'm here, I'm here, sorry. I was... yeah, sorry," Dream stuttered out.

"Welcome back, Dream!" Bad chirped.

"Hello!" he replied. Unexpectedly, his next greeting was directed at Y/n. "Hi, Bug."

Y/n instantly got shy for no discernable reason. She blamed it on his voice and its ability to manipulate emotions any way he wanted. That and she was getting attention from someone first. "Hi," she squeaked back, hoping the contrast of her icy hands would cool her face enough to focus on the game.

"Bugsy, you are adorable," Bad stated simply.

"Sapnap! What did you just send me?" George asked loudly, and just like that, the attention was off of her and she could breathe again.

"What?" Sapnap feigned innocence.

This was going to be a long game.

"Let's play!" Karl decided. "Should we warm up with some Quippy?"

Y/n focused intensely on her answers, silently hoping the others would find her funny.

"Oh my gosh," she mumbled as everyone else finished writing. "Y'all, I'm about to get Quiplashed so hard. Don't make fun of me."

"I seriously doubt it," Dream said. "You can't possibly be worse than George at this game."

"Shut up, we always-  it's like 3 am my time. I can't, like, think of things 'cause my brain isn't functioning."

"Yeah, that's why," Sapnap teased.

"Surreee," Dream said.

The first round wasn't too bad. Y/n was in 5th place but she got quite a few laughs so she didn't care too much about where she stood. She got a notification from Dream on Twitter as everyone laughed at one of Quackity's answers.

Y/n looked back at her screen and saw the new prompt and answers. She read them quickly as everyone was laughing and with a few seconds left to choose, voted for the one on the left. It was funnier anyway.

She loosened up substantially after another round, and she knew it was mostly because Dream had reached out to her. Something about him comforted her and made her feel safe, which warmed her heart.

"Bugsy! What the hell, that's so messed up. You're so messed up," Quackity yelled, laughing at the answer on the screen. They were playing Survive the Internet and her comment got taken way out of context, just as the game intended.

"Oh my gosh!" Karl cackled loudly. "Bugsy, I didn't know you felt that way. Oh my gosh? They're just kids?? Bugsy out the gang?"

Y/n hid her face in her hands and laughed. "Noooo!! Wait I never knew- I didn't know I was ever in the gang?"

"She really said, 'infant children? slaughter them all'," Sapnap joked.

"You know, I think you'd get along really well with Technoblade," Dream added. "Though his specialty is orphans, as it appears."

"No, no, no, whoever wrote that heading is SO messed up!" Y/n defended, rereading the heading that made her comment look bad. She knew it was a game but all the attention on her was making her embarrassed. "Who would think to put that?"

"Everyone cancel Busgy!" Karl yelled.

"Karl, no! You're supposed to be my best friend!"

"I don't know how I feel about my best friend killing children..."

"Karl!!"

"Nooo," Bad protested softly. "I like Bugsy. Don't cancel her."

"Everyone vote!"

The article with Y/n's name turned out to be Dream's. "Dream! What the hell is wrong with you?" she yelled, causing him to wheeze loudly.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I wanted point."

The whole night ended up being like that. Y/n had a lot of fun and by the end, she felt a lot more comfortable with all of them. Quackity, Karl, and Sapnap were loud and very high energy while George and Bad were quieter. Dream was half and half, sometimes matching Quackity's volume and sometimes going a while without saying a word. Overall, Y/n had a lot of fun and hoped to let back in the gang in the future.

**********

PREVIOUS • NEXT

**********

A/N: WOOO PART TWOOO!! Hope you guys enjoyed this part! Also thank you so much for all the love on the first part!! I did not expect it to get as much attention as it did!!!!!

we clearly haven’t got to dream and yn being close yet bc they literally met the day before this but i added a small little dream/yn moment :] pls let me know how you liked this part!!!!!!!!!!!! 

taglist: OPEN (at the time) @hydrate-tion @loraleiix @tinaswagbd @charsdummb @smileyyuta @1ghoste1 @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb @letsloveimagines @erwinss @just-a-stan

[alreadyblondenow]

Angeled | Lee Taeyong (TEASER)

Mafia!Taeyong x Nurse!Reader  

▸ TOO MUCH FLUFF, TOO MUCH SMUT, TOO MUCH ANGST ▸ Strangers to lovers, Mafia au ▸ A fic out of nowhere by B

Summary: A young mafia boss turned his back to his old life when he experienced the calmness that peace brings when you came and saved his life on that stormy night. You and Lee Taeyong fell in love deeply without you knowing that you're sharing a bed with a dangerous man who is hated by many people. Little did he know, you are hiding a secret from him too. One that will break his heart in the future. 

Warnings: Smut on smut on smut. The reader has heart disease so if you are uncomfortable with it, please click away. Mentions of: bruises, wounds, blood, guns, hospitals, drugs, alcohol, blood money, murders, and medications. Unprotected sex, nipple play, handjob, rough sex and intimate sex, oral sex female and male receiving, Somnophilia (with consent of course), heavy and mature themes. serious character death. SMUT UNDER THE CUT!!!!! A/N: Pure fiction. Now that I already finished my back to back smut fic for Jaehyun, it’s time for me to write a back to back smut fic for my number one man. So if you loved Sweet, you’ll love this too. Read Sweet here! Also idk if ‘Angeled’ is a word HAHAHA

“Tae, are you okay?” You heard loud thumps from the bathroom while Taeyong is having a shower.

“I am, but can you help me? I slipped” he groaned loudly. He doesn’t sound fine so you made your way towards the bathroom and slightly opened the door.

“Are you hurt?” you asked.

“A bit and, I’m naked too. But I badly need help if that's fine” you entered your bathroom and saw him in the tub with the shower on.

“Of course it's fine” you said as you enter and turned the shower off, making your clothes wet and your nipples visible through the fabric. He hurt his back but nothing seems to be serious, you checked his forehead and the cut on the side of his eyebrow is kind of deep, and it's bleeding badly so you cleaned it immediately.

“I’m sorry, I’m not usually this weak” he admitted and let out a frustrated sigh.

“You got shot and stabbed two times, of course, you’re weak. And don’t worry, the cut on your eyebrow won't ruin your handsome face” you tried to cheer him up which is successful.

“You think I’m handsome?” he was teasing you but he’s blushing so much. You nod and helped him get up, trying not to look at his big cock, but too late. You already had a peek. “It’s alright to look, your nipples are exposed too and I’m sorry- I can’t stop myself from looking” You let out a nervous laugh before you leave him and let him finish his shower, you told him to be extra careful and you will wait for him outside the bathroom.

And while you’re preparing the stuff you need for Taeyong’s wounds, his warm hands startled you when you felt him touch you by the waist. You turned around and saw Taeyong with only a shower towel wrapped around his waist, looking so handsome and hot with his wet hair and great body. “Sit here,” you said and pat the edge of your bed.

First, you tended to his fresh bruise by his eyebrows, and you didn’t miss the way he looks at you. You pretend that you see nothing and continue doing your job but deep inside your heart is beating so fast that your hands are starting to shake. He let out a soft giggle when he saw your hand and caught your wrist, making you let go of the used cotton.

By this time, your heart is beating faster than earlier. But when he kissed your cold palm, in a matter of seconds a warm feeling scattered around your body and it brought you great calm. “Don’t be nervous. It’s just me” he says and made your hand rest on his shoulder while he boldly proceeds to unbutton your soaked dress shirt. He was quiet for a few seconds and reached for your hand again only to kiss it and ask for your permission.

“Can I?” he was talking about removing your shorts and exposing more of yourself to him. You’re not stupid, you know exactly what will happen if you say yes. And quite frankly, you wanted it to happen as much as he does. So you nod calmly and watch him remove your thin shorts.

His hand moved immediately from below your knee, all the way to your waist, and give your ass a gentle squeeze. It was not too long before he finally continued and remove your panties, letting it fall on your ankles. And lastly, your dress shirt, which swiftly falls down from your arms and made you fully exposed to him.

“Tell me if you want me to stop and I’ll stop” he says when he pulls you closer to him without any warning and made you sit on his lap. His kisses on your body were tickling you, but there is a slight hint of roughness already because you feel his teeth brushing on your skin and his grip on your body becomes tighter. He pushed you on the mattress and grab hold of both of your legs, spreading them to his likeness and massaging your wet slit with his right hand. Lips locking finally, bodies to bodies, and slowly with all his strength he’s finally on top of you, comfortable in between your legs. Grinding his semi-hard cock on your wet slit while his hands roam freely around your body.

You exchange moans and catch each other’s breath with every kiss, stopping both of your worlds when he finally lined his cock on your hole and push in slowly, only to pull out and thrust a little bit harder this time. Taeyong did not hesitate to be rough and showed you how he usually fuck. "Tell me how it feels, hmm? Tell me” he commands with a hoarse voice as he rolls his hips deliciously, sharp, and deep, making you both moan so good.

“Good- ah!” He went a little bit faster while he pins both of your legs on the mattress and kisses your neck. “Fuck Taeyong what do you want me to say” you moan out, clawing his back but careful enough not to touch his bruises because you know his whole body still hurts right now. But he doesn’t care because this has been the best sex he had in a long time.

“Does this hurt?” He gave you a sharp piercing thrust that dragged your body near your headboard, his thrust was so rough that you needed to grab hold of your board instead of his body. It’s like he hasn’t had sex for years and now he’s pouring everything to you, and it hurts so good.

In no time, you started to clench and unclench around his cock. He was busy sucking your boobs and kneading them when he felt it and it made him crazy. “Pill?” he asked quickly, you can only nod and let go of your headboard and hug him again. You wanted to feel his body shiver and hear him moan closely while he cums, little did you know he wanted the same thing too. So he tightens his embrace and kissed you while he holds you by the waist tightly for he’s about to shoot his cum.

He groaned near your ear while giving you sharp thrusts and fucking you through your orgasm. Sucking and biting your right nipple as he shivers on top of you and continues to shoot his cum inside you while moaning, “Oh- ohhh” over and over again.

“Tae. I need uhm- I need you to get off, uhhh. I need water. I’ll be quick-“ you croak. Completely out of breath but you have to keep breathing.

“Y-yeah sure,” you pushed him to the mattress and off of you, quickly you made your way to the kitchen with heavy breaths. Reaching for your medication and drinking it in secret while waiting for its effect before you go back. That was close, you thought. He can’t know that you have heart disease.

With weak legs and a pale face, you went back to your bedroom, but Taeyong came out of nowhere and scoop you off the ground, and carried you bridal style back to your room. Which reminds you... he’s married.

He was all smiles and giggles with a soft cock as he puts you down the mattress and started kissing your body again. “I’m a terrible person” you said and turned your back from him, covering your face with your arm and trying your breathing exercises without him knowing.

“What? No- you’re literally an angel. Because of you, I’m still alive” he protests, making you face him and intertwine his fingers with yours. “What’s wrong?” he kisses your hands. Again. Something that makes your heart soft in an instant.

“You’re married. I found this in your pocket the night you... well, you literally fell into my arms” you reached for your drawer and showed him the thick and gold ring. Both of you stared at its beauty before you hand it to him.

“Well, I hate to break it to you but it’s not a wedding ring” he snorted and kissed your chest, trying to put you in the mood again. “Keep that ring, that’s important” he added and helped you put the ring back to the drawer.

Now that you're that he's not married and you're not fucking someone else's husband, you showered him with deep and lustful kisses. Tongue sucking and lip biting lustful kisses that made you both horny. “Okay, okay. I believe you, but I can’t go again” you said, slightly pushing him away with your hand on his chest. Thankfully he respects what you want and covers your body with your thick duvet.

“Can I at least keep you close?” He asks with a hopeful tone.

“You can,” you said with a smile that changed the mood and you invited him under the covers. His skin is cold, rough in some parts because of all the scars and bruises, but his whole being is beautiful. Oh you wanted to ask him why does he have a lot of scars, but you would rather not.  

“By the way, are you okay? Was I too rough and that’s the reason why you can’t go again?” He asks with a soft tone while his fingers dance around your skin and go wherever it pleases.

The thing is, you’re not a liar but you can’t tell him about your condition. Maybe someday, but for now, you believe that he will see you as a weak person if he knew the truth. And you don’t want that to happen. So you don’t have a choice but to lie. “Yes, you roughed me up. Why though? Were you stressed?”

“I’m sorry, it won't happen again- I got carried away,” he said sincerely.

“No, it's fine. I needed it too, and it felt good” you pulled him closer and cup his cheek, “you were great” you said shyly, avoiding his eyes because you just said he fucked you good. He let out a laugh and wrapped both of his arms around you, trying to hide his blush and his big smile.

What happened between you and Taeyong on this beautiful afternoon is a clear explanation that you like each other. And if love grows between you two, Taeyong will not hesitate to embrace this second life. Although he is not worthy of a peaceful and quiet life, he knew that well, but when it comes to you he can’t help but be selfish.

[spookysanta]

online - seven. (g.d.)

Summary: everyone warned him about talking to this girl online. but he can’t help but want to fall for her… now he has to meet her. what happens when they finally get together in person?

Pairing: Grayson Dolan x Reader

WARNINGS: sorry in advance, that’s all i can say.

click here for  one | two | three | four | five | six.

ooooh y’all are going to hate me. 

UNEDITED

*****

Her head was resting in her folded arms on his chest, and frankly, she wasn’t even watching the film, which just so happened to be Aristocats. This annoyed him because this means that they could’ve really watched John Wick and she’d be none the wiser.

She was staring at him.

“What?” he asked, looking down at her. “You okay?”

She nodded wordlessly.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“Because I can.” She shrugged. “And because I think you’re pretty.”

“Y’know what?”

“Do not say you think I’m pretty.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.” He shook his head. “I was going to say that I think you’re amazing.”

“I’m not amazing,”

“Yes, you are.” He emphasized, “Stop sayin’ you’re not.”

“Because I’m not, Gray. I’m just as average as anyone you’ve ever met; I’m just crazy enough to entertain your shenanigans.”

“Oh, please, you’d entertain my shenanigans anyway.”

“That’s debatable.” She got up from the bed, leaving the room and going into the kitchen to the freezer for her ice cream. She turned the corner and found Ethan leaning against the counter eating a bowl of cereal. “Hey.”

“Hey, (Y/N). What’s up?” he replied with a mouth full of cornflakes.

“Nothing much—Grayson and I wanted to have another movie night.”

“Oh.” Was all he said. “Cool.”

And then he left without another word.

That’s weird, she thought. She always assumed that he was more talkative, given the evidence from the boys’ videos and their interactions with each other. Was it her? Maybe he doesn’t like her? She thinks that would make sense because she just showed up—Grayson never asked Ethan if it was okay for her to stay.

Dammit, now she feels bad.

She took her cup of ice cream and a spoon, sighing as she left the kitchen and went back into Grayson’s bedroom, plopping onto the mattress.

“What?” Grayson spoke up, noting easily her body language. He may be a lot of things, but he’s observant for sure.

“Nothing.” She kept her back turned away from him, eyes cast down toward the floor.

“Oh, is that what we do now?” he paused the movie, propping himself up on his elbows. “Don’t lie to me, (Y/N). What’s going on?”

“I just…I…” she fumbled with her words, and then finally, she turned to face him. “Does Ethan not like me or something?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “No, I don’t think so. What would give you that impression? Did he say something to you?”

“It’s not that he said anything; it’s that he’s not saying anything.”

“Meaning…?”

“He doesn’t talk to me. And he seems like the kind of guy who talks a lot to people he likes, right? So, my assumption is either that he doesn’t like me, or he’s suddenly shy.”

He reached a hand out to squeeze her hip. “C’mere.”

She scooted further into the mattress, allowing Grayson to wrap around her. She laid her head on his shoulder, lazily scooping the ice cream and putting it into her mouth. He kissed her on her forehead.

“Is he mean to you?” he asked quietly.

“No, that’s the thing—he’s polite, but I feel like he doesn’t like me for some reason.” She sighed again. “Am I overreacting?”

“You’re not overreacting, honey. Just give it time. He doesn’t know you very well, and that’s on me.” Grayson rubbed her back, pulling the two of their bodies to lean against the headboard. “I told him some stuff about you, but he still doesn’t know you for himself. It’s going to take a minute for him to get comfortable with you, but there isn’t a reason for him to not like you, baby. You’re beautiful and smart, you’re funny, you’re nice…what’s not to like about you?”

“I’m sure Ethan found something.” She mumbled.

“Okay, now you’re overreacting. How about this—I’ll talk to him, alright?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. I’ll talk to him and prove to you that there’s nothing for you to worry about.” He took the cup of now almost-melted ice cream, scooting from behind her. “I’m going to put this in the freezer. In the meantime, you turn on Monster’s, Inc.”

“Ugh, Grayson—”

“No. Shush. Put on the movie.”

“Alright, alright.”

***

“Hey, E.” he said the next morning as he opened the door to his brother’s bedroom. “Can I talk to you?”

“Yeah, man.” Ethan replied, turning around in the chair at his desk. “What’s up?”

“Uh…I’m not too sure how to say this, but…is there something up?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, (Y/N) said she talked to you last night, and now she’s under the impression that you don’t like her, and I—”

“I don’t like her.” Ethan said flatly.

“What?”

“I don’t like her. There’s something about her I don’t like. I don’t know what, but I don’t consider her a friend of mine by any means.” He shrugged.

“Did she do something to you?”

“No.”

“So…why don’t you like her then?”

“Didn’t you hear what I said? I said I didn’t know why, there’s just something about her that I’m not into.”

“Is it because I met her online? Or that she’s staying with us?”

“Well, that didn’t help her cause, Gray! You’re bringing random girls—”

“She is not some random girl. I like her.”

“You don’t even know who she really is, Grayson! She could be after our money, she could be a murderer, even—but you wouldn’t know for sure because you didn’t meet her naturally.”

“Naturally? What the hell do you mean by “naturally”? Oh, excuse me for not chasing a girl down in a coffee shop, Ethan! People meet each other online all the time!”

“And how many of them fly these girls out to have them stay in their homes? Not many, I’d suspect.”

Grayson scoffed. “I like her, man. If there was something sketchy about her, I think I would figure it out.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Ethan shook his head. “You like her, so you’re ignoring possible red flags. You did this with Lucy, Gray—you were head over heels for her, and then the next thing you know, she’d stolen half of your stuff and sold it online.”

“Shut up.”

“You didn’t even notice that your shit was going missing! First, your chain, then your ring. Then it was a shirt, and then a hoodie. And let’s not forget the time she came over when we weren’t home and ransacked your closet.”

“Fuck you, Ethan! This isn’t the same thing.”

“That you know of. She’s hiding something, Gray, I know it. And it’s just a matter of time before something goes down.” He folded his arms across his chest. “She could be another Lucy, and you’re falling into her trap.”

“Is that what you think of me?” A voice asked quietly from the hall. Their heads snapped in the direction of the doorway, where she was standing with tears in her eyes. “You think…I came all the way here to rob him?”

Ethan stood from his chair. “You might be, what do I know?”

“You know nothing, that I can tell.” She grunted. “I came here because I wanted to meet him—because he’s all I have. If you really think that I would come all the way here just to hurt him, you’re wrong.”

“He’s all you have? He’s all I have. You’re just some girl he met online, he’ll get over you soon enough.”

“Ethan.” Grayson warned. “Enough.”

“I’m not just some girl.”

“Oh, well that’s funny, because if he were serious about you, I would know more than your first name. I didn’t know you existed until recently, honestly—that leads me to believe that he’s not too worried about you and him lasting long.”

She looked at Grayson. “Is that true?” she asked. “You didn’t tell him anything about me, did you?”

“Baby, I told him things about you.” He reasoned.

“Like what?”

He pondered for a moment. “I told him your name, obviously. I told him where you lived and that I met you on Instagram. I told him all about you.”

“Did you tell him you had feelings for me?”

“Yes, baby, I did. I told him that I was crazy about you.” He approached her and took her hands in his. “He knows how much you mean to me, honey.”

“So why does he think I’m like “Lucy”?”

“Because he met Lucy online, too, (Y/N).” Ethan said. “I don’t know what he told you about her, but she’s part of the reason why he doesn’t date much anymore. But you’d think that he would’ve learned his lesson about dating online, but clearly, he hasn’t.”

Tears streamed down her face. “Wow.” She chuckled sadly. “You’re pretty quiet, Gray—that’s a first.” She snatched her hands from his grasp.

“Baby, how would I have told you that?”

“What, that you chat with girls online and fly them out for fun? Is that your entertainment now, Grayson?”

“She’s the only other girl who I’ve met this way. I didn’t want you to think I was suspicious of you because I like you. More than I liked her.”

“You still should’ve told me, Grayson! Your brother assumes I’m a thief all because of a girl you opted to not tell me about. Don’t you think that’s of any importance to you?”

“Of course it is!” he exclaimed, making her jump. “What she did shouldn’t affect you at all.”

“Clearly it does.” She pointed at Ethan. “I can tell than I’m not wanted here.”

“I want you here, baby.”

“Don’t call me that. Ethan, do you want me here?” she sniffled.

“Not really, no.”

“Well, then. I’ll pack my bags and be out of your hair by tonight.”

[nastasyafilippovnas]

santhony + “No one will ever compare to you.”

better late than never, right? lol 

santhony + no one will ever compare to you, pre-canon, 1.5k (ao3)

It was two in the morning and the couple on the apartment upstairs was arguing again. From his place in bed, seating with his back against the headboard, Anthony could hear their shouts loud and clear through the thin material of the ceiling. Next to him, Siena slept soundly, unbothered by the confusion. Since they had started seeing each other three months ago, it had always been like this. She had told him she learnt early on to get her rest whenever she could, because you never knew when a rehearsal would run late. Before her, Anthony had never thought how much work went into becoming an opera singer, now it seemed like every moment she wasn’t with him, Siena was either rehearsing or performing. Her hair was sprawled on next to him and he played mindless with it, his father’s watch on his other hand. Soon he would have to leave her. He wanted nothing more than lay down and curl next to her, enjoying the few hours they had left together.

Unlike her, though, he had always had trouble falling asleep. There was always so much going on, problems with the state, Daphne’s dowry to secure for her season next year, it felt like his brain could hardly shut down. And when he did manage to close his eyes, even then the smallest of noises would wake him up. Needless to say, he never got much sleep whenever he spent the night at her place.

The apartment itself wasn’t that bad. Anthony had seen the awful conditions in which the lower classes lived, among the filth, sewage and rats infesting their houses. Her place, despite being terribly small, was at least clean and in a decent neighborhood. Unfortunately, in order to pay the rent, she had to share it with four other singers and there were only two bedrooms. That meant that, whenever one of them was entertaining a male companion, at least one of them had to sleep on the threadbare couch on the living room. Tonight was Lisa’s turn, if he was not mistaken. And then tomorrow or the day after it would be Siena’s turn to spend the night on the couch as Lisa had her gentleman over. Anthony frowned at that thought. Her bed was already uncomfortable, the mattress too hard and thin. He didn’t like imagining her on that couch, on the cold living room, sleeping without any of the comforts he was so used to having every night.

A loud bang echoed through the room, indicating that one of the members of the couple upstairs had finally had enough and had decided to leave, taking his frustrations on the door. Instead of just leaving, however, the man continued the discussion outside and woke up the entire floor above them.

Anthony sighed in frustration. That was the last straw. They couldn’t continue like this.

“Siena…” He shook her shoulder lightly to get her to wake up.

“Anth…” She woke up fully before finishing his name, leaving Anthony disappointed. He had already told her she could call him by his first time and yet she insisted on keeping the formalities between them. “My lord, is everything okay? Are you leaving already?” Siena asked, glancing at the open window for a moment, to confirm that it was still dark outside. She wasn’t a clingy person, but she still felt like her time with Anthony was always cut short. It worried her sometimes she was getting too attached to something that would end, sooner rather than later. 

It wasn’t hard to figure out what was going through her mind, Anthony thought. He had promised he would stay the night. And he had wanted to. Nothing gave him more pleasure than the smile on her face when she woke up and realized he was still there, wrapped around her. He had thought they could even have breakfast together. Staying with her wasn’t the problem. 

Her annoyingly loud neighbors who were the problem. That and the threadbare couch. And the shared bedrooms. And the twin-sized bed with the thin mattress. And the one communal bathroom down the hall, now that he thought about it. This whole place was the problem. Siena couldn’t continue to live like this. 

“You need to move.” He said, instead of answering her questions.

She laughed at him, seating up next to him. It was cute how he thought she could just up and leave because her neighbors kept him awake at night. The rich were really something else.

“Do you know how hard it was to get this place with this price? Lisa had to seduce the landlord. I know you hate all the noise but it’s not that bad really.”

Just to contradict her, another loud sound came from upstairs and Anthony could swear he heard the ceiling cracking under the weight of whatever they had thrown around.

He raised his eyebrows at her and she could feel herself flushing under his stare. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t understand how this was an improvement.

“So they get loud, who doesn’t sometimes? We certainly did too last night, my lord.” He was about to protest, but she continued, “Maybe once I start getting cast as lead, I can get my own place. Mr. Piazzi told me he would pay me more once that happens.”

“Siena…” Anthony turned around, caressing her face and trying to get her to relax. He hadn’t wanted to make her upset. “You don’t have to worry about the money. I can get you a better place. A nice house in a good neighborhood, some servants…I could give you some money for expenses too. You don’t have to live like this.”

Siena had had an arrangement with an older gentleman before Anthony, just as she had started at the opera. She wasn’t ashamed of it, she would’ve never survived in London otherwise. But her and Anthony had never discussed payment before. Oh, he had given her stuff, a new dress, some pretty expensive earrings, a necklace once. It was standard practice. Siena wasn’t stupid to not know what it all meant. He had been showing his appreciation for her services. And yet, for a moment, she had forgotten who they were. She had let herself pretend they were just two people who liked each other. 

“And what am I supposed to do in exchange of that, my lord? Sit around and wait for you the whole day? Open my legs whenever you want?” She couldn’t hide the anger in her voice. She hated Anthony at that moment for reminding her what she was and what she would always be for a man like him. Just another convenient whore.

“No, of course not! You…you can do whatever you want. You are still going to be who you are.” Anthony paused, his hands going through his hair in frustration. “This is not coming out like I wanted it to.”  

“Try again, my lord. How did you want it to come out?” The words were still biting, but less so. 

Anthony looked down, and Siena noticed he was turning around the watch in his hand. 

“I don’t know how to do this right. I’ve never been in a relationship before.” He had been with other women, of course, but none had lasted as long as what he and Siena had. And none that he wanted to last for a lot longer. “I just…I thought about you spending the night in that sorry excuse for a couch in the cold living room and I wanted to do something about. There’s no reason for you to live in these conditions when I can give you something better.”

Siena bit her lip. He was still staring down at the watch and she moved closer, until she was seating in his lap. She took the watch from his hands and carefully placed it on the bedside table.

Anthony finally looked her in the eye.

“I want to take care of you.” He said simply.

She could hear the honesty in his words and see it in his eyes. Her left hand went up to his hair, caressing it softly, while the right one settled on his bare chest, above his heart.

“What happens when you grow tire of me?” Anthony opened his mouth, but she quickly put a finger on top of it to stop him. “Or when you finally marry someone?”

He kissed the finger still on top of his mouth. “If I may speak now…” Siena removed her hand from his mouth. “I think you’re forgetting a couple of things.” He said, his hand going around her waist and bringing her closer to him.

“What?”

“I have three brothers, two of them already old enough to have children, so I don’t have to get married. And…” He caressed her chin and brought her closer for a slow kiss. Before Siena could deepen it, he pulled apart. “Why would I marry? No one will ever compare to you.” 

He saw her smile for a moment before kissing him hard in the mouth and he knew it meant she had accepted his proposal.

“I can’t wait until I have you on a proper bed.” He said between the kisses.

“Shut up before I change my mind.” 

[conceptstage]

A Funny Trick

AO3

She doesn’t really remember meeting Bren. He was just always a part of her life. She doesn’t have a single memory of a time when she didn’t know him. His mother worked on her father’s vineyard, that must have been why she was allowed to hang out with him since usually her mother wouldn’t allow her to associate with poor kids.

During the day, while their parents were working, he would come up to the house and hang out with her. He called it babysitting but Beau called it friends.

Bren frowned and just flipped to the next page in his book. “I am just your babysitter, Beauregard,” he said in his thick zemnian accent.

“But I’m not a baby and you’re not my boss, so it’s not babysitting.” She was practicing her somersaults in the grass a few feet away from him. She was getting really good at them.

“What else would you call it when someone pays an older person to watch their child while they’re away?”

“A funny trick. You got my Mommy to pay you for being friends with me, very good idea.”

He chuckled a little and rolled his eyes. “You are five, I am fourteen. We are not friends. I care for you but we cannot be friends.”

“Why?”

“Because you are five. You should make friends your own age.”

Beau pouted and crossed her arms. “But they don’t like me!” she complained. “The kids around here won’t be my friends.”

Bren sighed and shut his book, using his thumb as a bookmark. “I am sure that’s not true. Why do you think that they don’t like you?”

“They told me.”

He blinked in shock. “I… Oh. Perhaps you just misunderstood?”

“Anne said ‘You’re stupid and annoying, go away, we don’t like you’.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Yes, that is difficult to misunderstand.”

“So, see? You have to be my friend cause you’re the only person in the world who likes me.”

He thought about it for a long moment and turned back to his book, though it didn’t seem like he was reading it. “Maybe we can be friends when you are older, ja?”

She frowned and started kicking at the grass, angry and sad. “Fuck you.”

Bren looked up at her sharply. “Beauregard! Where did you learn that!” She grinned and laughed and started running away from him. He tossed the book away and started to run after her but she was so fast that he couldn’t catch up. “Do not say that in front of your parents! They will kill me!”

-

Bren babysat her for a little while longer, until he got accepted into the fancy smancy magic academy in Rexxentrum. Beau sat down on his suitcase and pouted, her arms crossed over her chest.

“You’re not going.”

Bren sighed but there was a small, fond smile on his face as he packed up his component bag. “Beau, I will miss you too, but I have to go to school.”

“No you don’t! You don’t though. You can stay here and work for me when I take over the business. I promise I’ll be the best boss ever, you can have ice cream whenever you want.”

“I do appreciate that, danke. But this is what I want to do with my life, Beau. This is important to me.”

“I thought I was important too! You told me I was your little sister!” She was valiantly holding in her tears but she couldn’t stop her bottom lip from wobbling.

He chuckled and turned to kneel down so that they were face to face. “You will always be my kleine schwester, ja? Always. But I have to go to school now. I will write you letters all the time.”

“But I can’t read.”

“Then maybe you should start learning.” He walked over to his bookshelf and dusted off a small novel hidden in the back. It was a short, easy story about a woman who was competing to marry a prince and was sabotaged by the prince’s mother who put a pea under a stack of mattresses. He walked it back over to her and handed it over and she squinted at it suspiciously, turning it over in her hands. “This was my favorite book when I was a few years older than you. You are not ready for it now, but you can hold onto it until you are and then you can send me a letter to tell me about it.”

She reluctantly got off of his suitcase when Bren’s father came up to take it down to the carriage waiting outside, holding the book tight against her chest. She refused to let go of Bren’s hand until she had no choice. He hugged his parent’s goodbye and wiped away his mother’s tears and turned to leave.

-

Her new babysitter was a mean older woman who used to babysit her mother when she was Beau’s age. She had a lot of rules, stupid rules that seemed designed to make Beau misrable. 

Young ladies must always wear dresses, never slacks, and most certainly never shorts. 

Young ladies must spend their time learning piano, or embroidery, or dancing.

Young ladies must eat with their mouth closed.

Young ladies must never have skinned knees or grass stains.

Young ladies must never call people ‘poo poo heads’.

Sometimes she hated being a young lady.

She got letters from Bren every few months. He sent them along with letters to his mother and she would bring them over to her before she started work for the day. Beau would stuff the letter into her petticoats until she could find time to hide it in her room. She couldn’t read it all yet, she understood some of the words, and she wanted to save them for the day she could read the whole thing.

Over the years, the letters got fewer and farther between. At the beginning, she got letters once a month, then they spaced out to once every three months, then twice a year, then one letter at Harvest Close. They got short too. The first letters were several pages long,  full of stories from school. As she learned to read she would reread his letters every night until she knew them by heart. After a few years she had less and less to read. The last letter she got was only half a page long. It was cold and detached, wishing her a happy Harvest Close.

She knew that his mother still got letters but whenever Beau asked if one had come for her, his mother would give her a small smile and pet her hair. “I am sure he is just getting busy, little one. He will send you another letter soon.” But he never did.

She was eight when his parents died.

People said they left a fire burning in the stove when they fell asleep and suffocated in their beds.

Bren hadn’t come to the ceremony. 

She never forgot about him, her first and only real friend, her brother, but as the years passed he sort of receded to the back of her mind. She was forced to leave his letters and book behind when she got shipped off to the Cobalt Soul but at that point she had long accepted that she would never see him again.

The day she left Zadash was the anniversary of the day that he left for school. Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe it was fate.

-

She looked up when someone walked down the stairs, idly listening to Jester’s story as she spoke quickly and excitedly. Fjord was watching Jester and smiling a little as she ate but he was probably too tired to join the conversation, he’d gotten really beat up the day before.

The stairs creaked as a man with long, curly red-brown hair stepped down the stairs. He was dirty, dusted with dirt and dried blood. He was wearing a too big coat and a heavy scarf that covered the lower half of his face as he and his smaller friend made their way over to the table next to them. He didn’t look up, just watched his feet as he moved. 

He sort of reminded her of someone. Maybe if he walked with his back straight and his chin up high, maybe if he smiled kindly, maybe if he had his hair immaculately styled and cleaned… Maybe he would almost be her long-lost friend. She turned away from him and started listening to Jester once more. When Jester finished her story, Beau and Fjord started talking about their plans for the day and counting their money but paused when Jester suddenly leaned over to their table neighbors.

“Are you two staying here?”

The halfling(?) froze and her big eyes blinked under her bandages. “Don’t move. Tieflings can only see movement.”

The red haired man frowned. “I do not think that is-”

“No it’s true we have a very hard time seeing things that aren’t moving. But I can hear you. You should take a bath. They have baths here, you know.”

The man looked surprised. “I- What?”

“You wash yourself with water.”

“Ja, I know what a bath is.”

Jester leaked even farther and started to whisper loudly. “It’s because you smell really bad! And I would hate if I smelled that bad and someone didn’t tell me.”

The man blinked at her like he wasn’t sure what he was looking at. It was a very Bren-like expression that made Beau’s chest feel tight. “I- I have only just met you.” It was strange to meet someone else with that accent. The Ermendruds were the only other people with it that she’d met before now. Maybe this man was a distant relative.

“Hi, I’m Jester!” Jester said, reaching out to shake his hand. 

The man just stared at the offered hand and kept his own hands in his pockets. “C-Caleb.”

Jester shook her empty hand. “Nice to meet you, Caleb. How much silver did I get?”

Beau looked down at the three piles in front of her. “Seven.”

“Woo!”

The red haired man finally looked up at her and met her eyes. He gave her a… curious look, like he wasn’t sure what to make of her.

“And 16 copper.” The eyes didn’t leave hers, getting wider and wider as Caleb seemed to come to a realization.

He jumped to his feet and grabbed for his little friend's arm, hauling her back towards the stairs. “It was very nice to meet you all, have a good day. Jester,” he said as he disappeared up the stairs. “Beauregard.”

“Caleb?” the halfling screeched, her voice fading as she got farther away. “What’s going on, what’s wrong?”

Beau watched him leave and exchanged a glance with Fjord across from her. He frowned and crossed his arms. “That was weird.”

“Yeah,” she said. “He looked really familiar.”

“No, I meant… You never told him your name.”

Beau frowned. Then, it was like getting hit by a train.

“That son of a bitch,” she hissed, throwing herself out of her chair and marching up the stairs after them. “I’m going to kill him! Don’t you run from me, you piece of shit! You have some explaining to do!”

[ganymedesclock]

Dead Cells and the weight of small lives pt.2 (NPCs, the dead and alive)

Continuing from part 1, now that I’m refreshed, rested, and ready to continue this monster post. I finished off last post talking a bit about the way Prisoner acts onto NPCs and interact-able bodies, so this chunk is picking up with that in earnest.

Here is the thing. If you punt the corpse of an executed prisoner, that’s generally a dick move, so this is another place I feel like I can understand why people might get the takeaway Prisoner is kind of a jerk. But I feel like it’s worth examining, in detail, the kind of interactions he has.

The mechanics of Dead Cells are very focused on scavenging, looting, and a limited amount of buying your way forwards- and, spoken as someone starting to dip my toesies in the higher Stem Cell counts- thus, more difficult runs- any random encounter you can get items from is a godsend.

It’s also where you get a lot of the lore of the game, in random events- some of which will show up in multiple areas, others unique- that tell you about the world.

It’s in these interactions, mainly, that I see Prisoner characterized as a fairly compassionate guy with a morbid sense of humor, and I struggle to see him as a total uncaring asshole. To gloss over a large number of interactions, here’s some common threads:

Prisoner is fairly flippant about death / used to seeing corpses. He will also sometimes kick the bodies with his bare feet to make them drop items, which, as a fairly tactile sensitive person, the thought makes my soul depart my body. Kicked bodies are seldom visibly disturbed from their position by this, though they do drop items. 

He is not opposed to looting said corpses / prying useful items out of their hands, though he may comment on riffling through someone’s stuff being a social no-no while doing so.

At the same time, he far more often uses “personlike” language rather than “objectlike” language to describe the bodies (“this guy” “her” “him” “population”) with the main exception being interacting with a bloated, waterlogged corpse.

You can virtually always examine a lot more than what has money or weapons and Prisoner will have salient thoughts about it suggesting he is proving keenly observant and not specifically looking for loot and ignoring all else.

From here, I’ll go into several incidents I think are pretty noteworthy. 

A fair warning that these are quite morbid and discuss/depict the kinds of things people do when everything is falling apart and people are dying all around them, so, not exactly gentle reading.

1. The Flower Loving Prisoner

This is a fairly common encounter you can find in the Prisoners’ Quarters and Promenade, possibly other places. It is a small cell, with several points of interest, mostly being the large number of potted flowers and the small window. Poking around will have Prisoner note that the flowers “have been a bit underwatered recently” and that the fabric of the mattress was torn up and used elsewhere.

Specifically, for a noose- the person occupying this cell hung himself, and his corpse is holding a single flower in its hands.

For the room, Prisoner remarks “looks like this guy loved flowers.” For the body itself,

“Guess he wanted to choose the time of his death. He’s holding a faded flower between his fingers. A moment of silence… NAH! I’ve got better things to do!”

The “nah” is punctuated by him kicking the body, causing it to drop a necklace- but not the flower it’s holding.

So here’s the thing. This is a flippant action. At surface pass, Prisoner is disrespecting this person who is characterized by growing flowers in a prison- and holding onto this small thing of beauty, even in death.

The thing is though, someone who doesn’t care at all wouldn’t, of their own accord, independently air the idea they should have a “moment of silence” for this person, even to veto it a second later. Nobody is here to see or care what Prisoner is doing.

Also to someone who doesn’t care at all, the entire rest of the room would be of no interest; it would be trivial that flowers were important to a dead person.

So this creates an interesting duality. On one hand: Prisoner very clearly doesn’t care much about bodies. This is a repeated pattern. The main time he’s particularly shocked by corpses is when they were someone who was alive the last time he checked (as is the case of the Tutorial Knight). He has a calculated angle and he’s interested in what he can get from them and how it can prevent him from dying, again.

On the other hand... Prisoner equally clearly cares about people. He thinks a lot about what people wanted, felt, what choices they made. He shows a lot of interpersonal intelligence and even to people who he has every reason to not listen to, his responses tend thoughtful and he socks this information away as important in a context where he is, by necessity, otherwise rigidly focused on survival. He hates the King, but will also talk thoughtfully about the way the royals of the island lived.

And of the two elements in this juxtaposition, while survivalism and gallows humor are clearly strong threads in him... it’s clear the caring part is the larger factor of the two. It persists, while his cheerful morbidity sometimes just utterly fails.

2. The Stilt Village family

In the fishing hamlet, you can find a small house featuring a hanged woman. A letter by her feet, that the Prisoner notes are probably her last words, reads:

“The Malaise won’t get us. I’ll protect you… I’ll protect you.”

The Prisoner, our usually quite chatty protagonist, has almost nothing to say here. The closest he gets is, on examining the woman’s body, notes she “opted for the fast method” and aforementioned observation that the note is her last words.

There is also a bed in the room. Two sets of small feet poke out from under the blankets. If you examine it, Prisoner only says “throats slit.” and nothing more.

There is nothing in the room to loot, no jokes made, and the overall attitude is deeply, crushingly somber. There are closed drawers, but there’s no prompt to go through them.

If Prisoner didn’t care, this would just be more of the same, what’s three more bodies, right? But it’s clear that he isn’t just idly curious about the way people live and what they thought and felt- he has a certain amount of compassion, so that faintly nauseous feeling we get as we creep through this room is probably simpatico with our protagonist.

These people are strangers. He never knew them. They’re villagers of a fishing hamlet that was a hotbed of rebellion, and disrespectful of the king; they are small lives. They are “irrelevant people”. Mechanically, you have no gameplay incentive to stand here and look around.

But it’s clear this encounter affects Prisoner a lot emotionally. He doesn’t know who these people were, never met these kids or their presumed mother- but it’s clear he didn’t want this to have happened to them. 

In particular Prisoner seems to be disquieted by young corpses any time he finds them; the closest he comes to joking is finding the executed body that he notes is “either a dwarf, or... no more than seven or eight years old. ...Let’s... say she’s a dwarf.”

Another half-joke, also in the Stilt Village, is he finds a desperate letter to the Alchemist, written by villagers pledging their bodies to his research and begging him to save them. Prisoner notes that it’s partially damaged by water and hard to read, and then frankly follows with “I don’t think I want to understand what I read.”

This is worth noting, in particular, because we find a lot of the Alchemist’s grimoires, and he mentions his “volunteers” often- the kind of things that happen to them in particular tend to be fatal. One setup in High Peak Castle notes that those exposed to the experimental cure became twisted half-plant beings, and then as a near afterthought, notes “the subject failed to survive.”

So Prisoner- who’s just trying to save his own hide at best- is pretty strongly depicted as more upset at what happened to the villagers than the Alchemist who was trying to work on a cure. This is significant, when we happen to know said Alchemist becomes the Collector, who basically spends the entire game using Prisoner to harvest resources from corpses (the titular Cells) in exchange for better equipment. The Collector also makes it quite clear from the start he knows who Prisoner is, but is not interested in disclosing this information.

(And, if you, like me, don’t think Prisoner is the same person as the King given the wild discrepancy of personality and other evidence- when he finally does “fess up” it’s in the form of lying to Prisoner’s face)

3. Moments of anger

This is actually not one moment but several. Part of what Dead Cells does with its dialogue is convey tone and intensity by changing colors. Most text comes in blue boxes- when it’s lit in red, it’s almost always for emphasis. Especially if the textbox shakes slightly and the text scrolls faster than usual, giving it a sense of slamming into place on the screen.

In several areas- the Promenade or the Ramparts- you can find a setup of “live target training” in which a human prisoner was chained to a post, and then shot at by archers. This is at first perhaps a bit morbidly funny, given the wall behind the prisoner is littered with arrows- but, overall, it’s just dark.

In particular, a single arrow has struck the shackled prisoner. When Prisoner observes this, he notes “Only one arrow hit the target.”

Then, in shaking red text, “Right in the head.”

He then turns and faces the empty stand where the guard stood, and flashes a thumbs-up that I struggle to read as not rather scathing in its condemnation. Again- to someone who doesn’t care or thinks of this as funny, that kind of emphasis doesn’t make sense.

But even some things he says calmly seem to suggest Prisoner’s pretty angry about the whole situation- sometimes, upon finding a large gallows section, it will have an order pinned to it:

By order of the King, all persons presenting behavioural disorders or noticeable deteriorations in their appearance... shall be imprisoned, and hanged by the neck until dead. ...(If the prison doctor confirms the diagnosis of infection.)

There is a distinct beat before the last line is read, and then Prisoner’s commentary ensues:

“Glad they added that. For a second there I really thought we were talking about genocide.”

He also at one point responds to a desecrated statue of the King, defaced with “We’ll skin you alive!” by calling it a “brave and courageous statement,” and seems mildly impressed that someone peed on a royal order in the Stilt Village relatively high up. Besides that, a lot of the area flavor text talks about the abuses of the guards, and in particular in High Peak Castle, it’s noted the royal guard were pulled back into the castle when the rest of the island needed them.

In a way, the way that Prisoner uses humor often trivializes his own anger, which again, ties back to what I said in part 1: everything the game says about small lives- about the “irrelevant little people” that suffered in the wake of the plague emphasizes that Prisoner’s perspective is that he is one of those little people. In the sewers, examining a strange cocoon, Prisoner seems to have a full-on crisis about what he is and why he’s here before interrupting himself with a joke.

Someone who thinks they are important and is used to demanding others’ attention and validation doesn’t treat their own genuine anger and revulsion like it’s something to shrug off.

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Whipped Topping

Whipped Topping - DabiTwice Day 1 Prompt Fill Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: DabiTwice Summary: He’s never been a particularly good cook. Normally he had... other relatives in his life to take care of that. But he’d not opposed to the idea of trying his hand if it helps brighten up a specific someone’s day. Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more.

Trauma was a bitch and manifested in some of the weirdest ways, as Dabi had learned early on.

For him, it wasn’t the things that triggered bad memories that hurt the most. It was actually the things that brought back the happy memories - what few there had been - that hurt the most. During the winter season, the smell of hot cocoa or basically anything peppermint related were the biggest triggers. But even still, he’d end up buying a cup of cocoa or a package of peppermint sticks and partake in them, their usual flavors paired with an unpleasant bitterness that seemed to cling to the back of his throat the second he registered their existence. Did he have an explanation for why he did it to himself, despite knowing how bad it would twist up his guts? Hell No. If he did, well… No, he’d still do it anyway because he hated himself a little bit. Plus, that stinging sensation tended to be one of the few things that helped to keep him grounded when his mind teetered a little too close to the edge.

But that led him back to his current situation; preparing a place for a very befuddled Twice.

“What the fuck?” he squawked out before pausing. Dabi’s back was to him as he carefully worked the serving knife under the crust to scoop it out but he heard the chair creak as the other shifted. “Uh, Dabi, what’s this all about?”

“Relax. It’s nothing bad,” he answered, carefully moving the piece to the plate. It had been his third attempt at the damn thing, but it looked much better than its elder siblings. He picked up the canned whipped cream and added a dollop, then topped that with a little tap of cinnamon. All in all, his plan seemed to have come together surprisingly well.

“Bullshit!” Dabi snorted a bit at that response. “You’re hiding something. I’m not that dumb, you know. I know you had Spinner giving me the run-around today.”

He flanked at the other over his shoulder and flashed an amused smirk. “Just wait another minute or two and you’ll have your damn answer. Impatient ass,”

“So mean! You’re a hypocrite on the ass front, ass,” Twice quipped back, but there was no heat or malice to his words. It made Dabi’s smirk twist in to something a bit softer as he rummaged through the silverware drawer for a fork.

Bribing Spinner to keep Twice occupied hadn’t been too terribly difficult. Of all the other members of their rag-tag gaggle of complete fucking lunatics, Spinner seemed to be the most composed. Well, as composed as a lizard-esque man who toted a surplus of sharp weaponry on his person could be, anyway. No, his bigger struggle came in the forms of Toga and Compress, interestingly enough. For Toga,. He could chalk it up to her being a relatively naive little shit still. Sure, she could stab an adult twice her size and kill them in two seconds flat, but she was still a high school aged brat. He didn’t need her snooping around to ask about what he was doing and why. And Compress… Well, he was a showman at his very core. If he sensed something going on, he had to shove his way in and turn it into a three-ring circus affair.

And he didn’t need to be doing this for any of the rest of them. This was for Twice.

The guy had been in a bit of a funk lately. He wasn’t as upbeat as he usually was, bringing less energy into the group as usual. He seemed extra skittish and twitchy, like at any moment something would happen, but there didn’t seemed to be any obvious trigger. Dabi was sure the others had noticed, too, but he felt he had a bit of a better grasp. Considering he and Twice were… something, he spent most nights crammed up against the other man on a full size mattress that really wasn't meant to support two grown ass men their size. But he had noticed the guy had been particularly twitchy and plagued by nightmares over the last few weeks. He didn’t pry for answers because that wasn’t their style. Nah, instead he would simply help the other come back into his own skin and settle in. That was how they did for each other, letting them know someone was there if they needed to reach out and leaving the door open.

He picked the plate up and walked over, setting it down in front of him with a bit more care than he usually implemented. The way the other’s eyes widened was well worth it.

Pa was a fucking ass. Paid for booze instead of bills. Would knock Ma around whenever she picked the fight.

“Dabi?” he breathed, staring at the dessert settled on the plate before him.

Only time things were okay was the fall. Ma would scrunge up the money and we’d go to the market. Pick a big ass pumpkin, and she’d make baked pumpkin seeds and fresh pumpkin pie.

He rolled his shoulder and nodded his head at it. “You gonna take a bite or what? I slaved in the kitchen all day for your ass,” he quipped. He wasn’t normally the type for these kinds of gestures, but then again he’d never really had whatever it was he and Twice had. He feared putting a label on it because a part of him felt like that would just be signing the other man up for a bunch of shit he didn’t need or want. He’d do a lot of other things with him but putting a specific label to it - saying it out loud - was the one thing he couldn’t.

Pa loved that stuff so when they were in season, things were good. They weren’t perfect, but they were a lot better. Plus there was pie!

He perked up when he felt an arm loop around his waist and pull him close, the other shoving his face into his side. “Thank you, Dabi,” he mumbled, voice choked.

The other let out a small huff before setting a hand on the other’s head. “This better screw your head back on right. Someone has to keep shit energized around here,” he groused. The other chuckled and nodded, giving a squeeze before turning to finally partake in the pie, praising it for being pretty good.

And maybe Twice returned the favor a few weeks later, when Dabi hit a wall of his own and found himself being treated to a hot cocoa, but who could say?

[jeonggukingdom]

dick on the go (m)

❖ Pairing:  Taehyung x Reader 

❖ Genre: Smut, Fluff, Crack 

❖ Summary:  It was all shits and giggles when you and Taehyung were desperate seniors in High School, having no idea what to do with your lives, wondering if you’d ever find a decent job or even graduate in the first place. It is not so funny anymore when you come home from the big city to enjoy your vacation time and you find his sex-shop right in front of the house you grew up in when you were a kid. “If nothing works out I’m just gonna open a sex shop and call it something obnoxious like ‘Dick on the Go’ or something with a stupid zucchini logo flashing on top of the building.” He had said one time. Shit, you had no idea he actually meant it. ❖ Word Count: 20.752 words

❖ WARNINGS: graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, cuss words, masturbation, oral (giving/receiving), rough sex, daddy kink, use of several toys, hair pulling, a drop of orgasm denial, unprotected sex, very subtle degradation.

You take a deep breath, your gaze fixed on the familiar scenery outside the train’s window, and it almost feels like your insides are unclenching and relishing in the feeling of being free after so many months lived squished together.

You have made this journey back and forth hundred times in the past five years or so and you know every inch of the road by memory but it doesn’t hinder its healing effects on both your body and mind.

The ride is a couple of hours long but you do enjoy every last bit of it, at least when it’s bringing you back home.

Your home is more than just a place with four walls and a roof on top, no, home is your roots an, ultimately, that inner part of you, the true self you are forced to hide under fake masks to survive in the city.

Big cities can be beautiful, definitely entertaining and fun to go to because they offer so many possibilities but they also require for you to have a shield around your heart, a persona to protect your inner and most delicate self for there is no space for peculiarity among thousands and thousands of similar-looking people. You are simply a part of the mass that nobody would recognize or even care to.

There was a time when you felt like a big fish in a very small pond but after living in the city for such a long time you came to realize you are nothing but a very tiny drop into the endless sea. Insignificant, quickly replaceable and definitely not that unique.

In your hometown, there are many that envy your work, your reputation and there are many more that strive to arrive where you did, to leave the countryside and become a person of the city.

It’s not that you hate the city per-say, you wouldn’t live there if that were to be the case, but in your far smaller hometown it feels like you can breathe again as if you were holding your breath for a long time without even realizing it.

Every mile the train eats with its speed is one step closer to freedom and Lord knows how much you have missed this feeling.

The day is coming to an end when you finally arrive at the train station, sky tinted in bright hues of orange and pink, and you breathe in loudly, closing your eyes in the process. The countryside’s air beats the city’s one hands down.

You drag your suitcase behind your back, instantly regretting putting so much stuff in there when you’re going to stay for only a week but, in your defense, it is something you have picked up in the big city. Always be prepared for every occasion, they taught you and, some habits, honestly, are hard to vanquish.

A taxi is not something hard to find outside the train station and you feel an exhilarating excitement when you realize you won’t have to launch yourself inside a cab and you also won’t have to argue with somebody else to take their seat or keep yours and, honestly, it’s a mother-fucking-dream.

The little city tour on the cab is a classic when you come back and it’s not like you don’t have people that would come to pick you up if you asked.

But on a cab, you can ask a stranger to take the longer route and they wouldn’t care too much about it, especially when they can get more money out of it. It is stupid, there is no doubt about it, but you miss the neighborhoods you used to walk by every day, you miss your favorite shops and even the outline of your High School in the middle of the city.

The street that leads to your house is quiet and it’s a stark contrast with the crowd and loudness you are used to experiencing in front of your apartment building down to the big city and, even that desolation is something you have utterly missed. Some well deserved peace, at last.

The driver leaves you a few houses down your own, complying with your request, and you stretch your arms widely, a smile plastered on your lips.

Despite the heavy bag behind your back, you walk serenely on the sidewalk, enjoying the warm air that caresses your face and relish in the familiar sight of the houses you have known for all your life.

You have walked these steps thousands of times, hell, you have run on this street hundreds of times to sneak out of your room at night or even to sneak back in before you were caught.

So many good memories. Yes, all of them. You have found out later in life that even those embarrassing moments, even the ones you wanted to forget with all your might when you were younger they have all turned into memories you cherish deeply within your heart because, whether they were bad or really good, they still shaped you in who you are today and they all belong to a time of your life that was far more simple than your adult one.

You are almost out of breath when you reach your front yard, your suitcase lying at your side in all its heaviness and you take a moment to breathe back in and look around and familiarize back with the houses you have frequented a ton of times as a kid.

Your gaze crosses the street and a smile stretches on your lips as it stills on the house of your best friend since middle school.

Oh, what a short-lived smile yours is when you finally register the change at the other side of the road.

Right across from your eyes there is a house but it is not the one you have known your whole life, oh no. This building is new and that would be almost interesting if it weren’t for the neon logo shining above its white walls.

 Finals were close, almost too close actually, and you were cramming like crazy, sprawled on the floor of your bedroom with the hope that the discomfort your body was in would keep you awake and focused enough for you to keep on studying.

Your best friend, Taehyung, was lying much more comfortably on your bed, loudly playing video-games on his phone.

“You should study too, you know?” You reprimanded, cringing at the way you sounded just like your mother, and he whined like a little kid would have, slightly pouting in your general direction.

“I don’t wanna.”

“Well, you gotta! What if we fail all of our exams and we don’t get to graduate? And what if we do graduate but not a single University wants us? And what if we can’t get a decent job or even a job to being with?”

You felt your lungs constrict at all the bad scenarios playing in your head like a bad omen.

“God, you’re stressing me out,” he groaned out, not even bothering to look at you, eyes still pretty glued over his phone screen.

“That’s because you should? Like everyone else? How are you so freaking calm?!”

You closed your book a little bit to forcefully and literally flung yourself on your bed, right next to him to take a peek at the game he was playing.

“Well, I have a backup plan, that’s why.”

“What backup plan?”

You could swear to God it was your first time hearing the existence of a backup plan and it almost made you feel stupid for not having one as well.

“If nothing works out I’ll probably just mop floors at Starbucks for a couple of years, just enough for me to have some money and open up my own shop.”

“Your own shop?” Oh, how that stung your heart. Not because it was a dream of yours but because you hadn’t known he wanted one for himself? You genuinely thought you knew everything about Kim Taehyung. Well, maybe because he knew everything about you.

“Yeah, if nothing works out I’m just gonna open a sex shop and call it something obnoxious like ‘Dick on the Go’ or something with a stupid zucchini logo flashing on top of the building.” He put the phone down and raised his eyebrows at you, fighting hard not to laugh in your face.

“Oh my fucking God!” You threw your cushion on his nose, making him yelp in surprise before starting laughing at you and your rage while simultaneously trying to defend himself and pin you down on the mattress.

“Jokes on me for trying to have a serious conversation with bloody Kim Taehyung!”

You hissed, trapped under his far stronger hands but, truthfully, that was just the beginning of an endless afternoon spent doing anything but study.

Fighting with cushions and call each other silly names was the outcome of one of your last days together as seniors in High School and for a very long time, you considered that day to be one of the happiest of your life as a teenager.

 Your mouth is agape and you realize how silly you must look standing there, looking like you just saw a ghost or something far more horrifying, but you find yourself incapable of moving a single muscle while still in the process of realizing what you are looking at.

A green zucchini intermittently flashes before you, topped by a blue fixed writing that reads ‘Dick on the Go’ in a fancy calligraphy font.

All the stillness of your body washes out in an instant, subdued by utter rage.

“Fucking Kim Taehyung!” you shriek out loud, stomping your feet on the ground like a goddamn kid, and you find yourself crossing the street in an instant, your luggage is already forgotten. It is a mistake you would never make in the big city where thieves lurk in the dark every second of the day, waiting for a little distraction to steal anything they can from you, even your undergarments if they can reach far enough.

Oh, the beauty of a chill countryside, you’d think when finding your belongings still there later that day but, in the current moment, all thoughts that don’t contemplate murdering your best friend are inconsequential.

You stomp on the concrete floor with the grace of a bull in a china shop and only come to a halt when you are facing the closed door of the shop.

Of course, working hours have come to an end with the end of the day and you are about to give up and move on to plan B — which would include screaming your lungs out to him over the phone while you walk to reach his house and wrap your hands around his neck — when you notice a cardboard sheet hanging from the door.

It looks utterly obnoxious and made by a five-year-old with a passion for pink, purple and Barbies but the little penises designed around it turn it utterly disturbing.

‘Ring to the back entrance’ it reads and oh, you motherfucking will.

You walk around the house, your vision turned red by fury and anyone close enough to see the look on your face would realize you are out for blood.

You stop in front of a small door tinted in a bright fuchsia color and you impatiently ring the bell, feet stomping on the ground as you struggle to keep your rage at bay until the catalyst of it all shows up at the door.

He does, in fact, show up but all words are trapped in your throat the moment you realize he is dressed in nothing but a white bathrobe.

“Oh! ______, I didn’t know you were coming!” He says, smiling one of his dazzling smiles that would usually fool you but that now makes you even more baffled because he doesn’t seem at all fazed by his lack of proper clothing.

“What the hell is going on here? I thought you were still working at Starbucks?” You finally ask, though far more quietly than you first intended it to be.

“Oh, yeah, I didn’t tell you about this,” he gestures to the building with a glint of pride in both his mannerism and his voice, “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Oh, you most definitely succeeded,” you mutter to yourself as he ushers you inside the shop.

You are suddenly made aware of the loud music playing inside of it and as you follow him behind a curtain you realize the shop isn’t just a shop. It’s a bloody nightclub.

The floors are black and the lights are a pretty shade of pink, lighting up a stage where models stand in their flimsy underwear and you feel like gagging on your own breath because you weren’t ready at all for the spectacle before your very eyes.

“I’m very sorry I have to leave you like this but I have a show to host tonight!”

Taehyung half-shouts in your ears and you are about to retort something or, rather, you’re about to ask him a gazillions questions but he disappears before you can even stop him and oh-my-God-what-in-the-world-is-he-doing? Is your next thought as you watch him take off his robe to stand on the stage in nothing but a flimsy thong that conceals pretty much nothing at all and yes, Taehyung is handsome, he has always been, but he’s like a brother to you and now you want to pull your motherfucking eyes out of their sockets and forget you have ever seen any of this.

His voice booms through the small club, amplified by the microphone, and the small crowd cheers loudly for him.

You only then realize that many of these people, both men and women, you actually know and, Lord, why can’t the ground just swallow you whole right now so that you can pretend in the morning that this was all just a really weird dream?

The music gets louder in your ears and you start to fear it may turn you deaf at this rate but you have no time to indulge in the thought before Taehyung starts introducing the ‘items’, as he so lovely introduced them, exhibited on the stage.

What you thought to be a club turns out to be a place where he shows off the most recent acquires of his shop and, despite the line of work, you do have to admit that it is rather genius, especially when the product is hanging nicely on the body of hot models, not even you can resist from goggling at.

A pretty girl with skin white as ivory and hair dark as coal is elegantly walking on the stage in a black laced bust that has everything covered but what it’s supposed to cover. Her breasts look nice, granted, framed in lace and nips covered by two little dots of black but it makes you feel wildly conscious of the way your body would look in that tiny little thing and it’s a thought you��d rather avoid dwelling on to.

The next model is a tall man, all muscles and tan skin, and you try with all your might to look away from him but you find it impossible to do when he’s dressed in nothing but a few strings of leather, shaped to look like a harness, and his member is barely concealed by his own hand. He looks like a Greek statue and you find yourself almost drooling over the nice shape of his ass but that’s before your eyes land on his balls, so out in the open it makes your cheeks feel as warm as a thousand suns.

You watch almost the entirety of the show, unable to look away from any of it but you do draw the line once he presents the newest sex toy of the month: “the magic tongue.”

With dread you watch the spectators come closer to the stage to watch the little item with wild curiosity and a shiver runs down your spine not because sex toys are something you have never seen, or tried, but because you have no idea how you will be able to look any of these people in the eyes after tonight without thinking back to this very moment.

Taehyung’s voice, the booming music and the faint chit-chat of people all mix together in a cacophony of sounds you are more than happy to tune out while focusing your eyes on the walls behind your back, finally noticing how big this place must be to not only be a shop in the front, but also some sort of club in the back.

A hand comes in touch with your shoulder and you jump on the spot, turning around with your fists turned up high because that’s another amazing lesson the city has taught you but, obviously, it is not a threat but just a very confused Taehyung that is facing you.

“Woah, calm down, what is it with the fists?”

“Sorry, it’s a habit,” you reply, blood rushing to your face and turning it feverish to the touch.

He decides not to comment on your words but he can’t hide the flick of concern inside his eyes and your heart warms up for it but, of course, it is not even remotely enough to quench your anger.

“We should probably go somewhere quieter so we can talk,” he says, instead, and you nod your head in agreement while trying to ignore the sounds of excitement coming from what you suppose you could call dance floor.

“Ok, wait for me in front of the shop’s door, I’ll be there in a second.”

“I swear to God Taehyung if you turn right n-” your words get stuck in your throat as he does precisely what you asked him not to do and your eyes inevitably gaze down to the exposed curve of his ass and, awfully, to his sack.

Your hands fly to your face to cover your eyes while you groan out loud, wishing you could pour acid in those eyeballs and remove the memory from your consciousness.

“Ah, so dramatic,” he says, chuckling, “It’s just an ass, plus, you know I have a fine one.”

You peek through your open fingers just in time to watch him loudly smack his own bottom cheeks and you struggle not to gag at the image forever printed inside your brain.

“I hope you realize you just scarred me for life!”

He laughs loudly at your words but does not stop walking down the corridor that has led you to the club but, this time, he’s following the opposite direction and you wonder why he just didn’t let you tag along up to the shop.

Either way, you do not question it too much and when you hear a woman shriek loudly in excitement inside the club you take it as your cue and leave the place with fast steps.

The air feels nice again on your hot skin and you take a few moments to breathe in loudly in the vain attempt to process all that has happened in the span of less than thirty minutes since your return.

Your steps feel heavy as you walk back to the front door, the number of questions swirling in your mind increasing with each passing second.

The door flies open the moment you arrive in front of it and it’s with utter relief that you notice your best friend is now dressed in a simple black tracksuit like any other normal person out there.

He welcomes you with one of his infamous rectangular smiles and you inevitably feel your heart soften for it, your anger dissipating slowly the more you look at it. It’s like looking at the sun after being stuck in the rain for months and you kind of hate him for it. Kim Taehyung is a bloody ray of sunshine and he has always had this power over you and your emotions and, rumors say nobody can really stay mad at him for a very long time. And you most definitely fit in the rumor.

You follow him inside the shop and it takes a lot of self-preservation to not glance around the many items on the shelves, right at the corners of your eyes.

It is not like you have never seen a sex toy, or try to use one for that matter, but there is something about being in a sexy shop with your best friend that unsettles you. You had never thought you’d grow up to be a prude, honestly, but evidently, you had been wrong because everything about this situation makes you uncomfortable to a whole new level.

“No more moping the floors, uh?” You say to break off the silence and he chuckles, gesturing at his shop with so much pride you almost feel compelled to compliment him on it.

“I told you I had a backup plan, didn’t I?” He asks and there is mirth in both his eyes and the curve of his lips and you feel the anger seep back in through your bones.

“Yeah, when we were two stupid kids about to graduate.”

Your voice tone comes out harsher than you intend it to be and it successfully wipes away the smile from Taehyung’s features and you feel a pang of guilt within your heart over it.

Kim Taehyung has always been the type to do whatever he wants despite what people think but he has also always been the type that can be easily hurt but people’s words and their expectations of him. It must be like a knife cutting through his skin for you to turn into just another person that does not understand him nor support him.

“Well, yeah, we were kids and probably very stupid but this idea, this... project is probably one of the best things I ever thought of,” his eyes narrow on you as you shake your head, finally taking a glance over the shop.

It is big and full of all the things you would want from a sexy shop. The floor and walls are painted black but the shelves are a nice neon pink that makes the toys pop out even more and you would never admit it out loud but it does look quite good.

“A sexy shop, Taehyung.” You say, your voice still cutting through his skin and you sadly watch him trouble his bottom lip whilst looking for the right words.

“So what? It’s still a business... a quite good one if I dare say so myself.”

“Oh, you mean with all the horny women in the back drooling over your models or, worse, your naked ass?”

There is something about your words that seems to flare him up, strike a hot spot and start the flames of a raging fire within his heart.

“Seriously, ______, when was the last time you didn’t have a stick up your ass?”

Your mouth opens to retort something witty and intelligent but the words seem to be stuck in your throat for a bit too long and you have to close it again, letting silence fall between you two.

“Why in front of my house, though? Like, it’s not even in the center of the city or around other shops?”

“Ah, I see, that’s what’s bothering you?” He tilts his head to the side and scoffs, incredulity written all over his face.

“Well, I have been moping floors for years now and yes, I did save up a nice amount of money but not enough for me to be picky so I’m sorry if my little shop here offends your...” he fixes his gaze over the tenseness of your body and the way you tap nervously on the floor, looking for the right word to describe you, “Prudery.”

“I’m not a prude Taehyung, it’s just weird to me, ok? I never thought you meant to actually open a sexy shop, especially not with that obnoxious name and you can’t get offended by that because it’s exactly how you defined it yourself back then,” you point a finger up to his chest and a small smile appears back on his features, “And I didn’t expect it to be right in front of the house I grew up in, we grew up in and I most definitely did not expect to see your balls out and about tonight, thank you very much for the horrific memory, by the way.”

By the time you end your speech, he is laughing and you can’t help but laugh with him too because it all still feels so surreal you could wake up any time now and realize it was all just a weird-ass dream.

“Well, when you put it like that,” he concedes but he smirks slightly and it makes you shiver because you know oh-too-well that glint in his eyes and you don’t like it in the least.

“When was the last time you had a good fuck, though?”

“Excuse me?” You try to ignore the way your cheeks seem to catch on fire as blood rushes all to your head because oh, that struck a nerve.

“You look so tense and on edge...” He continues, tilting his head to the side as to study you further, “In my experience, that’s a giving sign of sexual frustration.”

“Oh my fucking God I’m going to murder your sorry ass,” you growl and launch yourself at him just like you used to when you were both kids that relished in pissing off each other.

“Oh come on, ______, I’ve known you since you were like, five, you don’t need to be embarrassed!”

He is laughing as you try to strangle him, very unimpressed by your physical strength.

There had been a time when you had been stronger than him but those days are long over now that he is a grown man that also happened to discover the existence of a gym.

“Seriously, though, you should really loosen up a bit, you’re like in constant rage mode.”

You growl at him, almost wishing your nails were long and pointy like the ones you see every girl in the city sporting and a part of you now understands why. Oh, you’d definitely put them to good use right now.

“Ok, fine, fine! I won’t mention your sexual life or lack thereof anymore, I promise.”

You side-eye him but still let go of his shirt and he exhales loudly, taking a curious look around the room.

“But,” he starts and you scoff at him, ready to assault him anew if he decides to push your boundaries again, “I gifted something to all my friends so I don’t see why you should make an exception.”

There it is again, the little sting. His friends, the ones that knew about this, the ones that probably helped him and cheered him up. The ones that were there when he finally opened the shop and the ones that were there to congratulate him.

It makes you think a lot whether it was really because he wanted to surprise you or because he knew you’d react like this once you found out.

“You can pick anything you want from the shelves, it’s all on me.”

“What? You want me to pick a sex toy?” You ask, bewildered as he motions through the shelves, encouraging you to take a look.

“Well, that’s what I sell so I don’t see why not.”

You scoff and shake your head and this time it is not because of your so-called prudery but because you know for a fact those things have no effect on you.

“What?” He asks and you don’t like the hint of mockery you can hear in his voice, “Don’t tell me... you never used one before?”

“Oh my God, you are impossible!”

He laughs at you, pointing his finger now that he is wrongly and completely sure you have never seen, touched or used any of the things he sells.

“I have tried them if you really must know, but they are not that special.” You regret this confession the moment his features shift, turning from mirth to disbelief as the depth behind them gets clearer in his head.

“Wait, you mean you never... you know?”

His mouth is agape and it makes you want to punch him in the face because one, he looks like a poor meme of a fish and two because you can feel the moment he’ll start to ridicule you coming closer.

“What? I have never what?” You hiss, your face feeling as hot as the bloody sun due to the embarrassment.

“You never had an orgasm with any toy?” He inquires further, looking at you as if you are some rare creature he has never seen before and deeply wants to study now that he has discovered it.

All you want to do is disappear and forget this whole talk that just happened and you sure as hell do not want to answer his question but, somehow, your mouth opens and the words come out in a strangled whisper before you can usher them back in.

“I’m not even sure I ever had an orgasm at all...”

“Wait, are you serious right now or are you just shitting me?” He looks almost comical in his flabbergasted state and, honestly, if it wasn’t your sexual life being judged you would probably laugh at him but mirth is not something you manage to feel when your eyes are watering with frustration and shame.

“Taehyung!” You whine, your eyes fixing on your shoes because you seriously can’t look him in the eyes now, if ever again.

“Oh my God you are serious, wow, that is so sad.” You can feel your heart falling in your chest at his words and you don’t even know why you care about his opinion on this particular matter but the pity in his voice awakens something within you, something you ignored for a very long time.  

“What lousy fuckers have you met in the city, seriously.” He presses forward and you can hear a hint of laughter in his voice or maybe it truly is just your imagination but it is enough to drive you away from the scenery and probably never return again.

“Ok, this is where I draw the line, I’m leaving, good-fucking-bye.”

You turn on your heels, aiming for the door but you are kept in place by his firm hand around your wrist.

“Wait, wait, wait,” His voice sounds softer to your ears and you let that timbre fool you enough for you to turn around, ready to listen to his next words.

You turn in time to see him grab a toy from one of the top shelves right next to you and your blood starts to boil in your veins. You are one second away from being outraged and railed up enough to attempt murdering him again.

“Before you go, take this, I swear to God you will thank me in the morning.”

With a devilish smile, he puts a pink vibrator in your hands and you can’t help yourself but look at it and notice the shape of two rabbit ears at the end of the long shaft. It doesn’t look like anything you have ever used and it also looks mildly terrifying because you have no idea how to use the damn thing.

“Taehyung...” You hiss, glaring at him in a way you hope is going to be enough for him to drop the subject but you obtain quite the contrary effect.

He hits his forehead with the palm of his hand and turns around to grab a bottle you are far too familiar with. Lube.

“I almost forgot, you’ll probably need this as well.”

You hate the feigned innocence in his expression and oh, how badly you want to punch it off of him.

“Taehyung, I swear if you don’t cut the shit I’ll make you swallow the damn thing.”

“Hot.” He muses, chuckling.

“Taehyung!”

“Can you please indulge me for just one time?” His eyes turn a bit more serious and you unconsciously start to trouble your bottom lip, hating yourself because you are still considering his offer despite the terrible experiences you have had before.

“If you seriously hate it you can come here tomorrow morning and throw the bloody thing in my face and I won’t stop you. Deal?”

You don’t know if it’s the prospect of hitting him with a vibrator that convinces you or maybe that innate desire of always being on the winning side but before you can realize in what kind of situation you are throwing yourself in, you open your mouth and successfully put a gravestone on your tomb.

“Deal.”

The moon shines brightly in the sky as you leave Taehyung’s shop, walking as fast as your feet allow you to so that nobody will be able to spot the shop’s logo on the plastic bag you’re clutching to your chest like your life depends on it.

It is only when you arrive in front of your yard that you realize your luggage has been abandoned there for quite a long time and it’s with subsequent relief that you notice not a single thing appears to be missing nor out of place.

You sigh heavily and decidedly open up your suitcase to shove inside the vibrator your best friend has just gifted you because yes, you are an adult and your parents are not oblivious to your active sexual life — despite it being very flat and very close to non-existent — but you really do not wish to let them know any details of that portion of your life if you can help it.

You put a smile on your face and gingerly walk to your door, trying to gain back the feeling of easiness and happiness that usually comes with your arrival back home.

The doorbell rings through the house and its sound alone throws you back in time when you were a kid dying to hear that sound because it meant your friends — well, Taehyung, at least — had come to play and you could escape the confinements of your room and boredom to play with them.

Your mother opens the door and a smile stretches immediately on her features, so similar to your own you can’t help but mirror it and then throw your arms against her frame, hugging her close to your chest because you have missed her, her perfume, her meals and everything you wanted to get away from when you were younger and ready to take over the world.

Despite the ups and downs of your arrival, the evening passes quickly in the company of your lovely parents and it feels nice to talk about everyday stuff without filters and it also feels nice to just sit in silence in front of the tv, relishing in each others’ presence and warmth.

Your room looks just like you have left it when you went away for college and even after so many years you can’t find the will to change it yourself. You grew up, of course, many of the clothes in the wardrobe do not even fit you anymore and you certainly have changed your tastes in music over time. Overall, it almost looks like the bedroom of someone foreign but, you like it just the way it is because every detail inside of it is so personal and it was so carefully chosen back then that your heart warms with memories every time your eyes land on something you didn’t remember being there.

Your bedroom in the city looks nice, just like a picture out of a magazine but it doesn’t have personality nor something that screams your name to whoever may walk in it and that’s why you will never change this room right here, even when it clearly belongs to a seventeen-year-old senior girl about to graduate and leave for college.

You close the door behind your back and hop onto the bed, relishing in how soft it feels under your tired body and most importantly how freshly cleaned it smells like. You know your mother still cleans your room as if you live with them and it makes you feel guilty at times, especially when you are away, but when you are back it’s like a bloody dream. Everything is tidy and smells wonderful and even that is something very different from what you are used to in the city.

Your mother would probably scold you to no end if she could see the state you left your apartment in. But sometimes, when the workday gets too long and you are too tired, honestly, being tidy is not your number one priority and it clearly shows when you muster the courage to clean everything and return your place to a decent one.

You huff and sprawl on the bed, legs and arms wide on its surface as you stare at the ceiling, a pout on your mouth.

Ever since you walked through the door of your childhood house all you can think about is the secret held inside your suitcase and what you are going to do with it.

You rest on your side and lock your gaze on your luggage, rummaging through the many things that could go wrong if you happen to decide to try out the so-called gift Taehyung has given you.

You could lie, you think. You could tell him it didn’t work for you in the morning and just leave it at that.

It would be a good solution but there is this part of you that is curious and there’s also this tiny part of you that wants it to work. You have tried stuff, you have been with a decent amount of men and at some point in your life you decided to give it up because clearly, pleasure wasn’t something you could achieve sexually.

But what if it doesn’t have to be like this?

You bite your bottom lip, still unsure on what to do and after long minutes you get off your bed in frustration and almost rip open the luggage to get to the object of your desire.

Your heart is hammering in your chest even though you know your parents are sound asleep but still, the idea of them catching you trying to pleasure yourself in your childhood bedroom scares you to no end. And you would never admit it aloud, but it excites you too in some twisted way.

You dim the lights in your room to create some sort of atmosphere whilst feeling extremely stupid the whole time. You are incredibly awkward and if Taehyung could see you right now he’d probably laugh his ass off.

“This is so stupid,” you mutter to yourself as you get under the covers, trying to relax and stop thinking about what you want or not want to happen.

You wet your lips and take a deep breath and, lord, it almost feels like losing your virginity all over again because the knot inside your stomach is as tight as it was back then.

“It’s just a fucking sex toy, it’s not rocket science.” You hiss to yourself as you uncap the bottle of lube, quickly spreading it on the rabbit-looking toy within your hands.

You gulp down and turn it on, always the control freak that needs to know exactly what is going to happen and how it is going to happen all the bloody time.

You marvel at the little rabbit ears, vibrating alongside with the shaft and you finally realize their purpose and boy, is that excitement that you feel building between your legs?

You have felt desire before, you have felt need but it never culminated into an orgasm or even a hint of pleasure before and you don’t know if it’s because Taehyung was so shocked by your confession or what but, for the first time in a very long time, you want that to change. Tonight.

You quickly get out of your pajama pants and proceed to remove your underwear which, with mild surprise, you notice to be wet with your arousal.

You stroke your sex a few times to make the lube’s job easier and, breathing in, you start working the vibrator in.

The shaft is still as you carefully move it past your folds and you are almost surprised by how your walls stretch around it without much resistance and it makes you wonder: did really the prospect of changing things aroused you this much?

You shake your head, pushing all thoughts out of it to focus only on your pleasure and what feels good at this moment.

The vibrator is well sheathed inside of you when you finally decide to turn it on, the rabbit ears slightly pressed over your mound.

The vibrations take you by surprise because they come in not-synchronized waves so that your presumably pleasure spots are continuously stimulated and you have no time to concentrate too much on either of them.

You rest your body against the mattress and close your eyes, relaxing the muscles of your neck as you give in to the idea of finally unlocking something within you.

Your fingers blindly play with the settings of the toy and you let your body decide what feels best for it, for once letting everything but your mind do the work.

The slight curve of the vibrator hits a particularly sensitive spot within you and you find yourself sighing at the sensation. Your eyes open as you realize the sound that just came out of your mouth and your heart starts hammering in your chest.

You push the vibrator further within you, searching with its head that delightful spot again so you can experience that sensation again and give it a name and oh, when you do, a closed window seems to open within you, finally letting the sun in where once there was only darkness.

The rabbit-like ears vibrate and turn around your mound and even that sensation is suddenly a pleasurable one and not something that leaves you completely indifferent.

Your eyes close as you twist around the settings a little more, making the vibrations stronger and quicker and Lord, how good that feels.

Is this why people are so fixated with sex? Is this what other people had been experiencing all along? Because it is utter bliss and oh, you so do not want it to stop.

You find yourself emitting sounds you had no idea you could produce and you tilt your head to the side to bite down on your cushion and stifle them enough for your parents to remain asleep.

You can feel the pleasure building within you in foreign waves that you have no idea how to control or to handle and, for the first time in your life, you don’t even want to. It feels good to give in, to let something do its work and take control over you and, as you completely give in into this moment, that’s when the orgasm surprisingly arrives, tinting everything white and turning your body into a quivering mess.

You can feel your juices dripping down between your legs but you can’t find in yourself the will to care about it, your mind still hazed by the intense release you have been waiting for years.

You don’t remember after how long you finally get up, clean yourself and hide the toy inside your purse but in the morning, you can clearly recall all the events that led to your very first orgasm and most importantly, how amazing you felt right after.

The sun shines brightly high up in the sky as you briskly cross the street to knock on your best friend’s shop door, his little gift secretly tugged inside your purse, away from prying eyes.

You stop in front of the door, troubling your bottom lip as you take side glances to the street in nervousness. It takes you a few seconds and a lot of controlled breaths for you to push the door open and enter inside the obnoxious shop again.

It is with utter relief that you notice not a single client is there at this early hour and you quickly walk to Taehyung, sitting on the counter with the most heinous smirk you have had the misfortune to witness.

“Oh, look who has returned,” he says, assessing you with his attentive gaze and as his lips curve deeper you know he has already realized he has won the first round in this battle.

“Wipe off that awful smirk off of your face,” you hiss, putting the wrapped up toy on the counter with a little too much enthusiasm.

“I will if you admit I won.”

Oh, if you could erase that smug expression out of his face you would definitely do it. If there is something that everyone around you knows is that you’re a very sour loser and you hate being wrong. Of course, Taehyung knows this very well too and he never drops the chance to rub his win to your face whenever he can.

“It wasn’t a competition.” You hiss, your face feeling feverish hot with the blood that has rushed there from both the rage and the shame.

He cocks his eyebrow at you, tilting his head to the side with a knowing look in his eyes.

“Oh, but it would have been if you had won, or am I mistaken?” He calmly speaks those words but you can sense the mirth laced in them.

“Shut up and tell me how you did it.”

“How I did what?” This time there is no hilarity hidden in his words but true bewilderment.

“You know... made me...?” Your voice is barely above a whisper and the words you speak feel as tight in your throat as rocks would have.

You watch his eyebrows shoot up in realization and his mouth falling agape as he finally picks up all the pieces of the puzzle and puts them together.

“Wait, you really weren’t shitting me last night? You mean... I gave you your first orgasm?!”

You know there isn’t a single living soul inside the shop right about now but you still hiss at him, looking around just to make sure it is a secret known only by him and not the rest of the city.

Your heart hammers in your chest and your head sinks between your shoulders. You have no idea why it feels so shameful to admit that aloud but it does and you find yourself unable to hold his gaze now that the secret is out.

“Oh Lord, poor thing.”

You hate the pity in his voice and the way your body reacts to it: shrinking in itself a little bit more as if it was trying to disappear into itself and never be seen again.

Your eyes shoot up and your knuckles turn white around the counter as you try to gain back that menacing look you had on just yesterday when you first discovered this place.

“Taehyung for the love of God can you stop making fun on my sexual life?”

Your best friend sighs, nodding his head a little as he finally takes into account your feelings, hopefully moving aside the fact that, indeed, it was thanks to him that you finally discovered what pleasure feels like.

“I’m sorry it’s just that... how? I mean, I get lousy sex partners but not even your nice fingers could do the job?”

Oh, you were wrong. You thought he was going to drop the bloody subject and just make you pry to his secrets but no, more awkward questions are leaving his mouth and you honestly have not a single answer to give.

“I don’t know how! If I had known we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, would we?”

“True.”

Silence falls between you two and you start troubling your bottom lip until you can feel the awful taste of copper in your mouth and that seems to be the catalyst to your will to pose the question anew.

“So, how did you do it?”

Taehyung smiles as he unwraps the toy from the pink bag, looking at it as if it were a piece of art and you almost gag on air at the sight of him, so entranced by a bloody vibrator.

“Well, this little toy right here is one of the ladies’ favorite so, there’s that,” He says before putting it back down with a slight pout on his mouth, “But I can’t give you the answers you need, _____.”

Your brows knit and he shakes his head before sighing, finally looking somewhat serious.

“Pleasure comes in different ways for everyone. What feels good to you may feel awful or like nothing to me and vice versa. There is no rule or equation to solve in a matter like this.”

A few seconds pass as you ponder his words and you watch with dread a little smirk forming on his lips.

“But...”

“But?”

“I bet I can make you come again, multiple times.”

Your saliva seems to get stuck in your throat in a vain attempt to suffocate you and honestly, if survival instinct and all that shit didn’t exist, you’d gladly let it because this is not how you wanted this whole conversation to be like.

“Multiple times?” You snicker at him, your eyes glossy with the aftermath of your almost-suffocation.

“Yes.”

“Oh, please, Taehyung, don’t get ahead of yourself,” you promptly reply, trying to hide the way your body has tensed after his words because, lord, what would you do to know how that feels like when a single orgasm has turned your whole world upside down.

“Want to bet?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. The little fucker knows all your weak points and oh, do you love to win bets but, this time there is something stopping you from quickly accepting the challenge.

“No?! What’s in it for me... no wait, what do you want?” Your eyes narrow at him and he chuckles slightly, suddenly assuming his most fake innocent look ever.

“Well, if you win, I will move my shop somewhere far from your childhood home so you don’t have to look at my hideous logo ever again.” A devilish smirk twists his features and a shiver runs down your spine as he opens his mouth again, his voice incredibly low and laced with something you can only address as desire, “But if I win I get to fuck you every night until you leave for the city again.”

“What?!” To say that you are shocked would be an understatement. Of all the things he could have asked for he asks for... sex? With you?

“These are my terms.” He simply states and you hate how calm he looks when your heart is beating like a fucking drum inside your chest.

“Deal.” You hiss because truly, you would do anything now to break his confidence and bend his ego.

“Really?” You relish in the surprised look on his face and you smirk because you may go down but oh, you will go down fighting.

“Yeah, there is no way you’re going to win this and I can’t wait to kick your sorry ass away from my neighbor.”

“OK, then. Meet me here tonight at nine. I’m going to give you the most toe-curling orgasm you will ever experience.”

You leave the shop with rage written all over your face but you can’t hide to yourself the way excitement has coiled in your insides in utter anticipation and you hate him for it because you don’t want to lose the bet but, at the same time, everything makes you wonder if it would really be a loss in the first place.

 You stand in front of the mirror feeling like the stupidest human being to ever walk the Earth because one, you have accepted a bet with your best friend that includes sex in it and two, because you are actually dressing up for it.

The black and dangerously slow dress fits your body to perfection: it is tight around your waist and wide on your hips, successfully helping in creating that perfect hourglass figure you always desired to possess; it nicely hugs your breasts, turning them into something inviting even to your own eyes and it leaves your collarbone and neck completely free and naked which is something you have learned boys love to see.

Boys. Not Taehyung. Not your best friend.

You stare at your red lips, matched with the cherries printed on your dress and you move to smear it away from your mouth and forget you ever put it there.

It feels stupid to dress up for him when you had never had any desire to be with him in the first place and it feels even more stupid because this is not a date, this is a silly little game you still have to decide whether you want to win or lose.

“What are you even doing...” You whisper to yourself, shaking your head. It had been a provocative bet for him but, had he stopped to ponder what it was going to imply in the future?

You are going to have sex with your best friend and you already know, acting like it never happened won’t be possible regardless of the final outcome.

If you win the bet it means you spent another night with a man incapable of giving you pleasure and if you lose, you will have to fuck said man for an entire week and then leave for the city as if nothing ever occurred between the two of you.

This is fucked up, you find yourself thinking and yet, you can’t find the will in you to stop it nor to remove the obnoxious red tint from your lips because, after all, if you have to go down you’ll make sure to bring him down with you.

You already know he’s going to tease you, to provoke you until you can’t take any more and making yourself as tempting as possible seems like the only solution to get back to him. Making him want you like a woman and not like some twisted up experiment of some sort.

Fiery determination sets back into your heart, subduing the doubts and fears until you are briskly walking across the street, your eyes set on the turned off lights of the shop and on what awaits you behind that closed door.

You have to take a few small breaths before you can knock on the door and you find yourself jumping in surprise when it immediately opens to reveal Taehyung standing there with a playful smile on his lips.

The moonlight shines on his golden skin and you really don’t know if some kind of magic is at work tonight but, you swear to God he looks so inviting with his tussled ash blonde hair and deep black eyes, standing in front of you with a simple pair of black pants and a white slightly unbuttoned shirt.

“Come in,” he simply says, pushing the door ajar to make space for you and you silently accept his invite, stepping into the shop with a trembling heart.

The lights that you thought to be turned off when looking at the shop from the outside reveal themselves to be pretty dim and a nice shade of pink and you find yourself liking the nice atmosphere they create.

“You look lovely,” he says, one of his hands behind your back to guide you forward and you stumble on your words, unsure whether or not you should accept the compliment or not.

“Wow, you are tense, ok,” he chuckles and you feel your face turning hot to the touch.

“Aren’t you?” You ask in a breath, turning towards him to study his face.

He tilts his head to the side and slightly shakes his head, pouting towards you as he does when he’s deep in thought.

“I mean, maybe I’m a little nervous, yeah, but definitely not as much as you are.” He playfully smiles at you and you roll your eyes to the ceiling, huffing in response.

“What? Afraid you’re going to lose?” He teases you further, winking at you and you feel your blood boil in your veins because you’d like a nice and intelligent retort but you have none to give when you’re not sure what you’re afraid of in the first place.

“Aaand, that’s my cue, good-fucking-bye,” you hiss, turning on your heels because, honestly, running away from this evident mistake seems like the only intelligent decision you’ve made in like the past two days or so.

“Wait, ______,” Taehyung trails behind you, his fingers slightly brushing against your arms to gather your attention, “I’m sorry, I was just trying to make you relax a little bit. I won’t tease you anymore.”

You turn around to closely watch his face and when you fail to pick up any hint of deception on his features you make the decision to stay for reasons you can’t comprehend yourself.

“Can I ask you something, though?” You say, troubling your bottom lip with your teeth, another question pending on your mouth the moment he proposed this bet to you.

“Of course you can.”

“Why do you want...?” Your voice trails off as he takes a step closer to you, surprising you with his sudden proximity. It is not like you have never been close before or even closer, if you have to be completely honest, but tonight everything feels different and out of place.

“What?” He asks, his voice low and deep as he takes another step closer, “Why do I want to fuck you?” He inquires further, taking another step and successfully forcing you to take a few steps back in return until you are squeezed between his body and the counter at your back.

“Y-yeah,” you whisper as his hands come in contact with your hips to lift you up and sit you on the cold table.

“You honestly have no idea why?” He says, his voice husky as he stands between your legs, his lips only a few inches away from your neck.

“N-no?” You reply, your eyebrows furrowing as his hot breath hits your skin, making you shiver at the sensation.

“I had the silliest crush on you when we were teenagers and you were like the prettiest girl in school,” he confesses, chuckling at the memory.

“I wasn’t...” You reply, trying to look into his eyes because honestly, you were never a popular girl or one many boys wanted to date.

“You were to me,” you find a hint of shyness in his voice and it makes you smile tenderly at him because all this time, you had no idea. Taehyung had never been a boy to your eyes, he had always been just Tae, your best and, quite frankly, only friend.

“And I watched you leave and become this beautiful woman and I don’t know, I guess a little part of me still wants to know what it would feel like to be with you.”

“Tae...” you whisper, your hands trailing on his face as he comes closer to your neck and all the nice words you want to say to him, all the other questions, they get all swept away by his mouth, kissing your soft skin until it coaxes a whimper out of your lips.

Your body seems to catch fire as a whole while he kisses you, hugging you closer with his arms firmly around your hips and you find it hard to talk and to think or even breathe for you had no idea your body could react like this to your best friend’s touch.

He kisses your jawline tenderly, moving on its expanse until your mouth is right there, ready to be kissed and oh, does he kiss you. His lips are warm and soft and taste like a summer fling on the beach and it’s so madly intoxicating you find yourself pulling him closer, not willing to let go.

Why is everything about Taehyung suddenly so captivating and sensual and just... beautiful? Why does everything seem so incredibly right for your body and heart but so utterly wrong for your mind?

“Your lips are as nice as I always thought they would feel like,” he confesses, his breath hitting your wet lips and you open your eyes, realizing only then that you had closed them.

Taehyung briefly kisses you again before moving onto your neck anew with newfound fervor and you find yourself tensing at his touch, still unable to decide if you want him to stop or to keep going.

“Shh,” he whispers atop your skin, sensing the way your body has stiffened under his touch, “Just relax, peach. Let me make you feel really good.”

His mouth is like poison on your skin, rendering it feverish to the touch and you find yourself caving in, allowing him to take control and, for once in your life, it is not something panic-inducing but rather liberating.

His hands move flat against your hips and travel upwards on your sides whilst his mouth trails downwards to meet the soft expanse of your breasts.

His hands push your chest forward and your back arches for him as he kisses the supple flesh your dress doesn’t reach to cover, allowing him good access to the prize he seeks to seize.

His mouth kisses your chest like he would kiss your lips and it is passionate and wet and it makes you quiver in both pleasure and anticipation for what is out to come. You feel utterly confused because it is not the first time a man has kissed your body or pulled you closer and yet, it never felt quite like this and the more the minutes tick by, the more you feel attracted to your best friend and, honestly, the more the attraction grows the less you wish to win this bet so that you can experience all of this every day for the next week.

His fingers tug at the hem of your dress, pulling it down to further reveal your chest, enclosed in a nice black bra that is evidently of his taste since he hums in contentment.

Your dress gathers around your hips and you shiver as his fingers start to roam around your naked skin, caressing every inch they can reach while moving blindly since his eyes are closed and his mouth is open to kiss and lick your breasts.

You sigh as he unclasps your bra and his warm hands come to cup your breasts passionately, bringing them together so that he can kiss both of them equally, leaving a trail of saliva on the feverish skin.

You find yourself whimpering for him and he relishes in the sound, encouraged to keep his ministrations going.

The sensation of his warm lips around your nipple is something heavenly and it makes you close your eyes and tilt your head backward. Your back arches for him and he sucks on the hardening nip whilst humming at the way your body reacts to his very touch.

“Every inch of you tastes so sweet,” he whispers hoarsely and you whine in response because nobody has ever made you feel so desired and cherished before and God, do your insides love everything about this.

His hands move around your hips and you lift your ass up, allowing him to finally remove your dress and take a look at what is hidden underneath.

Your underwear is matched to perfection with your bra and you know you’ve made a great choice when he steps back and hisses at the sight of your sex, barely covered by the transparent black piece of clothing.

You watch his lips twist into a smirk and you know it must be because of a wet spot, clearly showing through the fabric and even though you’d gladly remove that teasing smile off of his lips there is no hiding that he has a great effect over you.

You arch your back to push your chest forward and spread your legs wider whilst biting your bottom lip to provoke him and tease him just like he so loves to do with you.

“Fuck,” he hisses, running a hand through his locks while continuously wetting his lips.

“Am I living up to your teenage dreams?” You ask, voice coy despite the way your body sensually moves before him.

“Oh no, you are fucking better,” he growls, unable to shift his gaze from your sex up to your face.

“I am?” You ask, tilting your head to the side with a little smile on your lips, “Then what are you waiting for?”

Your words seem to be exactly the permission he was looking for and you can barely finish your sentence before he is on his knees, his face perfectly aligned with your partially clothed sex.

You lift your ass again as soon as his fingers tug at your underwear and you shiver at the sensation of the cold surface of the table on your now naked cheeks.

He marvels at your sex for a few seconds, just enough to make blood rush to your face in embarrassment, and then, without a single warning, he licks your folds with one big swift movement.

“T-tae,” you whimper at the foreign sensation and he lifts his gaze, eyes glinting with warmth and trepidation.

“Did that feel good?” He asks, caressing your thighs with his hands to help you relax again and give in more to his touch.

“Yes,” you whisper and he starts planting kisses on your inner thigh to build up the excitement coiling in your stomach.

“Am I the first one to do that to you?” He inquires further and you bite down your lip, struggling between the need to lie to make yourself look more experienced in the realm of sex and the one to just be sincere.

In the end, you decide to tell the truth for, after all, your only fault is to suck at picking men willing to give pleasure to their companions instead of only seeking out their own.

“Yes.”

“Good,” he says, smiling at you with mirth in his eyes and you consider the idea of strangling him with your thighs right about now, “I want to be your first in many things,” he adds, licking his lips as he resumes his position between your legs.

“The first one to make you orgasm, the first one to taste your pussy and, maybe, the very first man able to make you come for him multiple times.”

At any other time, you would retort something witty to burst his bubble but his words do not anger you, in fact, they actually excite you further and it is truly a mystery how or why your body likes and reacts to everything he says or does.

Taehyung’s hot tongue is suddenly flat against your mound and all the thoughts in your mind are rendered inconsequential by the simple touch.

You can feel his plump lips encompassing your folds as he takes another tentative lick at your sex and you shiver at the sensation, sighing for him to encourage him in his movements.

His tongue turns suddenly relentless over your sex, bent on gathering all the juices you produce in return for its wild caresses and he hums on your mound every time you let out a sigh or a mewl, the low rumble of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

As his moves increase in boldness and pace you find yourself tugging on his hair, unable to understand whether you wish to push him away or pull him closer.

The minutes stretch as the shop fills with the lewd sounds of his tongue on your wet core and the way he sucks and pulls at the skin every now and then, just to elicit moans out of you.

“Taehyung,” you whimper as his tongue moves past your lips to lap at your inner walls, slightly shaking his head so that his nose can tease your untouched clitoris.

His hands cup your ass and he pushes you forward until you are barely balanced on the counter and completely at his disposal.

His tongue shoots upwards within you, tasting and stretching your inner walls with its ravenous movements and it doesn’t take long for your insides to start twitching, responding to his ministrations with such an ease someone would think you didn’t just experience your first orgasm the night before this very moment.

“Tae,” you whimper again and his gaze lifts up to meet your pleading one. His mouth suddenly detaches from your sex and you pout at the sudden loss of warmth and pleasure.

“Yes, peach?” There it is again, the little nickname he has decided to use on you tonight and even if you were never a fan of those, even when you prohibited every male you’ve been with of ever using one, on Taehyung’s mouth it sounds incredibly endearing.

“Would you like some dick on the go, perhaps?”

The illusion shatters with his next words and your legs close shut as you are suddenly reminded why Taehyung has always been nothing but a friend to you.

“Wow, ok, you ruined it.”

It is almost comical the way his eyes get big as saucers at your words and his mouth hangs open in a perfect impersonation of a fish.

“Come on, don’t tell me it wasn’t funny!” He says, his voice still retaining that rough and sexy tone that had made you cave in the first place.

“Do you honestly think now is the time for humor?!” You squeak, ready to get back on your feet and bloody leave.

“Why not? Sex can be fun!” he retorts, scratching his head with his eyebrows deeply furrowed.

You roll your eyes to the ceiling and click your tongue in your mouth, shaking your head in bewilderment for how can someone be both an ass with the brain of a child and a sensual man with the power of a God to bend you with.

“Ok,” he says, looking at your unimpressed expression, “No jokes, got it.”

His hands rest on your knees to push your legs open and you squeeze them even more shut, picking up the chance to tease him as much as he has been doing ever since you first came into the shop.

“Forget it, I’m not in the mood anymore.”

“Wait, are you for real?”

You watch him scramble back on his feet and you almost laugh in his face as he looks at you, utterly lost.

“What if I am?” You ask, your eyes turning into slits while you force your lips to remain in a tight line, “What would you do to make me change my mind?”

His eyes darken at your words and you think he’ll get back on his knees to resume his previous activities but, instead, he harshly kisses your mouth, his teeth latching at your bottom lip to drag it down until you hiss in both pain and pleasure.

“Open your legs,” he says and all the mirth shown before is gone in both his features and his voice and you think about resisting, about teasing him forward but his fingers wrap around your neck, slightly pressing over your carotid to cut off the oxygen income.

“Do you really want me to stop and go back home?” He asks and you find yourself opening your mouth to whimper out a miserable ‘no’.

“So, will you be a good girl and open up your legs for me now?”

“Y-yes,” you whisper as his gaze shifts from your face down at your closed-off mound.

His eyes are dark with desire and you marvel at the way he looks like a completely different Taehyung and, somehow, this side of him feels incredibly exciting.

“Yes, what?” He asks as you open up your legs for him, his gaze fixing back on your own. For a moment you stay in silence, utterly confused and then your insides twitch at the sudden illumination. It is surprising to know where his desires lay and it is even more baffling to realize they seem to mirror your very own fantasies.

“Yes, daddy.” You choke out, your eyes slightly closing as his grip around your neck fades, allowing the oxygen to kick back in your system.

“Good girl.”

His lips stretch into a smile and in an instant, the dominant look is swept away from his face and you stare at him, unable to comprehend how he manages to shift between both but even with that seraphic smile, he doesn’t allow much room for thoughts to happen for one of his hands immediately flies down between your legs, cupping your sex until you’re sighing for him, pleading for more of his touch.

His mouth is rough against your own, all teeth and tongue and you mewl as one of his fingers moves past your folds, resuming the stretching his tongue had worked on your walls.

This is not a foreign sensation. You’ve had your fingers playing down there countless of times and, sometimes, even your partners attempted it but it has never been particularly pleasurable.

Taehyung is quick to notice that, in fact, even his touch can’t spark up the sensations his tongue lightened up within you and with that knowledge, he lets go of your mouth and falls on his knees anew.

His hot breath hits your slick folds and you shiver, your eyes fixed on the way his eyes glint at the sight of your naked cunt, dripping for him.

With slowed down precision he penetrates you with another one of his fingers, curling them in sync to test the way your body would respond to his touch.

He pushes them in as far as they can reach and the pace within you is slow but pleasant nonetheless. Still, it doesn’t have that butterfly-awakening effect you are both seeking out of you and he hums, deep in thought as if he were studying some rare species of some sort.

His mouth opens and you wait for his voice to break the silence in the room but, instead, his lips press together around your clitoris, allowing him to suck around the sensitive bud.

You hiss at the sensation and fire erupts back within you, making your back arch and your head tilt back.

“Fuck,” you whimper out and you can feel him smile against your swelling flesh.

“That’s it, peach, give in to me.”

His voice is rough and guttural and it sends shivers down your spine, warmness coiling in your stomach as he presses his mouth around your mound again ready to lick, suck and tease.

His fingers pick up the pace within you, scissoring to blissfully stretch you and, united with his relentless mouth, you are quick to unfold before him.

“That-that feels so good,” you mewl, your eyes opening to fix onto his head, nicely enclosed by your thighs. It is a sight you would have never thought possible to be real and, most importantly, you would have never thought to desire keeping him there as much as you do now.

Your words work wonders on his mood and you can sense the shift before it actually happens but oh, when he picks up his pace within you and sucks hard on your clitoris leaving very little room for you to catch your breath, you are fast to crumble and succumb to pleasure.

The orgasm washes over you like an unexpected wave and your voice sounds almost foreign to your own ears as you moan out his name. It is the first time you are truly coming for a man, moving your mouth in the shape of his name.

Taehyung laps all your juices with his untiring tongue and you quiver with the feeling of being overly stimulated all over your swollen mound.

“You are already one step closer to losing our bet,” he says, voice hoarse as he tilts his head towards you and you whine at the sight of him, face flushed and chin dripping with your juices.

By now it is clear to both of you that you won’t actually win the bet and, quite honestly, you don’t even want to when it feels so good to have him working wonders between your legs.

It is, then, with the goal of losing yourself into pleasure that you speak the next words.

“Shut up and fuck me.”

Your words make him chuckle and you yelp in surprise as he slaps your sensitive mound with enough force for it to sting.

“Careful with your words, peach.” He says, getting up on his feet to be at eye level with you again, “Unless you want me to teach you a lesson.”

Your insides twitch at his words and it makes you wonder how have you lived your life all this time without knowing you had that big of a dominance kink. Of course, you have watched porn before and you have preferred certain types of kink but having little to zero experience in what you actually like, everything comes as a surprise tonight. You would never admit it out loud and especially not to him but, Taehyung is the man responsible for your discovery of your utmost inner desires.

His mouth seeks your own and you can taste your own flavor lodged between his lips, hanging from his tongue, and it is utterly inebriating.

His fingers trace your sex with the most delicate touch and he smirks on your mouth, his eyes opening to look into yours.

“Look who is wet for my dick,” he says, his tongue licking your bottom lip to add fuel to the fire already raging between your legs.

“How badly do you want me to fuck you?” He asks, his head tilted to the side so that he can kiss your jawline and further down your neck, your most sensitive spot.

“So much, daddy,” you whimper out, hugging him closer almost as if you are afraid he is going to leave before complying to his promise, “Please.”

“Stay here,” he whispers and you look at him confused, fighting the instinct to pull him back as he untangles from your embrace and takes a few steps back.

You do exactly as he says, though, remaining perfectly still on the counter and you can only imagine how you must look right now: red lipstick smeared on your lips, your body glistening with sweat and your sex slick with both your juices and arousal.

It is an image he seems to enjoy though and the way he looks at you, licking his lips as if anticipating what he’s about to do to you, makes your heart flutter in your chest.

Taehyung takes a few steps back unable to glue his eyes off of you until he absolutely has to and you watch him move past you and disappear behind a door.

The wait makes your heart burst in your chest with expectation and, of course, anxiousness because yes, it is liberating to let someone else take the lead for once but, after all, you were always a control freak and not knowing what is going to happen will always scare the living wits out of you.

Seconds tick by feeling as long as minutes and you are about to combust in flames or leave your position to follow him when he appears again, a little devilish smile on his lips and a white toy in his hands.

You are familiar with what he has brought back from behind that door but you have never used it before, you didn’t think it would work on you, just like everything else.

Taehyung walks slowly between your legs again and he stretches his arm behind your back, seeking for a plug for the magic wand.

The toy comes to life in his hands and you shiver in anticipation as he faces you again, eyes glinting with mischief.

“I’m going to send you to heaven,” he hoarsely declares and you find yourself spreading your legs wider for him, ready to take everything he has to give.

The first touch of the toy on your clitoris sends a jolt to course through your body and your knuckles turn white as you grip hard the counter’s edge, bracing yourself for the ride he has in store for you.

Taehyung is silent as he works the wand’s head on your little mound but the sound of the toy working its magic is enough to fill the room, nicely accompanied by your sighs of ecstasy.

His free hand comes in contact with one of yours and you let go of your tight hold on the counter, following his directions until you are the one balancing the wand on your sex.

“Keep it right there, yes, just like that.”

Your heart leaps in your chest at the praise and with entranced eyes, you watch him get back on his knees.

Your breath itches in your chest as two of his fingers move past your dripping lips, resuming their work as before you came all over them.

Taehyung works slowly and with utter precision and you can feel his digits slightly pressing over your most hidden pleasurable spot and you whimper out for him, letting him know how close he is to his target.

You expect him to rub into you faster, forcing another orgasm out of you but he actually retreats with a little smirk. He is up to tease you, you realize, and you can’t find in yourself the will to protest when it still feels so darn good.

Another one of his fingers moves past your folds and you quiver at the sensation of the deep stretching, relishing in the way they nicely curl within you.

You don’t know if it’s because the magic wand is working wonders on your clitoris but now, even the movements of his fingers feel like heaven and that, is a whole another level of accomplishments Taehyung has achieved in barely two days.

You can hear the squelching sounds of your sex as he fucks into you with his fingers, now relentlessly battering your insides with the evident goal of turning your world upside down again.

His free hand comes in contact with your own atop the sex toy and with utter precision he twists the settings upwards, increasing the speed of its vibrations.

Your eyes roll on the back of your head and your body starts to spasmodically contract. His fingers ravage into you faster, hitting that desired spot he had caressed before and you come, oh Lord you come in a cacophony of sounds and screams.

You almost drop the wand as you madly quiver on the counter and it’s only because his hand is keeping the toy in place that you do not do so.

The orgasm seems endless and it keeps coming and coming until you are breathless and your body feels as heavy as a boulder.

You can barely register the absence of both the toy and his fingers at first, too lost into the haze of pleasure to notice or to care. It is only when his arms are tightly engulfing you that you notice the change and you open your eyes, looking up to his pleased face.

“That was amazing,” you confess and you hate that it will burst his ego to exorbitant levels but lying doesn’t really come simply when you’re still trembling over a nice set of orgasms.

“You realize you just lost our bet, don’t you, peach?”

His breath feels hot and ticklish on your ear and you tilt your head backward away from his face so that you can look into his eyes.

“Do you honestly think I even care now?”

He smiles and places a soft kiss on your lips, hugging you closer in what feels like a very soft aftercare moment.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t. Because you have to stick up to your end of the bargain now.”

“Taehyung,” you softly say, releasing one of your arms from his hold to caress his face, “As long as you can make me feel as good as you did now I will be coming back every day.”

He smiles a pleased smile and you can tell he wants to retort something witty or teasing or quite possibly both but he doesn’t and you are glad for it. You wouldn’t want to ruin the moment, after all.

“We are not done, though,” you say after a while and he quirks his eyebrows upwards.

“Still thirsty, peach?”

Oh, how you love how quickly he switches back to his role and you tilt your head upwards, a soft smile on your lips.

“I didn’t get to feel daddy’s dick yet,” you say as your hand trails down from his cheek to his still clothed sex.

The erection twitches in your palm and the corners of your lips lift up as you notice how hard he feels pressed against your digits.

“Mh,” he hums slowly, closing his eyes as you finally turn your attention to his neglected cock, “Are you sure you’re ready for it?”

“Yes, please.”

Your response comes out in a quick breath and he licks your lips in response, kissing you right after to steal the air out of your lungs.

“I can make you feel real good, daddy,” you say, boldness laced in your words and he chuckles, releasing his hold on you to take a step back.

“Then show me what you got, peach.”

Taehyung doesn’t have to repeat his words twice before you are back on your own two feet — and admittedly you do need a few seconds to get your legs to work again — ready to undress him and make him crumble as hard as he did to you.

Your hands are quick to tug onto his shirt, forcing the button opens with one single swift movement. His mouth opens in protest as the sound of loose buttons falling on the ground reaches his ears but no words come out once it’s your lips that kiss his warm skin.

Your mouth seems to fill with the taste of honey and you can’t decide whether it is the actual taste of his body or, rather, if it is only a fruit of your own mind associating his golden skin to the sweet liquid’s flavour. Nevertheless, he tastes absolutely delicious and you cannot help but suck on the tender flesh, hard enough to bloom flowers atop his chest.

“What a nice mouth you have there, peach,” he murmurs and you smirk on his now covered-in-saliva torso.

“Oh, daddy, I haven’t shown you yet what my pretty mouth can do.”

Taehyung grunts at your evident suggestion and you fall on your knees instantly at the sound, fighting with the button of his pants, eager to finally please him.

You pause for a second recalling how seeing him half naked has almost made you gag yesterday and how now you seem to be unable to wait for him to be bare of any item of clothing. Oh what can change in a span of twenty-four hours, you think to yourself before pushing down his pants.

Taehyung stands in front of you in nothing but his underwear — a simple pair of boxer briefs that have nothing to do with the flimsy thong he flashed you with yesterday — and you open your mouth in awe at the evident bulge hardly concealed under it.

“Like what you see, peach?” He muses and you can hear the smile in his voice but find yourself incapable of looking away from his crotch.

“Very,” you hum in response before your fingers are latching onto the hem of his boxers, ready to reveal what is hidden behind them.

You have never been this eager to see a cock nor to suck it but oh, does Taehyung change everything.

When the fine cloth moves past his hips you inhale deeply, your eyes transfixed on the trail of pubic hair leading to his sex. The boxers fall to his ankles as you let them go, your mouth suddenly dry as you stare at his dick, hard and red and definitely ready to be touched.

You water your mouth a few times before tentatively touching the hot flesh, your fingers encompassing his length with the uncertainty that you feel within your heart.

You have given pleasure to a man before, eager to have some in return if you were good enough but this time, even this feels different for Taehyung has proven to be quite the experienced lover and a big part of you desires to impress him.

His breath hitches in his lungs and you finally lift your gaze to look at his face. His mouth is hanging open, his eyes boring into yours as you finally move your hand alongside his shaft, giving him what he has been desperately craving for all along.

Your mouth twists into a smile at his response and you turn your movements bolder, more confident and, you watch him tilt his head back, his eyes closing at the sensation your fingers provide.

Your thumb rubs against his head to gather his pre-cum and he hisses as you blow hot air onto its tip, teasing him enough to turn him eager.

“Fuck, be a good girl and let me feel your mouth now.”

His voice is rough and deep as he speaks those lewd words and you find yourself immediately obliging to his wishes, throwing your chance of retaliation in the form of teasing out of the window.

Your mouth opens for him and you fix your gaze up to his face again while looking as innocent and coy as you can muster.

You bat your eyelashes at him, your tongue protruding forward ready to welcome the weight of his cock on its rough surface.

Taehyung takes that as a cue to place his hand atop your head, his fingers tugging at your strands of hair to push you forward until you are breathing atop his sex, just an inch away from engulfing him all.

You are the one to take that step forward and as soon as your lips brush his length he releases his breath, his body almost relaxing now that he has been granted his utmost desire.

Your teeth graze his tender skin and you push yourself further, inch after inch until your nose is tickled by his pubic hair and he is panting in approval.

Your lips enclose his member and you inhale deeply, squeezing your cheeks until his fingers start pulling your hair in a vise that makes tears gather in your eyes.

He huffs as his abdomen contracts and you tentatively bob your head whilst releasing your grip around his twitching cock.

The sigh that escapes his mouth sounds like both relief and pleasure and you settle your pace for a pretty gentle one, designed to bring him up to his breaking point as slowly as possible.

“You’re doing so good, peach,” he encourages with voice sounding deep and rough with need and you hum around him to produce goosebumps on his skin.

Your mouth and tongue make lewd sounds as you suck him hard as if his member were an icicle during the very first days of summer and you wish to savor every last drop of the cooling treat.

You have never felt desire blooming between your legs while doing this to other men but tonight, you find yourself rubbing your thighs together every time he hums or sighs or grunts for you.

The need is like a burning fire and it forces you to rest a hand atop your sex to get some of the friction you seem desperate to feel there.

You are able to only press your digits on your clitoris a couple of times before he is made aware of what you are doing.

“Are you touching yourself right now?” He asks and you can’t tell by his tone if he’s more aroused by the act or mad that you did something without asking him first.

Your mouth opens around his cock just enough for you to hum in shame, your eyes fixing on his belly rather than on his eyes.

“What a dirty little girl have you turned into,” he muses and you find the courage to lift up your gaze. The smile that resides on his lips makes your insides twitch and your heart tremble for it promises all the right kinds of wickedness.

“Come here,” he instructs and you leave his member with a lewd pop to get up on your feet and follow him as he drags you further inside the shop.

There appears to be a small niche you hadn’t notice before, right beside the counter and he guides you through it until you are standing face to face with the most bizarre-looking toys you have ever seen.

Taehyung doesn’t address your amazed face in the slightest and silently walks you in front of a mirror, hastily pushing you down to your previous position.

You look up at him with confusion written all over your face and he caresses your left cheek delicately.

“We are going to have so much fun, now,” he says and you nod your head in anticipation, ready to follow his instructions impeccably.

“On your fours,” he says and you follow suit, pressing your hands to the tiled floor and sticking your butt out for good measure.

“Can you look behind your back, peach?” He softly speaks, light glinting in his eyes, and you follow his gaze to be met with a dildo attached to a mirror, perfectly aligned with your ass and, most importantly, your dripping core.

Taehyung moves out of your peripheral vision and you let out a shaky breath as you try to register all his movements with the help of your hearing.

He reappears in your view through the mirror, a pink bottle of lube in his hands you squeeze your legs together in anticipation, already foretasting the pleasure that is about to be sent your way.

Taehyung works as slowly as he possibly can with his fingers, coating the dildo for you at the best of his abilities and you know for a fact that he is doing it on purpose, trying to push you past your tolerance point and Lord, is he getting so damn close.

Just as you are about to snap he gets back on his own two feet, a pleased sound leaving his lips as his gaze focuses back on you.

“Now, be a good girl and fuck yourself with that dildo for daddy.”

His words make all the blood in your body coil down to your stomach, forcing your insides to twitch in excitement and you do not waste even a single second to align yourself to the object responsible for your imminent pleasure.

The dildo feels like any other phallic-looking toy you have used before and you sink onto it with rather ease, helped by the lube and your incredible arousal but the magic seems to happen the second Taehyung’s dick is well encompassed by your mouth again.

You resume your slow bobbing pace around him as if it was never interrupted in the first place but, this time, it is not your head that moves for him, it’s your entire body.

Taehyung stands at a distance that forces you to push your body forward and as you do that, you can feel the toy slipping in and out of you at the same time.

This, is foreign ground again and his little sighs spark you up anew, convincing you to leave behind your initial idea of being gentle and slow and teasing and opt for a rather quicker and rougher pace.

You can feel your own saliva trailing down your chin and pool on the ground but it seems to be only an incentive for you to go harder, relishing in the sounds of approval that leave his swollen mouth.

The faster you move around his shaft the faster the silicone toy batters your sex and you find yourself humming all around him, sending the vibrations up and down his spine, forcing him to moan out your name and tilt his head backward in utter pleasure.

You watch his abdomen contract almost painfully and the vision sparks a question to form in your head and, a few seconds after, on your lips.

Your hips come to a halt, allowing you to let go of his member just enough to voice out your thoughts.

“Would you like to come in my mouth, daddy?” You sugar-coat your words and bat your lashes for good measure and he grunts at the sight of you, so willing to do anything he’d want from you.

“Such a good dirty girl,” he hums, one of his hands releasing its grip from your hair to caress your cheek lovingly and you smile at the fond gesture before quickly engulfing his head into your lips and suck hard on the leaking red tip.

Taehyung groans at the sensation, his body shivering as pleasure spreads through it like a wave you can almost make out the outline of.

You buckle your hips into the toy to quench your own arousal and in a matter of seconds, you have him on the verge of his orgasm, panting and sighing and murmuring encouraging words.

You discard your own purchase on the ground to grasp his ass with your fingers, forcefully pushing his hips to meet your mouth while surely leaving marks on his cheeks that he’d definitely complain about later but, in the heat of the moment, every single one of your actions seems to stir up the fire further.

Your jaw is slack as he starts pounding into you, no more willing to let you decide the pace you are more comfortable in sustaining and it truly takes a lot of work to not gag around him or suffocate on your own spit.

Taehyung comes in hot bursts that take you by surprise but you’re still quick to gulp everything down, ignoring the burning sensation or the tears forming in your eyes because, truly, it is almost a struggle to breathe by now and yet, as he comes moaning out your name you find it impossible for you to care about anything else that isn’t him or his pleasure.

The taste of cum is not pleasant, it never was and it probably will never be but you find it is not quite as disgusting as it tasted before when you were performing your “duty” as a sexual partner. Pleasuring Taehyung is a pleasure in itself and you find yourself licking up your lips as you would do after a satisfying meal.

Taehyung’s hands are warm and turn soft again around your body as he easily lifts you up from the ground to welcome you into his arms.

Your head finds refuge in the crook of his neck and he kisses your temple as your breathing starts slowing down alongside with the hammering within your chest.

One of his hands moves to touch your cheek just like he has done a few moments ago but this time it is to make you look up into his eyes.

His irises as dark as the night sky are fixed upon your face but you can’t pinpoint what the light in his eyes could possibly mean. That is until his lips seek your own and you find yourself leaning into him to kiss him back.

Taehyung kisses you with the despair of a man that knows this is his last chance and with the sweetness of one that has won your heart and, Lord, does it turn your legs into jelly.

He makes you feel like that teenage girl dreaming about boyfriends and first kisses in the safety of her room, he makes you feel like that young girl who used to sneak out of her house in the night to go to a party with her best friend and dance all night until her feet hurt. He makes you feel like the girl you used to be before the city sucked you in and turned you into this sad and stiffer version of yourself. A pale reflection of what you used to be, of the things you used to dream.

When Taehyung leaves your mouth you are panting and you are quite certain your eyes must be glossy with unshed tears.

His thumb strokes your cheek and you tilt your head to the side to look at him better.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper as you start mimicking his sweet touches with your own hand.

He chuckles and shakes his head looking rather bewildered. ”Didn’t I do that already, tonight?” He asks and you smile back at him, shaking your head in return.

“I want you to truly fuck me,” you retort, voice barely above a whisper for you never thought you’d ever pronounce those words to him, of all people, “I want to feel you inside of me.”

You try to ignore the way your heart hammers in your chest or the way your insides contract in embarrassment and your ears turn flaming hot under his gaze.

There is a fraction of a second where you wish you could take it back and simply walk out the front door and forget any of this ever happened but then, something shifts inside Taehyung’s eyes and you instantly know, the words you have spoken are the ones he had been waiting for all night.

His hands turn from gentle to rough again against your supple flesh and you yelp in both surprise and pain as he yanks you up on his shoulder, dragging you back where it all started.

Your bottom cheeks hit the cooling surface of the counter again and you can barely utter a single word before Taehyung’s mouth is seeking your own, teeth and tongue working to pry your lips open and claim your taste until it almost seems to become the one he is embodied with.

“Tell me how badly you want my dick,” he whispers, voice hoarse as he instantly attacks the soft skin under your ear, sucking and pinching the flesh in a fine mixture of pleasure and ache — a combo your neck seems to be sharing with your sex.

“So, so bad, daddy, please.”

Taehyung hands force your legs open so that he can stand between them and you let him, arching your back a little to push your hips forward and meet the heat of his semi-hard cock.

His fingers are rough against your skin and they love to torment your thighs and hips and even the little curve of your bottom cheeks that he has access to.

His mouth is generous on your breasts and you mewl for him, pulling him in with your fervent touch and your wanton desire.

Your fingers find purchase on his hair and you tug on them until he growls and bites your skin in retaliation, making you chuckle at his child-like temper.

Your other hand, though, sneaks right past his control and before he can even register the movement, your fingers are laced around his member.

His mouth opens in a silent moan as you trace his length with your warm finger and a wicked smirk twists your lips.

You buckle your hips forward and hook your legs around his own, trapping him right in front of your sex and barely a few inches away from being exactly where you need him to be the most.

“I don’t remember saying you could touch me,” he grunts, trying to regain the control over the situation and assess his dominating role anew.

“Are you complaining?” You ask in a whisper as you guide his cock towards your sex whilst still coaxing it into erection with the slow movements of your fingers.

His sex meets your swollen and dripping lips and they engulf it nicely, coating it with your arousal as you stroke him with both your flushed flesh and your lavish fingers.

One of his hands flies to your face and grasps both of your cheeks, squeezing them until you lift your gaze up to him.

“Don’t forget who is in charge here, peach,” his voice is low and it makes you shiver for all the right reasons and damn, you have never desired to disobey someone’s orders as much as you do now. There is this part of you that relishes in the thought of Taehyung punishing you and it’s that emerging side of you that makes your hand move faster on his sex with a taunting smile on your lips.

“Are you?” You ask, lifting your chin up against his grasp, “Then show me.”

His hand leaves your face to slap away the one around his cock with a sound smack that stings your skin and makes your insides twitch.

“After I’m done with you, you will think again before defying me,” he promises with a growl before slapping your sex, rough and strong.

You yelp in surprise, pain and excitement all mixing into one and you can do nothing to hide the way your body quivers at his touch nor the way your breath has turned quick and shallow in anticipation for what is out to come.

His hand slaps your sex again and you moan loud for him, tilting your head backward as your eyes close, your mind unable to focus on neither the pain nor the pleasure.

When your eyelids flutter open again you are quick to notice the way his cock is fully erected now, finally awoken by the sounds of your mouth and the ones of your battered sex, aching for his touch.

“Lie on your back,” he instructs and this time you follow suit, shivering as the cooling surface of the counter is flushed against your feverish skin.

“You are not allowed to come until I tell you so, do you understand?”

A sound of frustration leaves your lips at the thought of having to hold back and, a part of you wonders if you are even capable of doing so.

“Do you understand?” He repeats, his voice sounding strict and rough, almost mad, and you wet your lips before nodding your head eyes. This time, you do not want to think about what his punishment would be like for, a part of you already knows you wouldn’t be able to endure it. Especially not now that you are already so desperate for release.

Taehyung’s cock intrudes your sex without any warning and your eyes close at the sensation whilst a grunt escapes your lips. You cannot conceal the way his girth stings inside of you when it happens so quickly and all at once, allowing you very little room to adjust.

Taehyung stays still inside of you, coaxing your sex with the movement of his fingers on your clit, urging your walls to relax around him.

A sigh erupts from your parted lips and you close your eyes, willing your body to relax and let his fingers do their work on you.

“Just like that, peach, take a big deep breath for daddy,” his face conceals perfectly well how hard he is struggling to keep himself still but his voice fails to do so, reaching your ears in a gruff and strained tone.

You want to see that wall he has put on crumble and show what’s really hiding behind it, you want to see his face morph into one of pleasure and you want to be the one responsible for it.

You move your hips upwards, ignoring the sting that comes with it just to make him flinch, lose his composure and simply fuck you like he so evidently desires to.

“Careful, peach, or you won’t be able to walk once I’m done with you,” he grunts, stilling the movements of your hips with his strong hands, his eyes burning with both desire and displeasure.

“Who said I want to?” You ask in a whisper and oh, do your words shoot right through his barrier, making it crumble like a castle’s tower under the force of a cannonball.

Taehyung rolls his hips into you and you whimper for him, a fine mixture of both pain and pleasure. Up until this moment, you had no idea you had a thing for pain and being used by someone but Taehyung sparks all of this within you and, soon enough, that subtle pain is subdued by arousal, need and, furthermore, pleasure at its finest.

His pace is slow, calculated, but the way his hips push into yours is not delicate nor sweet at all. It’s raw passion and it makes you sigh and whimper for him, it makes your body quiver and contract and it’s marvelous to discover what sex can feel like, what it should feel like and, for a brief moment, you find yourself hanging on the verge of tears.

Taehyung’s charcoal eyes stare into your own and a playful smirk tugs on his lips as he notices the way your eyes shine with unshed tears and the way you can’t help but voice out your pleasure for anyone nearby to hear.

“Does it feel good, peach?” He asks, voice slightly taunting but you can’t find it in yourself to think of a witty rebuttal, not when your thoughts are all hazy and rendered inconclusive by the pressure between your legs.

“Y-yes,” you whimper out and he attaches his swollen lips to the feverish skin of your neck, sucking on the supple flesh with such force you know you are going to bare the signs of this encounter in the morning.

Taehyung seems to be able to read your body to perfection: he grants you what you need before you can even ask for it, he kisses and touches every inch of skin that could add fuel to the burning fire building within you, he says lewd words that he knows are going to arouse you even more. So, it does not come as a surprise that he can tell when you are going to come as well.

“You’re not allowed to come just yet,” he says and you whimper in frustration, your voice pleading because after craving an orgasm for so long in your life, you simply do not want to postpone that heaven-like feeling any longer.

“Please,” you plea, your eyes searching for his and he halts his movements in response, drawing a strangled grunt out of you.

“Now, now, you spent all your life waiting for this, what’s a minute longer?” He teases, his index finger tracing the expanse of your chest and you swear to God, if your pending orgasm wasn’t on the line, you’d be biting that finger off of his hand right about now.

“Taehyung,” you whimper miserably and he seeks your eyes, tilting his head to the side as he notices a tear running down your left cheek, the orgasm denial hitting you far more than he must have anticipated for he frowns and then pouts, deep in thought.

His mouth opens, his lips shaping into the words he wants to say but something in your eyes seems to suggest him otherwise and, before you know it, his dick is firmly stroking your walls anew, the pace relentless as he seeks out the pleasure you begged him for.

Your breath hitches, your back arches for him and your eyes close as you lose yourself into the feeling of being owned anew. Tonight you discover it’s a feeling quite intoxicating and one you desire with all your being to experience more and more.

“Is it coming, peach?” He asks in a grunt, your walls contracting around him affecting him more than he would ever care to admit and you sigh out a ‘yes’ before your whole body starts to quiver, the orgasm almost taking you by surprise, washing over your entire body like an electric shock.

You do not realize the moans and whimpers that fill the silence of the room are your very own until your eyes are opening again, the over-stimulation between your legs drowning out the last remains of your climax.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Taehyung whispers mostly to himself, his pupils extremely dilated with excitement and all of it makes you feel greatly empowered because he is not immune to you at all, just as much as you are evidently not immune to him.

Your thoughts are scattered by his hands, suddenly grabbing your hips, and the instant loss of his dick within your sex. Your mouth opens to voice out a question but the words die in your mouth as soon as you understand where his intentions lay.

You follow the quick and rough guide of his hands and turn around for him, pushing your chest down to meet the cold surface of the counter, partly sleek with the results of your arousal.

You arch your back a little, pushing your butt out for him to have better access to your sex and that is all it takes from your part for him to intrude your core anew, battering your sensitive spot with grand precision whilst chasing his own release.

One of his hands grabs your hair roughly, pulling upwards until your neck is tilted backward and you can almost see his face and the way it morphs with pleasure.

You bite down your lip as you drink up all the sounds he makes and the ones that come from your squelching sex, fully welcoming him with a new coat of arousal. You had no idea people could come so many times in a single night but as he pounds in and out of you, you feel the golden sensation spreading through your limbs anew, making you whimper and contract for him.

“Listen to yourself,” he huffs, his voice almost trembling with the effort to keep his pace steady, “Mewling for my cock like a slut.”

You groan in response, closing your eyes as you push your hips back to meet his own, eager to make him come as vigorously as you did.

“Yes, like that peach, fuck my cock until I fill you whole... would you like that, uh? To feel my hot cum inside of you.”

“Y-yes,” you whimper out, forcing your hips to meet his relentless pace, smacking your butt onto his firm stomach.

“Look at you,” he presses forward, “Already turned into a cock-slut.”

The orgasm arrives with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs, his words ringing in your ears as you tremble under his body.

Even with your mind adrift in heaven, you can sense the way his hips start to stagger, losing their tempo as he meets his own release.

Taehyung’s moans are rough and deep and they quickly morph into the sound of your name. The warm feeling that spreads within your chest at the sound has nothing to do with pleasure and everything to do with fondness. It is a dangerous feeling, you realize it immediately but, as soon as he’s hugging you close to his chest, struggling to balance his breathing and calm the quick pace of his heart, you let every rational thought hide back in the recess of your mind.

The minutes tick by in silence, only your mingling breaths filling up the room as you both gain back the control over your own limbs and it’s with the definite end of the blissful feelings that what happened tonight dawns to you. You had sex with your best friend over a bet. Hell, you lost the bet and this means this, right here, is only the beginning.

Panic surges quickly through your body and in the span of a few seconds you untangle yourself from him and dress back up at the best of your abilities.

“Why are you running away, ___?”

The sound of your name almost sounds foreign on his mouth when he has spent the entire night calling you everything but.

“I can’t exactly spend the night here, can I?” You ask, opening your arms to make him aware of the fact that this, despite your recent activities, is still a shop and very far from being a bedroom.

“Fair.” He says, leaning to the counter with one of his shoulders, smirking as he watches you get back into your shoes, ready to leave.

“You do realize you lost our bet, right?” He asks, a smirk firmly drawn on his lips, “You’ll have to keep your promise.”

“You motherfucking pig,” you hiss, picking up your purse ready to throw it at him, “I fucking hate you.”

He gingerly laughs, shaking his head with that annoying smirk still plastered all over his features, “You don’t hate all of me, though.”

His eyes take a quick lock to his cock and you roll your eyes, feigning to be gagging on thin air but you both know, you don’t even mean half of the resentment you are displaying to him.

As you turn on your heels and basically run to the door the only sound that accompanies you is his laugh and the embarrassment that it induces within you.

The sound of the door closing roughly behind your back is what ultimately cuts down that laugh and you sigh with relief, briskly walking away from Taehyung’s shop with your heart hammering in your chest for all the wrong reasons — will twenty hours be really this excruciatingly slow to pass?

Copyright © 2018 by jeonggukingdom. All rights reserved.

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Good Girl | Dabi x F!Reader | Fluff/NSFW

Dabi with a very innocent female reader, with some rough nsfw and dirty talk?

I’m so awful with dirty talk. 😂

Warnings: NSFW, wannabe dirty talk, insecurities, Dabi being a sweetheart

Your hand shakes with every centimeter closer you bring the eyeliner to your eyelid. Make-up wasn’t your strong suit besides the basics of foundation, lipstick, and mascara. This is an emergency, however. The man you wanted is dangerously close to belonging to someone else if he hadn’t already.

The man you love, Dabi, is a villain, not the smartest idea considering you are only a civilian. The two of you met actually about a year ago when some jerks were harassing you on the bus on the way home and not taking no and your obvious discomfort for an answer. You’re sure he only stepped in because they were annoying him too with the obnoxiously loud talking.

Ever since then, the two of you kept running into each other. You’re not sure if it was fate or what, but you became acquaintances then friends then he would drop by your house and spend the night every so often to shower or eat, and he would give you some money when you needed something or if rent was tight or he felt that he was staying over and using your stuff more than usual. You never questioned where he got it from nor wanted to know either. Eventually, the two of you became friends with cuddle benefits whenever one of you were feeling particularly desperate for human contact and affection.

Needless to say, you developed a big crush akin to a school girl crushing on her senpai. It’s also like a school girl that you decided to change up your look to win back his attention.

Lately, he’s been spending a lot of time with this other woman who worked for the same person who hooked Dabi up with jobs every now and again. Some guy named Giran. You didn’t know if they were just partners for the time being like he said or not, but you have seen her plenty enough times to know her type, bad girl incarnate.

She was always in tight leather pants with metal chains and matching jacket over a crop top and heavy make-up and shiny body piercings. She had tattoos located on her chest and lower back to draw attention to nicely developed features. You thought that you could’ve competed in the looks department when you dress up in pretty dresses and flowing tops, but the final nail in your confidence was her sleek, stylish Kawasaki. Dabi seemed to really like that.

So as childish as it may have been, if bad is what he liked then you were going to try to be bad. You bought some tight shorts to hug around your hips and skimpier tops to wear. You still were a bit unsure on the piercings and chickened out on getting a real tattoo. You were in the darn chair and practically fell on your face to escape when the needle got close. Though, you thought the temp one on your shoulder was pretty convincing and bought plenty to back it up. Now, you were sitting in front of your bathroom mirror watching a YouTube tutorial on how to apply eyeliner and do a smoky eye shadow.

You knew Dabi would come over today. No matter what he always came on Saturday to spend the night. This time would be a change in plans. You were going to convince him to go out to the rave club with you for a drink and maybe, just maybe, excite him to kiss you instead of just spooning tonight. Then, there would be no need for him to spend time with that other woman at all.

You finally get your make-up done to what you think is a decent look just as a knock comes from the door. Dabi always has this distinct way he knocks before he unlocks your door so you won’t get scared that someone was breaking in.

“Hey,” Dabi greets, eyes immediately going to the couch where he expected you to be waiting instead you bounce in from the hallway to meet him with your usual sweet smile covered behind make-up and normal pajamas replaced by form-hugging clothing that showed off more skin than he’s ever seen.

You notice immediately the confusion on his face. You didn’t know if that is a good thing yet, but it is progress. Blue eyes take you all in, dropping from your head to your feet and all the way back up.

“What are you wearing?” he questions, and you grin as he noticed and bat the long black eyelashes you spent hours trying to figure out how to put on.

“I just decided to try a new look is all,” you explain, smiling with thick red painted lips. “But hey, I was thinking we should go out somewhere fun tonight.”

“Fun?” he questions skeptically.

“Yeah, fun,” you repeat, biting your lip and letting the word leave your mouth hard in what you thought was a seductive manner.

Dabi scowls, eyes narrowing at you, and you gulp. “What is that?”

“Hm?” you hum nonchalantly. Deciding to fall to your emergency plan early, you twist to the side to display the picture on your bicep. “Oh, this? I got a tattoo. Pretty badass, don’t you think?”

You hold your breath as he studies it before scoffing, finally smiling slightly. “It’s fake,” Dabi points out, relieved.

“N-No, it’s not,” you stammer, refusing to give up that easily. Dabi draws his thumb across his tongue, presses it to your skin, and swipes some of the tattoo away. “Hey, what are you doing!”

You’re cut off as he rubs his palm at your eye shadow and bluntly demands, “Take that off. You hate make-up, it breaks you out.”

“Dabi, stop it!” you complain and aggressively whack his hand away.

Annoyed, Dabi finally asks, “What’s up with you, (Name)? You’ve been acting weird lately and now,” he gestures his hand in a circle all around you, “Just what is this?” he cringes when he looks at your face, making your heart sink.

“You’re not around enough to know if I’m acting weird,” you spitefully whispered, making his eyes widen.

“What are you talking about?”

“All your time is with that other woman!” you finally confessed. “Every time you have a job, or she’ll be around you even when you say you’re free, and you don’t spend time with me as much anymore. I know we’re not dating, and you can be with whoever you want, but it hurts since I care about you, too; and if you are dating her, I don’t think it’s fair to me or her if you keep coming around here, too.”

Sighing, Dabi pulls you into him. “You don’t have to waste your time being jealous. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but we’re not having sex or doing anything together if that’s what you’re worried about, and I’m not really interested in doing things with her for that matter.”

“You don’t? But she’s so pretty, and—“

”And you’re not? (Name), you looked fine before. Not to mention look at me, you’re definitely the better looking one in our relationship.”

Blushing, you glance down at your feet with a weak smile. “But she’s just so cool, and I figured you liked women like that so I just wanted you to know I could be bad, too.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, leaning his head close to your ear, and whispering, “Then, show me how bad you can be, (Name)-chan.”

You grin and bring your lips to his, biting down on his bottom lip and pulling before sliding your tongue over his lips. You pull away with a smirk. “How’s that?”

“Oh? Was that all,” he teases. “I said bad,” he says and caresses your cheek.

“What?” you questioned in shock, thinking that was pretty sexy in your book. Realizing he means further, your throat going dry as you squeak out, “you mean right now?”

“That’s what you want, right?” he questions you and grips at your hips to roughly snatch your body against his.

“I…” You looked down to the floor, trying to hide your timid expression from cool blue eyes.

“It’s not that hard,” he says and snuggly hugs your lower half to his. “Tell me what you want to do to me,” Dabi gently drags his thumb down the center of your bottom lip.

“Well, I would undress you...” you state unsurely.

“I see, and?” He teases, sliding his hand down your shoulder. Goosebumps dance up your skin as you try to think of something else to say but you started drawing blanks. He chuckles at your deer in the headlight’s expression.

“And uh…I’m not sure…” You had your chance to make him yours and you were completely lost on how. Your original plan had only went as far as getting him to kiss you. And though it’s not like you haven’t done a few things with a man before, it wasn’t really your area of expertise either. “But I can learn. It can’t be that hard.”

“Really?”

”Yes,” you repeat less confidently as he cups your chin to bring your line of sight back to him.

“Don’t worry about it, bad girls are nice, but I do really like good girls like you. It makes it that much easier to make you squirm.”

A yelp echoes through the house as you're hoisted off your feet and into his arms.

“Dabi,” you gasp and wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He cups your ass and brings you up as high as possible before carrying you to the bedroom.

Dabi kicks open the door and tosses you onto the bed like it’s nothing. Closing your eyes, you land on it with a bounce. You open your eyes to catch Dabi leaning over you and forcing you back to the mattress.

“Do you want to be my woman, (Name)?” Dabi asks, hands gripping your wrists and holding them far above your head.

“I want to be yours,” you answer, and he rewards it with a quick brush of his lips against your collar bone.

“What do you want me to do to you?” he murmurs as he traces his tongue over your cleavage and kisses between your breasts.

You groan as rough skin placed soft kisses along your chest. You finally know what his lips feel like. “I want you to do everything to me.”

“Mm, how long have you wanted this?” Dabi questions and moves his lips to yours, making you tense. It takes only a second or two for you to relax and accept his advance.

“A few months now,” you confess shyly before Dabi kisses you deeper and shifts his body on top of yours. He lays on top of you, smothering you under his full weight. You whimper from the heat of his body, and he moves his hips against you, pleasuring himself with friction between the two of you.

“If you wanted me so bad, you should’ve just said so. I would’ve been happy to fuck you silly anytime, sweetheart.” His deep chuckle makes you flustered, and Dabi roughly bites down into your bottom lip. He pulls away to take in your bashful face. “You don’t know how hard it was to keep my hands off you,” and he makes sure you know it by squeezing you in scarred hands and dragging them all the way down the sides of your arms and width of your hips.

“How can you say that with such a straight face?” you mutter but your timid-ness only edge him further to keep going until you whine from his teasing.

“I can’t count how many times I woke up hard because of you, how many times I’ve had to jerk off with you sleeping next to me,” he teases, kissing down your bare shoulder and continuously pulling down your top before deciding to smolder through it instead by bunching it in his hands and pulling the weaken seams. You wouldn’t need to be wearing it anymore anyway.

“Dabi,” you squirm and bring your hands to your chest. You hiss when he grips them and slams them back above your head.

“No, no, no baby girl, you don’t get to hide from me anymore,” Dabi says, switching to holding your arms back with one hand as he flicks your nipple with the other.

“That’s not fair!” you whine with the grinding of his hip, and the cool laugh he teases you with brings a warmth between your legs.

“What was that? You want me to play with you more?” he questions and covers your nipple in his mouth, sucking aggressively. You moan as he bites down and pulls the sensitive nub between his teeth.

“Have you touched yourself thinking about me, baby girl?” Dabi licks the shell of your ear, and you shudder underneath him. You purse your lips, avoiding eye contact as you shake your head. “Not even a little?” he asks skeptically as he grasps your hand, slowly sliding it between your legs.

“I don’t think you’re telling me the truth,” he whispers and kisses your neck then nips at your earlobe. “Show me what you do to yourself, I want to know.”

You unfurl your fingers and nervously stroke them underneath your shorts and over your panties.

“That’s my girl,” he purrs, and you groan as he lustfully watches you stroke underneath your shorts. He decides to pull them off to get the full show before forcing your hand away to remove your underpants. “Keep going,” he commands, and you press your fingers back to your bare skin, curling up into yourself as you bite back a moan. He licks his fingers and goes back to teasing and rolling his wet thumb over your nipples. He pulls them roughly and strokes you with the scarred skin on the back of his hand, and the rough strokes make you throb around your fingers as more cum sleeks out to coat them.

Dabi tugs your hand away, and your breath catches in your throat as he slowly glances his tongue over the tips of your fingers, one by one. Heat comes from his hand as he strokes over your knuckles, sending a pleasant warmth through your palm. “Come here,” he orders, sitting on the bed and pulling you on top of him.

Dabi strokes your head, and you press against his cock, rocking slightly. Dabi licks his lips, watching your soft expression before deciding he wants to be inside of you right away. He shifts away and undoes his pants before settling you back onto his lap.

You grip onto him as he pulls you down on his dick, making you whimper, and he sighs himself with the slow start of his thrusts. You push your hands into thick, black hair and kiss him deeply. You inexperiencedly grind your hips into him as you do so but it’s not a problem as he digs his fingers into your thighs and guides your movements.

The dragging of heated fingers down your skin makes you hiss along with the streaks following in a thin trail. “Dabi,” you mewl, and he buries his head between your breasts to cover his own needy gasps. Teeth nip and bite, leaving marks over your breasts that speckle lightly with the color of blood before he licks it away with a groan, proving just how desperately he wanted you all this time.

The motions of his hips don’t stop as he slams in you with a rate that is undoubtedly going to have you sore, and you crane your head back and give your own marks on the back of his neck by dragging your nails over his skin. He growls as you pull at the back of his hair. You raise your hips and ride on him harder to quickly build up to your end with him.

You keep rocking on his lap until you’re both spent and empty. You pant tiredly and slowly climb off of him before laying down and hugging against his chest.

You look up at him with a soft smile, and he wants to meet it but frowns slightly when he sees the smear across your face from where he wiped your makeup. He shakes his head, and you furrow your brows as he slips away from you and adjusts his clothes before walking to the bathroom. You wait nervously, worrying as you hear the water run before he comes back with a wet towel in hand.

“Dabi?” you question but sputter as he sits on the bed and impatiently tries to wipe the smears away to look a little better and to see some of your real skin tone under the foundation.

“I don’t like not being able to see your face,” he bluntly scolds before tossing the towel off to the side when he finally is satisfied with his work. Then, he pulls your arm up and motions to the remains of the tattoo there. “And no more of this, understand?” he warns you as he pushes you back down under him.

“I won’t,” you whisper, and he slowly drops your arm as he comes back down to bite your lips. His hands squeeze your biceps as he pulls you flush against his body.

“Good girl," he purrs. "Now, give me more sugar," he demands before heavily kissing you and pushing you down for the second time that night.

[skiller0dani]

You | Dean Winchester

Summary: You’re a shapeshifter, and you’ve fallen in love with the notorious Dean Winchester. You manage to hide what you are, but what will he do once he finds out? 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Shapeshifter!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Drinking, Smut, 

A/N: sorry, been forgetful and lazy. :c ALSO I don’t write smut much. So just bear with me. It might not be long, but I promise I’ll get better at it. 

Masterlist Part 2

You pulled the glass to your lips, okay enough with all this. You think to yourself- your hands are shaking. He’s in the very corner of your left eye, this is the 4th body you’ve tried on him. Still nothing, not even a glance. He focuses on hustling the drunk men out of their money at pool, a cocky poker face covering his expression. He always seemed so sure of what he was doing, of what he wanted- he radiated confidence and control. It was so painfully intoxicating to you. You pulled down your dress a little, your chest popping out more as you prepare to approach him- you turn only to bump into an overweight abdomen with a stained shirt. “Oh sorr-” His hand comes down to your shoulder, his bearded face and stained teeth inches from your ear. “N-no problem sexy,” His voice is sultry and slurred, you feel a retching in your stomach from the smell of his breath. You look down at the ground, your fingers inching towards your knife secured safely in your clutch. “Thanks again,” You say with a tight smile, trying to move past him but his fingers curl around your arm.

You feel your temper rising, and you get ready to sweep the disgusting mans feet out from under him when he’s ripped off you. When your eyes focus on your rescuer your eyes widen- Dean. Your heart is thumping when Dean shoves the man to the ground, “douchebag.” He says, before placing a hand on the small of your back to lead you out of the Bar. You smile shyly when it’s just the two of you standing on the curb, “you okay sweetheart?” He asks, genuine concern in his eyes. You flush, tucking your dark brunette hair behind your ear. “Yeah, thanks Dean-” as soon as you said it, you wanted to slap yourself. This is the closest you’ve gotten to him in weeks and you’ll have to change all over again. His eyebrow lifts, his guard up. “I mean you’re kind of a legend among the hunters.” You quickly save, with a smile. He relaxes a bit upon realizing that you’re a hunter- or rather the hunted pretending to be a hunter. “So you’ve heard of me?” He asks, that cocky smile returning to his face. Oh yeah, you’ve heard of him. Tough as nails, knows Death personally, best friends with an angel. Everyone’s heard of him, kind of puts a big target on his back though. “Where’s that brother of yours?” “Research,” he says with a smile, taking his car keys out of his pocket. 

You follow carefully, “so what’s your story?” Dean asks, reaching to unlock his car. You chuckle, “really long and not important.” He laughs, it’s much easier to talk to him than you thought it would be. “Couldn’t be worse than mine.” Dean jokes, leaning back against his car- you have to bite your lip to suppress a moan. He’s also acutely aware of the fact that you already know his life story, “does that get weird? I mean most of all hunters nowadays know who you are, you’re a hunters version of a celebrity.” You ask, and Dean thinks for a moment. Almost as if he’s never even considered it that way. “Would love it if it came with perks, I’m still always gettin’ shot.” Dean half jokes, half says seriously. “Me too,” You agree, lifting your shirt to reveal the bottom of your stomach, the once smooth skin riddled in bullet wounds. Dean lifts his own shirt to reveal a few matching scars of his own. “My kinda girl,” He smiles and you try to control the raging fire burning in your cheeks and stomach. “Hey you wanna come get a drink with me? I got the best stuff at the bunker,” Dean asks, no hint of nervousness at all. “Bunker?” You ask with a smile, he laughs. “Yeah I’ll explain when we get there.” Dean holds the door open for you, and you graciously sit in the passenger seat and a part of you can’t even believe this is really happening. 

Every hunter and supernatural being alike knows who Dean Winchester is, and he may possibly be the most dangerous man you’ve ever sat in a car with but he doesn’t feel dangerous. He’s kind, and funny, but still guarded and closed off. You want to say something to ease the silence but your brain is fogged with arousal and the smell of his cologne, being so close to him is making you dizzy. “The infamous Impala,” You muse. Dean chuckles, one hand lazily holding the top of the steering wheel. You know it’s going to be hard to fool Dean Winchester, he may as well have been born with a built in bullshit detector. You however have lots of practice, you’re smarter than your Shapeshifter brothers and sisters. They think eliminating the hunters will give them their best chance at survival- you disagree. For one, you hate how monstrous they are, you have absolutely no desire to kill people- you have no issues with killing the ones who do. You’ve also had the brains to figure out that a hunter would never expect a Shapeshifter to be a hunter, immediately gets the radar off your back. “Even my car is famous?” Dean laughs and you can’t help but be addicted to that sound. “She’s almost sexier than you are...” You say, your cheeks heating at such a forward statement come out of your mouth. Dean gives you that look that so many lucky women have gotten in the past. The look you never thought he’d give you. 

The Bunker is not what you were expecting. It was a small metal shack in the middle of a forest. You follow Dean down a set of stairs and when he unlocks the door you see a whole house inside this metal shack. A map room and library are in your view, and you see Sam sitting in the library- eyes skimming over a book. But when you try to enter, you can’t. Dean turns to look at you, his eyebrow quirking up. “You comin’?” You can tell he’s suspicious, you have to think of something now! “Forgot my cell in the car, go pour those drinks you promised me.” You smile and Dean sends you a wink before disappearing down the stairs and around the corner. Panic sets in as you look around the walls of the Bunker, shit. The entire thing is Warded- tears spring in your eyes as you turn to leave. You want to go in after Dean so bad but you can’t get in, and when Dean finds out...you may as well start digging your own grave. “Who are you?” Sam asks from behind you, causing you to jump. “Y/N. My mother is a witch. Put some sort of protection spell on me, I guess you have a ward for that?” You lie with a laugh and Sam’s suspicion drops. He hands you a key and then, suddenly, that magical wall disappears. You feel the silver key burn your hand and you do your best to ignore it as you quickly hand it back to Sam. “Not often my brother picks up a hunter. Or a witch.” Sam says, clearly not trusting you. 

“I’m not a witch, just a hunter. My mother is a witch. I want nothing to do with her.” You lie again, feeling a pang of guilt every time you do. “Not flirting with my brother are you?” Dean teases as he enters the Bunker, having changed his clothes- wearing a dark t-shirt and flannel now. He hands you a glass filled with Whiskey, his gaze fixed on you. Sam awkwardly clears his throat, “wouldn’t dream of it.” You smile, nearly forgetting Sam was even in the room. He excuses himself quickly, leaving you and Dean alone. Dean takes a slow step towards you, his eyes darkening. You drink your Whiskey in one gulp and in an instant Dean lifts you to sit on the table as his lips press against yours. Both your glasses go smashing to the ground, the shattered glass splintering off everywhere. All you can focus on are his hands- God those damn hands. They’re inching up the bottom of your shirt, so his fingers can dance around your hips. Your arms wind around his neck as his body presses firmly against yours, and at first you don’t know what to do with your legs until Dean’s free hands folds them around his hips. He ruts against you, the friction makes you breathe out a moan. 

Dean presses kisses to the corner of your mouth, the wet trail leading down your neck as your nails dig into his back. His hands grab the hem of your shirt, yanking it up and over your head. To be honest- you don’t do this. With anyone, sex means something to you. You’ve only given yourself to one other person before Dean. You know his reputation- hooking up is part of his weekly routine but you were going to let yourself pretend, for one night, that this was more than that. Your breasts were exposed, behind your black lacy bra that caused Dean to let out a low groan. Dean pressed kisses to the swells of your breasts, his hands easily finding the clasp. Before he unclasps it he looks up at you, asking for permission among all the action driven lust. You nod feebly, your eyes lidded as he easily pops open the clasp, his pupils blowing wide at the sight of you. “Can’t let my brother see this,” Dean says, lifting you up- your legs still around his waist. His arms press you against his chest- ensuring his brother can’t get any looks. Intentionally or accidentally. He kicks open his bedroom door and then kicks it shut before dropping you on his bed. “Goddamn,” Dean groans, practically salivating at the sight of you half naked and laying beneath him. 

“You’re too dressed,” You smile- trying to shake off some of your nerves. You were shaking like a leaf and your heart was nearly beating out of your chest- you hoped Dean wouldn’t notice either. Unfortunately Dean can sense your nerves and sheds his shirt with an easy smile, knowing you aren’t the kind of girl he can fuck into the mattress. He doesn’t do this, normally this is the point he’d cut it off- he knows you’re not that kind of girl. But he decides to go gentler, he never does gentle with one night stands. He only does gentle when it means something more to him. Gentle leads to feelings. Feelings lead to loss. Or he’d have to do have that ‘I’m sorry but I can’t have a relationship right now’ conversation- they always lead to tears. But he doesn’t want to cut it off, so he’s going to break his own rule. He’d risk it for you. He slowly lowers over you, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips before his fingers find the button of your jeans. “May I?” He says, using his words this time. You giggle, your cheeks heating up as you nod nervously. Dean smiles at your red cheeks before popping open the button and pulling down the zipper. He can feel your body trembling, “relax baby. Just you and me.” Dean says softly, his hands curling into the waistband of your jeans. 

Your heart swells when he says ‘baby’ but you try to relax as he pulls your jeans down your legs, revealing your matching lacy panties. It surprises you how this went from rough and desperate, to slow and intimate so quickly. You should stop him you really should, with your current feelings towards him, and Dean being who he is, and you being who you are. This was definitely going to end in heartbreak, tears, and hating yourself for letting it happen. But you couldn’t help but let him continue as he presses soft, gentle kisses up your legs- closer and closer to your clothed center, a damp spot already forming on your panties. Dean’s kisses trail up your hips, your stomach and finally to the valley between your breasts. Tingling took over your entire body, it felt like you were laying on clouds. Sighs and moans fell from your lips when his lips encircled your nipple, gently biting and nipping at it. You started to squirm, the heat between your legs becoming to much to bear. “Dean...” you whimper, “hm?” His eyes flicker up to look at yours, “Need you.” You whine, hating now pathetic and needy you sound. Dean smiles before pulling away from you- you miss his warmth the second he’s gone. 

His hands reach for his belt, and you shake as he undoes it. “You okay with this?” Dean asks, noticing how nervous you are still. You nod again but Dean doesn’t continue removing his jeans, “need words for this one sweetheart.” You swallow thickly, trying to will your nerves away. “Y-yeah. Please Dean,” You half whine, and Dean gives in- he can’t say no to those needy lust blown eyes of yours. Dean takes his time undoing the button and zipper and pulls down his jeans and boxers in one tug. Your eyes widen at his size, how on earth is that going to fit inside you? You feel the panic setting in, what if this is a bad idea? What are you doing? You’re a shapeshifter, about to have sex with Dean Winchester, he’s a hunter. You get ready to stop him when he takes your hand. You didn’t even notice him lean over you again. That thought completely disappears as he lines himself up, and you can tell he’s holding himself back- which you appreciate greatly. “You ready baby?” He asks, his eyes locking with yours. You nod, but he gives you a look and you clear your throat. “Y-yeah.” You force out- your throat incredibly dry. Dean’s forehead presses against yours as he slowly eases himself in, the tightness overwhelming him. It’s taking every ounce of self control he has not to pound into you.

You feel the sting as he stretches you open, he’s much bigger than you thought. Dean groans, his hand still laced with yours. This feels so intimate, but you know it doesn’t mean anything to him- nothing like it means to you. You hold the tears back, preventing them from building in your eyes. Because crying during sex is a big turn on. Dean stays still, fully inside you until you tell him it’s okay to move. You let yourself adjust to him, waiting until the pain subsides before you squeeze his hand, telling him he can move. Dean knows his way around women, you know that. He’s only being gentle because he saw how nervous you were and he’s not a complete asshole. Dean slowly slides out before thrusting back in, you definitely see stars, a moan being pulled from your lips. Dean takes long deep and slow thrusts, his grip on your hand tightening as he whispers words of encouragement in your ear. “Doin’ so good sweetheart,” He presses kisses to your neck, “you feel so good Y/N,” he keeps thrusting, making sure the pace stays slow and deep. Your arms hold him securely, your face in his neck as he continues his slow torture. You’ve been so infatuated with Dean for so long but you didn’t expect this, you didn’t expect to want him to be more than that. When you come, Dean comes too and it feels perfect. But for how long? 

The sun wakes you up the next morning, as does the slight ache in your thighs. You find your body pulled against Dean’s, his arms wrapped around your waist. His face is in your neck, his breath fanning against your skin. You gently unwrap him from you as you scramble for your clothes. You shouldn’t be here- you shouldn’t be here. Last night should not have happened. You remember your shirt and bra are in the library and you curse to yourself as you throw on one of Dean’s shirts. You move to the door, your heart breaking as you look back and see him sleeping in bed- thinking you’re still there next to him. You want to get in bed with him again, but you can’t. In the past you’ve definitely wished you were human but now more than ever. You slowly close the door and creep out to the library, “morning.” You jump and let out a sigh when you see Sam. “Not often women sneak away from Dean, usually the other way around.” Sam comments, sipping at his coffee casually. You quickly grab your clothes, and you’re ready to head out when you notice you’re still wearing Dean’s shirt. “Silver doesn’t normally burn people either,” He says even more casually, causing your blood to turn to ice in your veins. 

You don’t know what to say when Sam looks up at you, and what you didn’t know was that you had tears in your eyes until a tear fell down your cheek. Sam turns the book he’s reading so it faces you, and the page he’s reading says Shapeshifters. “Don’t tell Dean.” You plead, you legs shaking. Sam’s expression softens, “look I don’t know what your story is but if you don’t kill people- then you’re not a monster.” Sam says and your mouth drops open, he isn’t going to kill you? “That would explain why you’re running away from Dean though.” Sam says, with a small smile and you relax. You misjudged Sam, you didn’t expect him to sympathize with you. “I can’t be here, I shouldn’t have come.” You say sadly and before Sam can answer you hear Dean’s door shut. He comes out into the library, a surprised look on his face when he sees you. “Thought you took off.” Dean says, brushing past you. He’s upset. “Dean-” “Anyone hungry?” He says, turning down a hallway and completely ignoring you. “Like I said, not many women run away from Dean.” Sam says, patting you on the shoulder as he follows his brother. 

[vaniri]

Eye of the storm [Arthur Morgan x Reader] - CHAPTER 1/2

warnings: tuberculosis 😧 (this fic takes place in the middle of chapter 6), light smut (the good stuff comes in chapter 2 😏), a bit of angst? Just loving our ill cowboy ;_;

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You sighed tiredly, leaning against the Saint Denis Stable wall. It was a hard day and you would be the happiest person alive if it finally ended. First, the stagecoach you tried to rob turned out to be completely empty, as all its passengers (and their precious belongings) disembarked at Emerald Ranch. Later, when you were going back to Rhodes to have a talk with your discouraged friend, who had tipped you off about this "wonderful opportunity", you got ambushed. By the damned Lemoyne Raiders! It wasn't the first time that happened, and you were not alone, but you absolutely hated being swooped by these obstinate morons. The fight was tough, but somehow you managed to survive mostly unaffected. Unfortunately, your poor horse, your beloved four-legged friend, wasn't that lucky and got a bullet.

It didn't look that bad, but still scared the shit out of you. You loved this creature and couldn't even think of losing her. You tended to her wound the best you could, but you weren't an expert, so you decided to take her to the city, where the stable owner could examine her properly.

Now you were watching as the man carefully inspected your horse, saying nothing but getting a bit impatient. He was quiet for too long, you thought, and that made you feel uneasy. You moved your gaze to your girl, standing motionlessly where you'd halted her and letting the owner scrutinize her whole without any objections, like a good horse she definitely was. She seemed calm and relaxed under the owner's touch, but in her eyes, fixed on you all the time, you saw she was just waiting for a sign to leave this place.

In other words: she was behaving as usual. That was a good sign.

"Seems like the bullet just grazed her, it's nothing serious." The owner informed, snapping you out of your musing. "She'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" You approached him swiftly, still uncertain. "And is it the only wound? Those... people who tried to rob us, they were fierce. We got under a spray of bullets in seconds, it's a miracle we got out of there alive."

"Her wound may look serious, but I assure you, miss, that it's nothing dangerous. There's no bullet inside, that's for sure. And I didn't see any other injuries, but I'll check again to be certain. I'll clean this one so it doesn't get infected, but she needs to rest now, at least for a day or two, and she'll be fully recovered soon. Would you like to leave her here for a while?"

You were going to agree, but your answer was cut off by sudden coughing, coming from the street. Your heart lurched with fear as it was growing louder and harsher with every second. You excused yourself from the conversation and rushed out of the building, where you knew your companion had promised to wait for you, after paying a visit to the gunsmith.

You found him doubled over by the stable wall, with one of his hands resting on it for support. The other one was clutching his chest, as if trying to ease the pain the coughing was visibly causing. His fit was violent, but fortunately ended pretty quick, and the man could breathe again. He hawked up what was irritating his throat and spit it out on the muddy sidewalk. Not wanting to look at it, he raised his head and then noticed you, watching him with a worried expression on your face. He immediately wiped his mouth with the back his hand and straightened up, trying to look as if nothing had happened. But you noticed the stain of blood his mouth left on his sleeve.

"Arthur?" You didn't even try to hide your concern. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. That's nothing." He waved his hand dismissively, covering his spit with his foot. "It's this air. Heavy with smoke from all these factories. It's hard to see anything here, let alone breathe with that shit."

You knew it wasn't the air. It was tuberculosis. It's been weeks since he got the diagnosis. During that time his health was deteriorating rapidly, due to terrible accommodation conditions, severe malnutrition, as money at camp was tight and food scarce, and constant stress and pressure some of the gang members put him under. Mostly Dutch, who was exploiting him as if he hadn't noticed the state his "best man" was in. Granted, Arthur did his best to hide the fact that many actions he used to take almost effortlessly before, now became difficult and exhausted him more with every day; but certain symptoms he'd developed were hard to miss. He couldn't deny he got weaker and visibly thinner. He blamed it on the shortage of food, but the truth was he had problems with ingesting even small meals. He had also trouble sleeping, as his coughing often jolted him out of his slumber, and when it did, his recurring night fever shot chills through his body, keeping him awake. Arthur of course tended to marginalize his condition, assured everyone who asked about his health that he was fine and his debility was just a temporary inconvenience. But you knew the truth, you saw it in his tired eyes and despondent face. Every day you watched him wither, succumb to the disease, and it filled your heart with trepidation.

"Yeah, I can feel it too." You played along, trying to lift his spirits. That illness was not only destroying him physically, but also mentally. "It burns my lungs and prickles my eyes. What an awful district to live in."

"The whole city is awful. When we're leaving?"

"Not so soon, I'm afraid. My horse needs to stay here for a while."

"How's she?"

"She'll be fine, but she needs to rest."

"You'll ride with me, then."

"We won't get to Beaver Hollow before night and I'd rather not risk getting into another shooting today." You raised your eyes to the sky. There was probably less than an hour left before the sunset, and riding through the Roanoke Ridge forest in the dark, especially when Murfrees were on the rampage, was a death wish. Which was very convenient for you - your current camp was a depressing place, where people only yelled and accused each other of being disloyal, and you took literally every opportunity to excuse yourself out of it. "Besides, you know I couldn't sleep, being so far away from my girl. It'll be better to stay around tonight."

"So we're setting camp outside the city."

"Where, in the bayou? Gators will eat us in our sleep. Or mosquitoes, those nasty little suckers. I'd rather stay here, in Saint Denis."

"I don't think it's a good idea."

"It is. The air is usually better where the saloon is, and a warm meal and some good sleep in a comfortable bed wouldn't harm you." You hopelessly believed that this could somehow improve his condition. Even a little. Because what else could you do for him? "Come on, Arthur. It's just one night, maybe two, in comfort and silence, away from all that bickering at camp. I'll pay for it. And for a bath." You eyed him up and down. "You definitely need one. With a bath lady, if you insist."

Arthur let out an exasperated sigh. He would rather sleep surrounded with gators and mosquitoes than in this damned city, but he knew better than to argue with you, you could be pretty adamant when it came to the matters involving his well-being. Besides, a warm bath didn't sound that bad. Nor did a bed that wasn't an old sleeping bag on the muddy ground. Especially if you would sleep beside him.

"Bath lady won't be necessary."

********************************

You sat on a creaky, but fairly comfortable bed, looking at a clock standing in the corner of your rented room. It's been a while since Arthur had left to take a bath, you realized. Well, he probably needed to do more scrubbing than you could have expected. At least his absence gave you a couple minutes to just sit and enjoy your moment of respite. You could get used to living like this: having a little house, or at least a room somewhere, a quiet and warm place of your own, where no problems of this world mattered. There would be no gangs, no robberies, no obligations to Dutch or anyone else, no bounties on your heads. Just you and Arthur, living your live peacefully together.

Oh hell, the bounty! You should have checked and made sure there was no prize on Arthur's head anymore - for that bank heist the gang had pulled a couple of weeks ago - before you decided to stay here. But you didn't see any posters with his face, or even anything resembling it, on the way to the saloon, and if you remembered correctly, Arthur had visited the city several times after returning from Guarma, without getting arrested. So you could probably assume that Saint Denis had forgotten about his sins. They always did. Still, you'd rather keep a low profile, just for sure.

You flopped down on your back and sprawled comfortably on the mattress, closing your eyes. Your life would have surely been much easier and filled with fewer problems if you hadn't been an outlaw. Not that you really regretted your life choices, you would have been much worse if it wasn't for Dutch and his gang. You should consider yourself lucky; they found you in your darkest hour, took you in, and cared for you when no one else did. They taught you how to survive in this harsh world, they showed you their ways, and let you become one of them. They became your family.

A family that was being torn apart for weeks. Not many things in your life hurt you more than seeing them all like this, at each others' throats and questioning their bonds. Sometimes you felt like everything around you was falling apart. But despite the pain it caused, you had to stay strong, for your own wits and for Arthur, who needed you sane more than anything else now.

"Sleeping already?" Came unexpectedly from the door. You opened your eyes and propped yourself up on your elbows, watching your companion enter the room.

"Almost. What took you so long? I've been starting to worry that you changed your mind and went camping in the bayou."

"Can't say it ain't tempting, but no. I went downstairs, tried to eat something. But" He shook his head with resignation. "you know."

"Yeah, I do. You planning to go back there, or head to bed? Because if the former, I need to remind you that we should lay low, even more than usual. No excessive drinking, no crazy business."

"Going to bed sounds easier."

"Your kingdom awaits, then." You sat up and patted the sheets beside you. "Clothes off. This ain't your cot, you ain't going to bed in these dirty rags."

"Rags, ouch." He feigned a pained expression, but obediently took off his shoes and unbuckled his belt. "These are the finest clothes in this city."

"I see remnants of mud on your knees. And something that looks like dried blood on your shoulder."

And that blood on your sleeve.

"Your clothes may be the prettiest in the state or look like taken off a destitute, you know I don't really mind. But they're still dirty. Off with them, now."

"Fine, fine."

Not giving a damn about decency and averting your gaze, you were watching as Arthur took his vest off and shucked off his suspenders, then slid his pants down his legs and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. You saw that contented smile that tugged at his lips when he noticed how engrossed you were by his little show and you nodded appreciatively, letting him know that you really liked what you had before your eyes. Even though it wasn't the same sight as a couple of weeks ago. Sure, his muscles were still well-defined and his shoulders to hips ratio absolutely breathtaking, as you tended to describe it, but he was noticeably thinner. His union suit wasn't as tight on his body as it used to be. It hung loosely around his certain parts, indicating that the man was still losing weight, even despite your persistent attempts to keep it on a more or less constant level.

"Hey, what are you doing?" He asked surprised when you got up off the bed, at the exact same moment he sat beside you, and picked up the trousers he left on the floor, along with the rest of his clothing.

"Taking care of your rags, so they won't look like literal rags tomorrow?" You folded them neatly and put on the sofa standing by the window. You did the same with his vest, and his shirt you slung over its back. You really tried not to look at that smear of blood on its sleeve, but your eyes darted to it before you could stop yourself.

"I could do this, you know?"

"But you didn't. And if I wasn't here, you'd rather leave them scattered around the room and slip them on as you found them tomorrow. Don't say that's not true, I know you too well, Arthur Morgan. I really do."

You were always around him, since the day Dutch let you in. Something drew you to this violent, but always effective and getting his job done man, he quickly became your role model and you looked up to him in literally every aspect of your new outlaw life. You wanted to be strong like him, intimidating like him, and as good or even better at shooting than him. You were watching him at every occasion, trying to learn and mimic his moves, expressions, his ways with the gun. Arthur wasn't particularly happy that you tagged along with him wherever he went, but you were never intrusive or really bothering him, so he accepted that fact and eventually got used to your presence. Sometimes he even taught you a thing or two, just to make sure you could handle yourself well.

You didn't even realize when it turned into something more. You stopped watching and only looked at him, enthralled by his handsome features. You gave up trying to become like him and just enjoyed the time you could have spent together. You really wanted to know him better but it wasn't that easy, Arthur had built so many walls around himself that going through them seemed nearly impossible. But you were patient. You made him feel comfortable around you; you listened to what he had to say and talked when he wanted to talk. You were always the first to cheer him up when he had a bad day, you took care of him and showed affection when he needed it. You became his real friend, with who he was comfortable enough to discuss literally every matter of his life, or just sit in complete silence for hours. He didn't even realize when he fell for you, but when he did, he didn't fight it, didn't try to push you away, didn't let the fear caused by his previous experience ruin it all. He trusted you and knew that you wouldn't leave his side, no matter what.

You two were officially a couple for quite a long time now, and riding together for even longer. You robbed people together, plundered houses together, stole horses sometimes, and even started some bar fights. Well, usually you did, but Arthur always ended them. You were through a lot, shit like Blackwater included, and you knew you could always rely on each other. The bond between you two grew stronger than anyone could have ever imagined and you considered yourself the luckiest person on Earth for having Arthur in your life.

"I'll try to deal with these stains tomorrow's morning." You promised, a bit tiredly, sitting beside him.

"You don't have to. I can live being a bit dirty."

"Oh, I know. But I'll do it anyway, try to make you look like a decent man. As always, and despite your strenuous attempts to remain a dirty cowpoke. Hmm, maybe fighting with you over that matter became my hobby at some point of my life?"

"You have a very weird hobby then, miss."

"I'm of a very peculiar kind."

Arthur chuckled, lightly, so it didn't provoke any coughing.

"Yes, you are. But you know what? You could be strangest woman in this country and I would still pick you over anyone else." He declared, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

A warm smile tugged at your lips when Arthur kissed the side of your neck. He took your chin in his hand and turned your face towards his, made you look him in the eyes. Then, he gave you more soft kisses, first on your forehead, next cheeks, nose, and the last one where you wanted it the most. It always surprised you how gentle that usually tough and violent man could be with you, how passionate this allegedly heartless outlaw became when his lips were on yours. You purred excitedly when his hand left your face and slid down your body, to your thigh, where it rested suggestively close to your crotch.

"I've got the impression you may want something." You remarked, breaking the kiss.

"Really? What gave me away?"

"It was a wild guess."

Maybe his hand, now caressing your heat through the layers of your bottom, was some kind of a hint. Or maybe it was Arthur's lips, working their way down your neck, tenderly kissing and sucking every bit of skin they reached. Yeah, you could definitely tell that he was in the mood.

"...And that's the moment you tell me to back off, ain't it?" He noticed pretty quickly that despite the fact you let him do anything he wanted with your body, you clearly weren't into it yourself. You didn't even touch him once.

"Sorry, Arthur. It's been a hell of a day. I'm exhausted. That would be a real shame if I fell asleep while you was fucking me."

"Something's wrong, am I right, [Y/N]?"

Making love with Arthur was absolutely wonderful. You loved the way he pampered your body, and how adored and wanted you felt under his lustful gaze and tender touch. You loved how he reacted to your displays of affection, how he wasn't scared to open up and show his vulnerable side, and that he let you worship his body. You knew Arthur had his demons, the ones that completely distorted his own body image and undermined his self-esteem. But he learned to believe your words of adoration more than the whispers in the back of his head. He trusted your love more than his intrusive thoughts.

His illness changed a lot in your relationship. Not the way you felt about him, obviously, but how you perceived certain things. You became more observant, more aware of the consequences your actions may have had, and some of them took a serious toll on your man's condition, you found out. Now you had to be a responsible woman and put Arthur's well-being first, take proper care of him before you could take care of his carnal desires. You couldn't recklessly make love every day anymore, as his deteriorating health was putting more and more limitations on his body. It couldn't always keep up with what his mind craved, so you had to be more cautious now.

"I'm sorry Arthur. I'm not in mood."

"It's okay. I understand." He took you in his arms and gently kissed the top of your head.

"I'm just... worried." You tried to explain yourself. "That coughing fit at the stable, I can't push it out of my mind, I don't know why. I know you had them worse before, but this one scared me so much."

"Shhh, I know this whole situation is hard for you, but try not to think about that. I'm feeling okay now. Even more than okay, having you here." He pulled you tighter against his chest.

You calmed down a little, listening to his still strong and steady, but a bit faster than usual heartbeat. You didn't like it when he saw you like that, concerned and unsure. But honestly, you'd rather be sincere with your man than hide your fears away and lie to make him believe that everything was alright. He wasn't that stupid.

"Can we just go to sleep now?" You asked pleadingly. "I'm really tired."

Arthur didn't oppose. After you undressed and put your clothes beside his, he took you back in his arms and lay down on the bed with you on top of him, locked in his loving embrace. You snuggled up to his chest, tucked your head under his chin, and drifted off almost immediately, lulled to sleep by soft music coming from the saloon downstairs.

[dkquills]

The Warden Chronicles - Chapter 1

On a threadbare mattress strewn on the floor of a derelict apartment, a young mage slept… Or at least he was trying to.

“Blue, wake up. I need your help with something.”

Durden groaned and swatted his friend away, burying his head in his pillow.

“C’mon, man. Please?”

Begrudgingly, Durden removed the pillow and opened his eyes. His friend crouched next to him, freckled face pleading like a stray puppy. “Speck, what the… What time is it?”

“Bout eight in the morning.”

Durden ran his fingers through his matted azure hair and sat up. “Fuck, I just got to sleep like… two hours ago. Gimme a sec.”

“Tagging all night again?”

“Yeah.” He yawned, noticing that he’d missed washing some paint in the creases of his knuckles. “Down on Gallows Ave.”

“The grime tunnel? That place is gross. Nobody goes down there unless you want dry tongued head from a tweaker or a knife in your ribs.”

“No blowjobs or stabbings for me, thank you very much. It was actually empty. Shocking.” Durden rubbed the barely formed crusts out of his eyes as his stomach growled at him. When was the last time he ate? “Well, it’ll be a little less grimy until the city finds it and sand blast it away. Then it can go back to looking like mold and piss stains. Urban improvement at its best.”

“What’d you paint this time? Another political toon? Pin-up girl?”

“Nah, nothing like that. I actually did a mural of a raccoon and a crow sharing a huge mushroom as an umbrella.”

Speck tilted his head questionably. “Sounds trippy. You been using your own product?”

“Course not… Well, just weed. You know I don’t touch the hard shit.” He stretched, earning few satisfying pops from his spine.

Durden and Speck had been peddling drugs for Auntie’s Gang for the better part of a decade. Her shop was down the road in a part of the slums that was perpetually under construction. ‘Auntie’s Sweets Coming Soon!’ was written on the front window in cloyingly sweet colors. A front, of course, that the local guards wisely chose to ignore.

In the back was the room where they got shipments of drugs and where they cut up the harder stuff. Amberbliss was one of her top items on the streets these days. An amphetamine that was the highest of highs, but came at a steep price to one’s money, health, and sanity. It was said that Auntie’s baked goods were the best.

Auntie – nobody knew her real name- though sweet in name and her middle aged, librarian-esqu appearance, was well known for her ruthless grip on those who owed her money, or worse, those who stole her product.

They still hadn’t found the last guy who stole from her, but her pet pigeons had been looking exceptionally well fed lately.

Nobody crossed her. Ever.

“Don’t ask me why I chose to paint it… I thought some of the bums down there would want something nice to look at. Raccoons and crows are scavengers just like them.” Just like us, he thought. “The grime tunnel is their umbrella, after all.”

“Whatever you say.” Speck didn’t look impressed.

Durden rolled his eyes. “What did you wake me up for again?”

Speck sat back on the floor and swatted a roach away. “Auntie wants me to run a package out to the East Pith and I don’t want to go alone.”

Fumbling for his pants, Durden scanned the room for his shirt. “You go out there all the time. What do you need my help for?”

Speck put his hands together and got on his knees, pouting his lip out and making his eyes as big as they could possibly go. “Pleeeeaassssee?”

“Oh my gods, stop it.”

After pulling his shoes on, Durden found his pack and rolled himself a cigarette with the last pinch of his weed in it. He lit it, taking a deep drag. He’d have to remember to buy more once he was paid. He’d spent most of his money on paint last night. “Fine. I’ll help, but I want three things from you.”

Speck nodded.

“One, quit calling me ‘Blue’. I hate that shit. Two, we’re getting breakfast on the way. I’m starved. And three, I want half the cut since you woke my ass up so early. Just let me brush my teeth before we go.”

“Oh my gods, Blu- Durden. Thank you! But… I don’t have any money for food. Not till we make the drop.”

Durden smirked and blew smoke out of his nostrils. “When has that ever stopped us?”

The tent market of Malus Pith was a hodgepodge to say the least. Generally pop-up or rolled carts clogged up the main thoroughfare. Most of it was good people trying to make a buck despite the shady neighborhood. So long as people kept their wallets close and their head down, one wouldn’t expect much trouble. Already it was bustling with people eager to get the best picks of the day in produce and other goods. The scent of spiced meats, nuts, and hot cider wafted from the food carts, making Durden’s stomach growl. He double checked his pockets and found only the scant change he had left over from buying his paint and smokes the previous evening.

Thankfully, apples were plentiful and cheap this time of year.

Making his way over to a produce stand he eyed the flat of chicken and duck eggs for sale before turning to the variety of apples. He selected two big golden ones, noticing the vendor eyeing him suspiciously, her hand resting on the hatchet on her hip as a silent warning. Her expression changed when he actually produced a bill from his pocket. She turned her back to him for an instant to make change and handed it back to him with a thanks.

He tossed Speck an apple as the two of them made their way down the busy street. “I thought you didn’t have any money for breakfast?” said Speck, taking a big crisp bite.

“I only had enough for the fruit. These however-” Durden produced two eggs out of his coat pockets.

“You sneaky bastard. Can I have one?”

“No. Mine.”

Once they rounded a corner Durden tucked behind a delivery truck and held one of the eggs between his hands and blew hot breath on it. Slowly the egg grew warm, then hot to the touch. Durden continued this until he almost burned his palms. Placing the first egg on a ledge, he repeated the act with the second one.

Speck scanned the crowd behind him to make sure nobody was watching. “Aren’t you worried someone is going to see you doing that?”

Durden scoffed and cracked the egg against the brick wall before peeling it. Steam wafted from it in the cold morning air. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about the drugs in your pocket?” he whispered.

To that, Speck didn’t say anything. He just kept an eye on the passing city guards across the street while Durden ate. Speck was the only person that knew Durden was a mage, and honestly, he should have given him more credit for keeping his secret.

“You manage to save up enough money for that train ticket yet?” Durden asked between bites to pass the time.

Speck sighed. “For the ticket, yes. Funds for when I get out, no. It’s why I’m covering Beth’s customers.” He turned toward Durden. “I still think you should come with me. See what else is beyond the walls and explore Loralli. Maybe find a place more tolerant of someone with your… talents.”

Durden looked from his friend up to the fifty-foot stone wall that made up Malus’ outer protection ring. Its top was stringed with sharp spikes that crested the ridge like a dragons back and glittered in the morning sun, protecting them from the bandits and wildlife that called the outside world home.

He shook his head.

While the walls were initially erected to keep the dangers of the Waste out, Durden always felt like it was a prison. Even if he started saving money like Speck had there was no way he’d earn enough to start a life elsewhere. Besides, he knew very little about even the closest cities like Hyperion, Helios, and the Port of Jebrahl. They might be even less tolerant to mages than Malus was. At least here he knew he could hide it pretty well.

Speck, on the other hand, just wanted to better himself. He’d been studying small engine repair and was getting pretty good at it too. He wanted to find honest work. Maybe see a little bit of the world while he was at it.

Feeling a pang of guilt for withholding much needed calories from his friend, Durden tossed Speck his uneaten apple.

After he had eaten most of it, Durden asked, “Tell me the truth. East Pith is bad and all but you’ve worked that territory loads before. What gives?”

Speck swallowed guiltily, wiping juice from his lips. “It’s Tanner’s place.”

Durden furrowed his brow. “Tanner… why do I know that name?”

“He’s John Carpelarosi’s nephew. Beth’s his usual dealer, but Tanner and his boys assaulted her last week. She’s still recovering.”

Durden’s shoulders tensed. Oh… That Tanner. “You’d think being in a mob family he would have his own supply for drugs.” Durden offered. The Carpelarosi family run the whole East Pith in Malus and some of the South too. A family that powerful normally had their own inner drug empire. Durden suspected Tanner must have done something nasty to have been cut off from the family, but apparently still had enough sway not to incur Auntie’s wrath after hurting one of her dealers.

There was something more to this, and Durden didn’t like it one bit.

  ~

Tanner lived in a second story apartment in what was arguably one of the worst parts of the Pith district. The façade of the brothel across the street was falling apart, the electrical cables that hung overhead thrummed angrily, and the gutters were so choked with garbage the streets were still wet from the rain the previous night. The feted stench of rotten food and human waste wafted through the cold air as a distant siren sounded blocks away.

Durden and Speck stepped over a man sleeping on the stoop and hit the buzzer on the front door. It took a few seconds before a gruff voice came over the other end. “Who is it?”

Speck cleared his throat. “Auntie’s Baked Goods.”

The door buzzed, unlocking to let them in.

Once they were standing in front of the apartment door Speck lifted his hand to knock, but the door swung inward before he could. A thin woman wearing only an oversized stained t-shirt stood there, staring through them with a haunted look. At first Durden thought they were at the wrong apartment, but a gravelly voice called from behind her, “Get out of the way!” She staggered to the side.

Durden felt a pang of guilt for the waif. She had a nasty bruise on the side of her face and if her behavior alone was any indicator, he’d say she was going through the beginnings of withdrawals.

“Bout time.”

Durden turned toward the voice and his eyes widened. Now he saw why Speck wanted backup. Durden had heard of Tanner, but had never seen him in person. The man stood nearly two heads taller than Durden and was over double his weight. He had a mean tattoo of a spider web that stretched across the back of his bald head and someone long ago had taken a chunk out of his left ear.

Speck produced a bag from his pocket and held it out for him to inspect. Tanner took it and held it up to the light, catching the amber crystals of amberbliss within like tiny prisms. The thin woman chewed her nails to the cuticle as she bore a hole in it with her eyes. Seeming satisfied enough, Tanner wordlessly pulled a wad of bills out of his pocket and tossed them at Speck before turning to the coffee table to lay out a line.

Picking up the bills from the floor, Speck counted them. “Ummm… Sir…” Tanner ignored them as he scraped the crystals across a small mirror in his hand. The thin woman fidgeted. Speck counted the bills again and a lump formed in Durden’s throat. “Tanner… you only gave me half the-”

“Fuck off,” Tanner spat. “We’re done. Out.”

Now what? They could stay and try and get the rest of the funds from this Sasquatch, or they could go back shorthanded and face Auntie’s wrath. Durden wasn’t sure which was worse.

He opted to step forward. Clearing his throat, he tried his best to look semi-authoritative. “Sir, I know you’re aware we can’t go back to Auntie without the funds. It’s business. I’m sure you underst-”

“I said, fuck off.”

Apparently, the waif had run out of patience, because when Tanner yelled ‘off’ she chose that moment to lean in to get her fix, but tripped, accidentally knocking the whole mirror out of his hand in the process. Durden watched in slow motion as the amber crystals tumbled down and heavily seasoned the filthy shag carpet below.

The woman froze. Durden and Speck froze. Tanner just looked up at the woman with rage in his eyes before winding up and punching her square in the face. Durden heard bone crack as she was lifted off her feet by the blow and collapsed over the coffee table. Blood gushed from her nose.

She moaned weekly and rolled over in the sparking bed of tempered glass.

Rubbing his knuckles, Tanner bent down and tried to salvage some of the crystals before they vanished further into the fabric sea, but between the mess and the rug fibers it was futile. He stood up and turned towards them. “Give me another bag.”

Speck was white as a sheet. “I… I don’t have any more.”

It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Durden’s heart dropped down somewhere into his guts.

Tanner stepped forward and spoke slowly. “Give. Me. Another. Bag.”

“I don’t…”

Durden’s back hit the doorknob before he even realized he’d been shoved. He wasn’t sure how Tanner had moved so fast for his size, but he had Speck lifted off his feet against the wall like he weighed nothing, strangling him. His friend’s eyes were impossibly wide and already bloodshot.

“I know you have more.” Tanner’s voice was hot gravel.

Speck thrashed his legs, but the kicks to Tanners midsection didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest nor did the clawing at his monstrous hands.

Durden scrambled to his friend’s aid, trying his best to push Tanner away, but he didn’t budge. Climbing behind him he jumped up and tried to get him into a choke hold, but before he could even wrap his arm around Tanners neck, the drugged out giant bit down on Durden’s forearm. Durden could feel the bite pressure in his bones.

Now stuck between trying to save his friend and his own limb, Durden wound up as hard as he could and punched Tanner square in his damaged ear.

It didn’t seem to dissuade the choking, but it did cause Tanner to open his mouth. Falling back, blood already began to run down Durden’s wrist and saturate his sleeve. Speck’s thrashing slowed, but the giant showed no intention of letting go.

Durden could probably run at this point. The door wasn’t locked after all and there was the fire escape. But what about Speck? He would be dead for sure.

Looking around for something anything to separate the two, his eyes finally landed on an oversized glass ashtray on the floor next to the shattered coffee table. Picking it up he heaved it at Tanner with all his strength. It made solid contact with the addict’s forehead, splitting his eyebrow open. Blood squirted forth, splattering Durden’s shirt and the carpet beneath him.

Speck dropped to the ground like a ragdoll. His attacker paused for a moment and stumbled, more surprised than in pain. After an instant of confused stupor, Tanner turned his rage to Durden. Instead of getting choked-out, Durden was picked up by the collar of his jacket and the next thing he knew he was airborne. Glass sliced the back of his neck and cheek as he passed through the window and landed on the fire escape beyond with a painful clang. The railing bent with the impact before he fell to the rusted slats below.

Blood was soaking through the arm of his sweatshirt now, cold and sticky against his skin while another trickle slid down his cheek, mixing with the tears he never realized had started flowing.

Glancing through blurred vision and the shattered window, Durden could see Speck lying there. Still as a corpse.

Something bubbled up inside Durden that he couldn’t quite explain. At first it felt like he was going to be sick, but the feeling expanded up through his chest and down his arms. It morphed and shifted into a tingle then a purr of energy that he felt at his very core.

The world spun on its axis. A thrum of electricity and sparks from the damaged power lines lit up Durden’s blurred vision like fireworks as Tanner tried to fit his thick frame through the broken window.

He beheld Tanner with a mix of fear and hate so corrosive he felt it would melt him alive.

All it would take was one more push and Durden would be cast to the pavement below. Tanner got his shoulder through the window, cutting his own flesh as he did. Though he didn’t seem to notice. Pure, drug addled rage was all that was behind those eyes, and Durden was certain it would be the last thing he ever saw.

In that moment the smell of ozone and static filled his nostrils as his hair began to stand up on end. Ropes of electricity arced from the nearby power lines. The transformer growled and popped angrily. Lifting his hand toward Tanner there was an instant of fear in the addict’s expression before the damaged transformer exploded. Electricity ripped through Durden like a conduit and exited through the tips of his fingers.

So, this was what it feels like to be hit by lightning.

Spots flashed before Durden’s vision. He distantly felt his body collapse on the metal fire escape and could smell burnt flesh as the welcoming veil of unconsciousness enveloped him.  

[ramblinganthropologist]

Writober 2019 - 3 (Pre-canon)

Summary: Nihlus and Alistair Shepard had to talk SOME time on the Normandy before Eden Prime, right? Something’s in the air, and it’s enough to almost make a man forget he was nerding over a sexy ship. Almost. The Normandy is one sexy ship after all.

---

There was nothing like checking out a new ship to get the blood pumping.

No doubt about it, the Normandy was a marvel of modern engineering and what could happen if two stubborn species put their oddly matched heads together. It had the power of the turian fleet, mixed with the ingenuity humans were so fond of employing. Where they crossed over, it was a fusion of efficiency and passion.

To put it bluntly, Alistair Shepard was in love.

“You are a beauty, you know that, right?” He patted the wall, his datapad streaming details. “Oh, you sexy thing you!”

Yes, he was talking to a ship. But it was a very handsome ship, and Joker could fight him on that.

Anderson had assigned him to check things out and get a feel for the details. After a few hours of scanning the place, he was almost through. The information on his screen was downright mind blowing – and best of all, he got to look at it whenever he wanted. He could probably spend days analyzing the data, finding more of the details left out of the official reports. They were always so dry – this was the meat, the heart of the ship. It was like he was present for open heart surgery and birth, all rolled up into one.

Was he getting emotional? He was, wasn't he.

“Anderson is going to love this data.” He hummed to himself as he turned to his bad side to check a screen. It had been beeping for quite some time, but he hadn't been able to see it. “Huh? Someone's coming down?”

It didn't give an ID number or rank, so that excluded pretty much everyone on the ship. The only person he could think of was maybe Anderson himself, or possibly Bo if she didn't feel like putting details in. Still, Alistair frowned as he tapped the message. It didn't sound like either of them.

The door behind him opened, and the clicking of talons caused him to whirl around. There was a turian standing in the room, arms crossed over his chest and face blank. At the sight of him, Alistair felt his face heat up, and his datapad went behind his back like he was hiding some kind of dirty magazine. To him, it kind of was.

And Nihlus Kryik had basically just witnessed him stuff it under the metaphorical mattress like a horny teenager. Great.

“Am I interrupting something?” His tone and mandibles suggested far too much; Alistair's face burned even brighter. “They said I would find you down here taking readings.”

His program was still running in the literal background, so... yeah? “I'm almost done. Captain Anderson requested a full work up.”

“From his best tech, no less. He must be expecting something interesting.” Nihlus walked further into the room, towards the screen Alistair had been compiling his readings in. “Care to share your preliminary thoughts, Shepard?”

Was he making fun of him? Alistair frowned as he looked down at his datapad. There were a lot of details, to say the least. Trying to put it together succinctly took up a large amount of brain power. As he worked, his eye wandered. He met the turian's gaze – Nihlus was laser focused on him. Down went his eye.

Damn it all, he was...

Still. He cleared his throat, putting his datapad to the side. “It's like you took the best of both our species' engineering feats and combined them into one ship. We've melded them into something completely new. It's fascinating. I can't wait to see him put through his paces.”

The turian cocked his head briefly. “Him? From what I've heard, humans tend to think ships are female.”

There was a flat tone to his voice that suggested a cultural translation of whatever he considered female – Alistair had done enough study to basically have a grip on turian gender and how it translated across the species. Still, the look in his eye almost suggested Nihlus was amused by this.

Damn it, when had he talked to Joker?

Alistair rubbed the short hairs on the back of his neck as he spoke. “Most do. Not me. The Normandy is a guy in my mind.”

“A very capable man, no doubt.” Nihlus' gaze was on him again. “The kind anyone would admire, perhaps.”

The tone of his voice did awful things to the human's stomach. Still, he kept his face as blank as possible as he nodded. Nihlus might not have been an enemy, but he was a Spectre that Council had just so happened to position on the Normandy. This was no polite meeting of the minds – he was watching for something.

Or someone. It didn't take a genius to narrow his targets down to a very short list.

“You didn't come down here to talk about the ship.” Alistair put his datapad back in its pouch and checked his omni tool for details of another scan he was running. “So, I assume you're here to watch somebody.”

Turians didn't smile like humans did, but he was pretty sure Nihlus gave his version of a smirk as he crossed the room to meet him there. There was very little space between them, armor almost brushing against fatigues. So close, almost in touching range.

It was a little too close for a friendly chat.

“You're as perceptive as Anderson suggested. No wonder he wanted you on the Normandy.” The smirk was in his tone as his eye roved up and down. That... was a tactical overlook, to say the least. Now Alistair's stomach was really flopping. “You must be popular.”

From his studies, he knew turians had subvocals that most humans couldn't pick up. However, Alistair was getting the feeling he knew what the other man was projecting. Given both their positions, it was a little inappropriate.

Not that he was complaining. Nihlus was handsome, to put it mildly. And if he was interested...

“I keep to myself.” A beeping from his wrist made the human grimace. “Oh, great. We're heading to Eden Prime.”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I need to go get ready and get the rest of my team.”

“We'll talk afterwards. There are some things I want to discuss with you in private.” Nihlus headed towards the door, but looked back briefly. There was nothing casual in that gaze – he was raring to go, and not to shoot something. “See you later, Shepard.”

And then he was gone, leaving Alistair alone with his traitor hormones and a head full of nonsense. The human groaned and shook his head hard to get some rather inappropriate thoughts out of his head. He had to focus on the mission.

That... was going to be hard.

---

“Stripes spoke to you down below?”

“His name is Nihlus, Bo.”

“Stripes, Nihlus, same thing.”

The soft clicking of armor being put into place created a steady rhythm in the small room. Bo and Alistair were old hands at this, and it was all muscle memory. That left their mouths free for talking as they strapped into their gear.

The large marine checked her shotgun before putting it on her back. “He's into you.”

“No, you think?” Alistair's voice was dry as he adjusted his leg armor, tightening it by a fraction of an inch. “He was practically screaming he wanted to do it right there.”

“Thank the gods for a turian's sense of duty then.” The sarcasm dripped from Bo's voice as she pulled on her gauntlets and flexed her large fists. They had just upgraded the shields on them – better for punching the shit out of people. “You two meeting up after we hit Prime?”

Most people wouldn't have gotten an answer to that, but Bo wasn't most people. Alistair trusted her with his life and then some. If anyone deserve to know, it was her. Besides, she probably had money riding on it, and if she was getting it from Joker he would be more than happy to help make the pilot a little poorer.

He liked the guy, but it was fun to make him lose.

“He said we'd talk. That can mean anything to a turian.” He slipped his Striker pistol into its holster after checking to make sure the heat gauge was working. With all his modifications, sometimes it could act a little funny. “You think this counts as foreplay?”

Bo snorted as she stood up, towering over her partner. “To a turian? It's practically a proposal. Should I start planning the wedding?”

“You're an ass and I hate you.” Alistair's cheeks burned as he checked his omni-tool: 10 minutes til the drop. “Come on, we need to go get Kaidan and Jenkins so we can go.”

Nihlus had probably already left, off to go do Spectre things. Still, Alistair was glad for that as they headed towards where the rest of their team was waiting in the airlock. A familiar tension settled into his skin as they walked. It was almost time.

Still, he wasn't too worried. After all, it was just a routine mission to check out a Prothean artifact. How difficult could it be?

[nothowonenightstandswork]

One Shot - Shape of You

Bucky x OC

Warnings: Language, Implied Intimacy

Notes: First time posting anything. I’m sure a million things are wrong about it. Cliche title is the song currently stuck in my head.  

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re back early!” Sam replied from his seat in Bucky and Sam’s common area. He was on monitor duty tonight.

“Sam, it’s almost 4 in the morning. It’s not exactly early,” Bucky replied. Bucky’s suite of rooms are on the other side of the common space from where Sam is watching the monitors, lounging on the couch, and eating ice cream. He hadn’t really intended on staying out so late, but this time he didn’t let Sam’s needling get to him.

“You’re still the first one back... Well?” Sam pushed, “How’d it go? You check out that place I told you about?” The place Sam is referring to is, for lack of a better name, a bar for people with powers. The owner is apparently from Asgard. As a result, it’s one of the only places in town where the alcohol is strong enough to be effective.

“Yeah, we did. You were right, it’s…” Bucky smiles, thinking about his evening. “It’s more my speed.”

“Nah, man, I see that look! Give me the details! Desk duty is boring, let me live vicariously through you!”

“A gentleman never tells,” Bucky evades with a smile. “Night, Sam.” He continues on through the common room to his suite in the tower.

“Come on, I told you about the place, you owe me! Are you humming? What song is that! Share, man!”

“Good night, Sam.” With a backward wave, he shuts the door behind him.

                                                        ---

The soft click of the front doors being pulled gently closed, is loud as a shot, slicing through Val’s light doze. Instead of opening her eyes, she instead opens up the shields she uses to keep other people’s thoughts out and feels the space around her. The nearest awake mind is in the hall and moving away. He seems to be happy and is humming.

Oh! She thinks as she sits up in her now empty bed. The other side is still faintly warm from its recent occupant. The rest of the studio apartment is easily visible from her bed and the only clothes scattered around the floor are her own. Guess he had places to be, she chuckles to herself, as she stretches to turn on the bedside lamp. The clock says 3:15 am. She pulls the blankets back up onto the mattress and snuggles down underneath, waiting for sleep to arrive once more. Sleep returns reluctantly, indignant at being startled, and Val has just enough time to decide to be pleased with the evening’s outcome

Morning still arrived way too early. The sunlight glaring in through the top down shades. I purposely chose this apartment so that the sun would help me wake up, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. She thinks as she kicks the covers off petulantly. The motion awakens a few sore areas that make her smile quietly in remembrance. The phone ringing cuts quickly through her reverie. She darts from the bed to the bar separating the kitchenette from her bedroom/living area.

“Hello?” she answers. There can only be a few options as to caller, so she’s a little shocked to hear an unfamiliar voice.

“Hello, Ms Bracca, this is Darlene calling from the Westside Veteran’s Center. I’m calling to inquire if you received our correspondence and to remind you that your appointment is at 9 this morning. Please bring your letter of introduction and a form of current ID. Thank you very much and we hope to see you soon.” The line abruptly goes dead.

“Uh, yes, Darlene. I did, Darlene. I will, Darlene. Good bye.” Val mutters to the phone. She checks the clock, it’s only 630am. Fuck you, Darlene. She adds mentally. No reason to call so early. Bullshit. If I didn’t need this contract, I’d…  she grumbles to herself and she walks to the only separate room in the apartment; the bathroom.

                                                         ---

“Rise and shine, Sam! The sun is up! We got work to do!” Bucky shakes Sam awake from where he has fallen asleep on the couch.

  “I will kill you, if you don’t let me sleep,” Sam mumbles from underneath his arm. He peeks blearly at his phone. “7am! The B Widow herself didn’t get back in to relieve me until 5, man. Two hours is not enough.”

“Suit yourself. I’m going to go workout. You stay here and sleep off your boring, non-vicarious night.” Bucky knew the one thing Sam liked more than sleep was gossip and was pretty confidant the goad would work.

“You know,” Sam says sitting up and tossing a cushion in Bucky’s direction. “You are pretty Up this morning. Do I detect a hint of… happiness?”

“Bucky hooked up last night,” Natasha interjects as she saunters into the room. “Why are you still sleeping, Sam? The sun is up.”

“Na-ta-sha.” Sam enunciates each syllable snarkily. “How the hell are you so cheery? You rolled in even later than he did.” Natasha doesn’t answer, just starts rummaging in the common kitchen’s cabinets. “Hey, lady, get your own coffee. That stuffs ours.”

“These aren’t,” Nat says, holding up a bag she’d pulled out from under the sink. “Later, fellas.”

“If you’re coming with me, get changed, Sam,” Bucky adds.

“Are we not going to talk about her hiding stuff in OUR rooms.”

“If you don’t hurry, we aren’t gonna talk about anything.” Instead of waiting, Bucky heads for the rec area.

Stark might not have been overly pleased that he was living here, but he wasn’t stingy with space. This floor housed a rec area and 3 sets of suites. Sam and Bucky shared one. Nat and Wanda shared the second. Steve and Clint shared the third. Clint had his own apartment in Bed-Stuy so Steve usually had his to himself. And Natasha tended to treat all common spaces as her own; squirreling away supplies in whatever area made the most sense at the time.

Today, the rec area was quiet. Steve liked to be up early and was finished with his morning workout before Bucky was dressed most mornings. Nat was on monitor duty, Clint was probably at his own place and Wanda has been out on assignment with Vision since last week. “Assignment.” Bucky thinks to himself.

He has barely started his warm-ups before Sam rushes in, hastily pulling a t-shirt on.

“So, you gonna tell me their name?” he picks up, as if no time has passed.

“No.” Bucky grunts while stretching.

“Are you going to see them again?” Sam pushes.

“No.”

“ A one night stand, huh? You surprise me, Barnes. You gonna tell me how you met?” Sam pries.

“No.” Bucky replies. The look on Sam’s face makes all the monosyllable answers worthwhile.

“OH COME ON!” Sam explodes. “Why the hell are you teasing me if you aren’t gonna tell me anything!”

“It got you to come work out, didn’t it?” Bucky grins at Sam’s visible irritation.

“I hate you,” Sam say flatly, “you know that right?”

Bucky had a great comeback ready, but was interrupted by Steve’s arrival.

“Sam! Suit up! Wanda called and she needs some back-up.”

“I’ll get my stuff,” Sam responds, suddenly all business. Steve turns to face Bucky.

“Buck--”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll hold the fort. Be careful out there.”

“We want you out there with us, we do, but-” Steve reaches out to put a comforting had on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Steve. I know. Go help Wanda.” Steve gives his shoulder a squeeze before nodding and heading for the elevator.

The Winter Soldier’s visibility in the intelligence agencies has been an open issue for awhile now. Stark, or more accurately, Maria Hill courtesy of Stark Industries has been working on it, but traction has been slow.

“Hey, man,” Sam says as he looks around the door; suit on, gear on his shoulder. “If you aren’t busy, I was supposed to interview a new therapist at the VA today. Why don’t you take that?”

“Sam, what do I know about therapists? Or interviews?”

“Look, man, trust your gut. And if you can’t, stall and I can take care of it when I get back.” Sam taps the door jamb once with his hand before walking off toward the elevator.

“Sam, what… time… is… the interview….” Bucky trails off as he hears the elevator doors close. He sighs.

                                                         ---

Where the FUCK is that letter of introduction? Val knows it was on the counter. Did it get knocked onto the ground in the moment last night? She’s checked the couch, under the couch, on top of the stools at thebar. Where could it… she eyes the note her guest had left last night before leaving.

Thank you, I had a wonderful evening. I thought it best not to wake you. -J

“Did he…,” Val flips over the paper and there it is, her letter of introduction from Sanctuary. She flips the letter back over to look at the note. It’s written in pen. “Of course it is!” she shouts. Letter in hand, she looks at the clock 8:30. She can make it if she runs. She grabs her coat, phone and keys, pulls the door shut behind her, goes back to lift up on the handle so it actually latches, and runs to the elevator and her appointment.

Sam’s office is even more boring than Bucky expected. Since moving here from DC, Sam had been put in charge of managing the outreach programs for the Westside Veteran’s Center. Part-time. Gratis, of course. “I’m hardly here,” he had said previously, “didn’t seem right to ask for money too.” The office, shared office, Bucky corrected himself, looked just as part-time as the position. Bare walls, no photos, two chairs and a desk. Even the small window looked out at a brick wall. Charming.

Sam’s secretary, Darlene had given him a thrice over and a gimlet stare when he’d arrived claiming to be performing Sam’s interview today. After a full two minutes of scrutiny, she’d finally shrugged and let him into the office. She wordlessly handed him a folder before going back to her desk. Inside was his information about his interviewee. He’d gotten through the first paragraph when he heard a woman’s voice outside.

                                                          ---

She made excellent time on her way here. It would have been faster if she was willing to just vault cars in public, but as it was she had ten full minutes to spare before the appointed time. The door to Sam Wilson’s office was closed when she’d arrived and a battleship of a woman was waiting impatiently, so Val spent a few minutes in the ladies’ room to neaten up. She didn’t have to LOOK like she’d ran here, after all.

I don’t know why I’m nervous, she thought. Just business as usual.

The door to the office was open when she exited the ladies’ room. The woman, Darlene, according to her nameplate, expressionlessly watched her approach.

“You must be Ms. Bracca,” she said before Val had even stopped. “Your assistant recommended that I call early this morning, in case you overslept. May I see your ID?” Val wordlessly fishes out her driver’s license and hands it over. A quick check and Darlene hands it back, before waving her toward the office just down the hall. “He’s in his office. Go ahead.”

“Uh. Thanks.” Val says before slipping her ID back into her jacket pocket. She pulls the letter of introduction out on the inside pocket of her coat. Folded in thirds, the note from last night’s anonymous paramour “J” is easily visible, so she unfolds the paper, and prays Sam Wilson doesn’t see it.

                                                            ---

Eight steps are all the warning he gets before a voice says from the doorway.

“Sam Wilson, I’m Valeria Bracca, from Sanctuary,” she says to his back.

Bucky turns as she extends her arm to hand him a piece of paper and freezes. Heat rushes to his face as he recognizes the woman from last night.

“You’re Sam Wilson?,” the woman asks, doubtfully. She either hasn’t recognized him or has a better poker face than he does. She’s prettier in the daylight, he thinks before snapping back to reality.

“Uh, no,” he stammers out. She takes two steps backward and glances at the nameplate beside the door.

“I’m going to assume you’re also not Jenna Cary, co-director of Veteran Outreach.” She continues.

“I’m also not her. Here, please, have a seat.” Manners that had been drilled into him kicking in. He walks around behind the desk, a much less potentially embarrassing place to be. “I’m James Barnes, Mr. Wilson had a… an unexpected event crop up and asked me to do this interview in his place.”

Ms. Bracca, Val according to the file Darlene handed him, hesitates for a few seconds before walking to the only other chair in the room. They both sit down at the same time.

“Mr. Barnes.” She says.

                                                             ---

The moment he turned around, Val knew this was not the man Netta, her assistant, had described. As soon as his face turned red, she recognized him as the man she’d taken home from Alastaar’s. Sheer force of will has kept her from blushing and leaving. Now, sitting, she realizes she’s still holding the paper.

“This is my letter of introduction,” he reaches over the desk to accept the paper. He looks curious and briefly flips it over before impossibly flushing an even brighter shade of red. Val raises an eyebrow and waits for him to speak. It quickly becomes evident he isn’t ready to start this interview, so Val begins.

“Mr… Barnes. I’m here as a representative of Sanctuary. We’ve been offered-”

“I’m sorry. Sanctuary?” he interrupts. The flush slowly draining from his face as they switch gears to business. She schools her face to hide her irritation.

“Right. You’re standing in for Mr. Wilson. Sanctuary is a non-profit organization focused on serving the housing and mental health needs of veteran and veteran adjacent individuals.” He leans forward and waits a beat before speaking.

“You help homeless people.” At her nod, he continues. “Why are you here then?”

“We recently secured a contract from the federal government to aid in the VA’s efforts in the same areas. I’m here as an introduction and to help smooth the way for cooperation between our two organizations.” He nods as he thinks that through.

“So, this is a done deal, and this interview is…”

“A formality, yes.” His shoulders visibly relax. Val smiles slightly at his obvious relief. “I assume Mr. Wilson didn’t brief you on any of this.”

“No, he did not.” The crack her little tiny smile left in her professional veneer elicits a grin of his own. “He was in a hurry, but I suspect he also didn’t tell me as revenge. Ah, Sam is my roommate,” he volunteers. She grins back.

“Revenge for what?” He turns red again and shifts uncomfortable in his seat. “You know, I think that is a topic for a different place. Uh,” he levers himself up out of the chair. Val stands as well. “You’re hired. Your people will talk to my people.” They shake hands professionally, although the grip softens slightly and lingers. He takes a quick breath before continuing. “Would you like to get lunch sometime? Well, today. I mean. Now?” Val can feel the warmth she’d been throttling back rush up to her cheeks.

“It’s still morning-”

“Breakfast then?” He gives her that same smile he’d had last night. That charming one that hits her right in the knees. “On me.”

“It’s a deal.”

                                                          ---

Darlene had, unexpectedly, recommended this diner without prompting as they had exited Sam’s office. Apparently the acoustics in the hall are perfect for eavesdropping.

“Is there… any way… I can convince you to not tell Sam about this?” he had asked the smug woman.

“Oh, honey, no chance in hell,” she had replied wickedly. “You two have a nice time.”

“I think I’m gonna pay for this,” he had said before glancing back at Val. “Shall we?”

                                                          ---

“This isn’t my area of expertise,” Val says over coffee from across the table, “but this isn’t typically how one night stands are supposed to go.” Bucky finishes chewing and swallowing a bit of toast before replying.

“Well, I don’t think fate typically makes people bump into each other again hours later.”

“Is that what this is?’ she asks. “Fate?” He shrugs.

“Maybe on my part. Plans change last minute…” a thought occurs to him and he pulls her letter of introduction out of his pocket and hands it back. “I, ah, didn’t think you’d want my note in an official file.” She grins and accepts the paper.

“That’s probably for the best. I’ll have another copy sent over.” She tucked the paper back into her jacket pocket. “You know, my assistant usually does these interviews. She’s doing the interview in Albany this morning and sent me here in her stead.”

“See. Fate.” He gestured with his last piece of toast to emphasize his point. Val shakes her head.

“Alright, I concede,” she sets her empty mug aside. She grins mischievously and leans toward him. “So, what does Fate have in store for you the rest of the morning?” Bucky stretches his arms over his head and smiles widely.

“Well, I’ve seen your place. Want to come see mine?”