#i miss him. i miss all of them. does he know i kept candy in my bag for months incase i saw him again after i had him the first time?

[epaily]

i would much prefer my brother but my normal bus driver is really, really good

[zylev-blog]

Jazz is Special Agent Fenton of the FBI. She doesn’t go by Fenton when she’s out on a case though; she uses Nightingale. She does this because it keeps her identity secret.

Jazz is investigating a series of crimes. One of the other agents goes undercover to try and set them up in a sting operation. Things go south and now Jazz is going to Gotham to view the murder scene.

When she gets there, GCPD try to stop her at the crime scene barrier. She flashes her FBI jacket and her badge and is given access. She walks over to the police commissioner, a man named Gordon. Gordon obviously doesn’t recognize her, and neither does the vigilante with him—Batman.

“This is a closed crime scene, Miss…?” Gordon asks.

“Nightingale. FBI.” She shows Gordon her badge. “You and your men can clear out. This is our jurisdiction now.”

“We haven’t gotten approval to—“ Gordon stops, but was interrupted by an officer walking over to Gordon and whispering something in his ear. “Fine.” Gordon grumbled, and started telling his men to leave.

“You too, Spooky. I don’t need a vigilante’s help.” She waves off the man without another thought, but Batman doesn’t move. Instead, he completely ignores her and starts walking towards the crime scene. “Obviously, you didn’t hear me.” Jazz scowled. “If you don’t leave, I will remove you with force, Batman.”

Batman turns to look at her. “That isn’t how things work here, Agent Nightingale.”

“It is now.” She kept her expression neutral. “Clear out, or be removed. Your choice.”

Batman tried to look intimidating. Jazz refused to bow. The two stared each other down before Batman took another step towards the crime scene. She reacted instantly. Pulling out a taser, she placed it on his back before he could even react.

He reacted quickly, and sent three batarangs at her in rapid succession. His movements were a bit slower than normal after getting tased. She dodged two of the batarangs, and opted to catch the third in her hand. She flicked it away lazily and cracked her knuckles with a small smile. “I love it when they choose force.”

Batman didn’t react to her comment. He seemed to understand he wasn’t going to be able to get around her without a major fight. He let out an annoyed grunt and grappled away.

Three days later, they meet on the roof of an abandoned building. It seems like Batman was still on the case after all. Jazz was not happy about it. She felt that he was going to ruin the entire operation. She couldn’t trust someone to have her back if they didn’t show their face. She doesn’t let the annoyance show on her face as Batman joins her at the edge of the rooftop.

“I thought I told you to stay off my case, Batman.” She said quietly.

Batman gave a quiet grunt. If she had to put it to words, it would translate to a ‘I do what I want.’

She didn’t speak to him again, but she didn’t kick him out, either. The two didn’t speak a word as they sat for two hours, inspecting the warehouse across the street. It was nearly morning by the time Batman left. She did make sure he left, too—she watched him grapple down the street and heard the roar of the Batmobile pulling away before she breathed out a sigh of relief.

Watching the building was doing nothing. She was going to have to get closer. She was going to have to go undercover herself. The thought didn’t make her any happier, even with knowing what happened to the last agent that went undercover for this operation. She also knew that to keep her tracker on her at all times, she would need to shove it inside a place that nobody would look for it. And boy was that uncomfortable.

Two days after she met Batman did she meet Brucie Wayne for the first time. By now she had been undercover with the modeling agency for a day, and it was going well so far. She was playing her part perfectly, but it could take weeks for them to trust her enough to give her information that she needed to know.

She had been hired to be arm candy for a wealthy man in Gotham. It wasn’t Brucie, though she knew he had a few models on his arms as well. She had gotten through most of the night without incident before she ran into Brucie. Quite literally. Brucie’s champagne spilled down her dress, and she gave a mock scream of outrage.

Brucie tried to clean up her dress, but she swatted his hands away and went to the bathroom to clean up. She never noticed the tracker that Bruce put on the nape of her neck. When she came back out, she noticed her date looking for her. She rejoined him and the rest of the night went smoothly.

A month into the operation and she finally was getting some results. She had been moved from building to building more than once, but she finally got breadcrumbs for what she needed to take them down. It took her another three weeks after that to gather all of the evidence she needed.

At the final takedown, she was joined by none other than Batman. She had half-expected him to show up after she noticed the tracker on her neck six hours after it was placed. She didn’t know when she had even run into the Batman at a stuffy charity gala. She had debated crushing it, but she didn’t have backup and she figured his help was better than nothing. She still didn’t trust him, though. She made sure he knew that, too.

Bringing the tracker up to her lips, she whispered, “Don’t you know it’s rude to listen in on a lady, Batman?”

Together, she and Batman took down the traffickers. They had been using models and trafficking them all over the world to be used as sex slaves. She feels a certain satisfaction while watching everyone be escorted out in cuffs.

“Nice work.” Batman says, figure tall and dark.

She hums. “Thanks.” The silence stretches on for a few minutes before she adds in, “Thanks for having my back.”

“I thought you didn’t need a vigilante’s help?” Batman teased.

She didn’t look at him, but she could hear the teasing on his voice. She smirks and crosses her arms. “I don’t. But you’re harder to get rid of than a ghost in a net.”

Batman didn’t respond back to her, and it takes her a few moments to realize what she had said. She was of course, referencing her parents ghosthunting activities. But he didn’t even know her real name, so how would he even know what he was talking about?

“When do you leave?” Batman asked.

“After everything’s wrapped up. Why, you going to miss me?” She finally turned to look at him. She wished she could run facial recognition and figure out who was under that mask. The psychologist in her wanted to know just why a man would put on a bat mask and fight crime.

“I have a case that could use your input.” Batman deflected her question.

Was that a compliment from the Batman? His way of telling her that he trusted her opinion? Or was it an olive branch?

“Mine or the FBI’s?” She already knew the answer to his question, but she wanted him to say it.

Instead, he just grunted in annoyance. She rolled her eyes and pulled a card out of the pouch that she kept her FBI id at and handed it to him. “That’s my office phone number.” She tapped the card with her finger as he held it. “If you want my personal cell, you’ve got to earn it.”

He nodded and tucked the card into his utility belt. She could see the beginnings of a smile from Batman as he disappeared into the shadows and grappled away.

Surprisingly, it only took Batman a week to call her. She had gotten settled back into her office in DC, and had mostly forgotten about the encounter. She had to report Batman’s appearance in her report, but beyond that, she didn’t have to explain that he helped her take down the ring.

She made a flight back to Gotham the next day. Batman brought her into the Batcave and told her everything she needed to know about the case. She didn’t know where the Batcave was, as Batman had blindfolded her, but she was impressed with his initiative.

“Im not wearing that.” She glared at him with all of the venom she had—which was quite a lot.

“You can’t go out in your FBI jacket.” Batman deadpanned.

“Wasn’t planning on it. Do you think I’m a rookie?” She shook her head and gestured at the costume that the vigilante had made for her. “That doesn’t give you the right to—to—ugh! Im not your Batgirl, or Batwoman, or whatever! I came out as a consult. I don’t dress up in latex, and I don’t wear costumes!”

The costume itself was gorgeous, not that she’d ever tell Batman that. It was solid black, had a red bat on the front of it, and was fully equipped with a utility belt, knife holsters, and a taser. It had a full cowl like Batmans, along with the pointy ears on top.

“I don’t see the problem.” Batman’s voice had undertones of offense in it.

“Look.” She gestured at the costume. “Im honored, truly, that you want me to watch your back. But I’m not a vigilante. Nor will I ever be!”

She had watched what vigilantism had done to Danny, Sam, Tucker, and Valerie over the years. Sure, she’d gone out with them more than once. Without a mask. But there was something more complex about the costume sitting on the table in front of her.

“You said you were going to help.” Batman’s gruff voice got closer as he took a few steps towards her.

“And I did.” She gestured to the Batcomputer. “I already gave you my opinions of the case. I dedicated a weekend of PTO time to be here. But this is as far as my help goes.”

“What about the last operation? You owe me.”

“Owe you?!” She exclaimed, thumping her finger against his chest. “I told you to get lost. You still stuck around. You could’ve cost me the operation!”

“It worked.”

She groaned in frustration. She was close enough to him now that she could smell the faint smell of Kevlar and aftershave from him. She rubbed a hand down her face as she thought over what had happened last time she was in Gotham.

“What about all your other winged vigilantes? You had uh.. Nightwing, and Robin, right?”

“It’s only Nightwing.” Batman responded. “He’s unavailable.”

“I could’ve sworn you had a Robin, too.” She looked up at him and noticed the stiffness of his body.

“Robin has moved on.” Batman replied.

Hmm. Touchy subject. She wasn’t going to push. It wasn’t any of her buisness.

“You must be really desperate if you’re trying this hard to get me to go out in that.” She smirked.

“Things could go wrong.” Batman said with a quiet sigh.

“Don’t they always?” She tilted her head.

“Not always.” Batman mimicked her actions, clearly studying her. “What will it take?”

“If I put that mask on,” She gestured to the table behind her, “You take yours off.”

“No.”

“Fine. Deals off, then.” She pulled her phone out and immediately started looking for flights back to DC.

“Why?” He questioned.

“I can’t trust someone who won’t tell me who they are.” She shrugged.

Batman let out a quiet growl. As he took his cowl off, he scowled. “You would know, wouldn’t you, Miss Fenton?”

“Holy shit.” Her eyes got wide.

Bruce Wayne was the Batman.

[takenbypeter]

Chocolate Fixes Everything

Willy Wonka x reader

Words: 1179

Sick fic for Willy Wonka, made this cause I’m sick again and I’ve become sick so often these past few months 🙃

Accepting requests for Willy only right now send me any requests plz I’m on a Wonka high rn

You couldn’t believe it. Your throat was itchy, your nose was sore. You could barely get past fifteen minutes without a horrendous cough flying out from the back of your throat. Your nose was stuffed and if it wasn’t stuffed, it was runny, which is why you kept a box of tissues close by. It wasn’t the fact you were sick that you couldnt believe, it was the fact that you were sick only a mere weeks ago and here you were, ill again. Typically this didn’t happen to you but recently it seemed like your immune system was against you, (maybe it was because of all the chocolate you had eaten recently but who knows).

While many of your friends had got the message of your sickness it seems like Willy wasn’t one of them.

“You wouldn’t believe the idea that just popped into my head!” Wonka shouted as he practically tossed your door open, your eyes shot wide as you suddenly became fully alert at the abrupt activity.

Willy on the other hand walked right past your bed which was positioned on the opposite side of the door, with his mind clearly focused on whatever his new idea was.

“Noodle and I were discussing and she had just reminded me of—“ his words were cut off and his upbeat pacing came to a halt when he finally realized you were still in bed.

His expressions seemed to relay curious, then sadness as his facial lines deepened. Without missing a beat he pulled up the wooden chair nearby. “What happened? You look horrible.”

A knowing smile tugged at your lips while you pulled your blanket further to your chin, “gee thanks, that’s just what everyone wants to hear when they’re sick.”

“You’re sick!? No that can’t be, I remember you being sick only two weeks ago.”

You nod acknowledging the fact while his face shifts into surprised? Or maybe excitement…? Stunned? It seemed like all of the above.

“Well you’re in luck,” he exclaimed scooting himself back towards the desk across the room, setting up his small briefcase factory on the table, “because I have something that’ll make you feel right as rain,” he stops tinkering with his case for a brief moment to shoot you a mischevious look, “chocolate rain.”

You rolled your eyes while he turned right around whipping a concoction together.

“Willy, I love your enthusiasm but chocolate can’t just make everything feel better.”

“Says who? Who says?”

“Medical doctors that’s who!”

“Oh doctors schmoctors,” he waves the concern off.

“Chocolate does fix everything. And this isn’t just regular old chocolate.”

Attention grabbed, you watch peculiarly as he pushes buttons and pours things in different areas of his case.

“Last time you got sick you felt awful for practically a week and a half, and I started making this since then,” his briefcase makes whirring noises as it gets to work mixing the ingredients. “Now let me ask you, what do you typically take when you have a sore throat?”

“A spoonful of honey with lemon?” You ask, unsure if that was the answer he was looking for, I mean many people do a variety of things once sick, but you took a shot in the dark anyway.

“Absolutely. But that feeling only lasts for a short time. But with this candy I designed, it lasts far, far longer.”

The machine stops and out pops a single candy, shaped simple and evenly square, as green as a lime. And with that candy in hand he returns back to you across the room.

“This is a Choc-well, because as soon as you eat it you’ll feel well,” you gave him an odd look, “the name hasn’t been hashed out yet.”

He motions for you to open your hand and he drops the small piece in your palm, to which you look at suspiciously. “It’s chocolate?”

“Yes. The outer layer is a milk chocolate, while the inside is a honey like substance from the Beezle-midge. And then inside that, is a tiniest drop of twang from a lime.”

“Beezle-midge?”

“It’s a small type of insect that usually travels in groups, except when separated and given the right incentive it secretes honey.”

You winced grossed out by the fact, “ew.”

“It’s good, trust me. Now try it.”

With one final motivating look from the boy you took the chocolate and popped it in your mouth.

“If you want it to really work suck on the chocolate, don’t chew,” he instructed just as you were about to take the first bite. But you did as told enjoying the chocolate. Little by little the chocolate layer disappeared into your mouth as the honey started to make its way to the front and Willy watched on as you ate the delicacy.

After a few moments of honey came the tiniest twang of flavor just as he said and just like that the candy was gone.

“So, how does it feel?” He asks and for a moment you’re not sure what he’s asking for.

“How does your throat feel?”

You oh-ed before closing your mouth in thought. The taste was on its way out but your throat felt much better, it no longer hurt from soreness and you didn’t feel any itchiness no or scratchiness.

“It feels…normal! Like it doesn’t even hurt. That’s amazing! How does that happen?”

“The honey from the Beezle-midge as it’s going down puts a small coat along your throat which lasts practically a whole day.”

“That’s splendid Willy, truly astounding!” You praise sitting up in bed. True you still had your other symptoms but at least you didn’t have to worry about your throat or coughing for now. Willy displayed a bashful smile at the compliments that he took to heart.

“Why didn’t you give this to me last time?” You asked curious as to why he just let you suffer, surely it couldn’t be just cause he forgot.

“Well actually…” he tilts his head back and forth before continuing, “you being sick last time is kind of the inspiration for it.”

This was not a new thing, Willy used many different people and experiences as inspiration, but he suddenly felt so shyly in telling you about yourself being his inspiration. Why? Was it because he didn’t know how you were going to react? He knew you would react well of course, you always did when it came to his creations.

“You made this…” you pointed to air essentially now that the chocolate was gone, “because of me?”

He nodded modestly, “last time you got sick, you missed out on a lot, and we missed you a lot in the factory.”

You grinned a toothy grin, “aww that’s sweet, and this chocolate is so cool!”

At your exclaim he felt relief, “good, I’m glad it’s working.”

That made you pause, “glad it’s working? What does that mean? You haven’t tested it before?” You asked worried.

“That’s not what I meant, geez. You do that one time,” he mumbled as he went back to his small briefcase factory.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Seongji Yuk x Reader: Treats

G/N. Meeting Seongji for the first time.

"Your teeth are gonna fall out."

The monster of the mountain looks at you, face blank though eyes amused, tanghulu hanging from his mouth.

You've seen him enough times to know there's not much monstrous about him, apart from his overwhelming sweet tooth.

Rumours of this monster were grossly exaggerated.

Maybe you should have had more self preservation than to wander the mountainside when such tales persist. Yet when you found out the monster was a mere man, a mere boy close to your age, who seemed to have a penchant for sugary, syrup covered fruit-

You realised the only thing to fear was cavities and tooth decay.

Still. It helps to have someone with such a reputation on your side, you decide, as you toss over a pack of fruit gummies.

A hand shoots out and swiftly catches it.

(Six. You swore you saw six fingers on that hand.)

"Thought you might like these," you shrug as he gives you an odd look, "See ya!"

.

.

After the fifth pack of candies you threw at him, the guilt sets in.

You make your way through now familiar half hidden paths, searching for the monster.

He's there. Sitting in front of his giant wok, surrounded by freshly made tanghulu. Scents of sugar and caramel fill the air.

"You're here again," The words are spoken so quietly you almost missed them. His voice is softer than you expected.

"I bought you more things," you hold out a small plastic bag. He gives you the same look each time. 

"Open it," you encourage, shoving it more forcefully in his direction.

With little trust - which is somewhat unfair, you think, considering all the treats he has received from you - he takes the bag.

(Six. You know you saw six fingers on that hand.)

He opens it, peers in, face clouded with caution. Then-

Eyebrows shooting into his hairline, eyes widening almost comically, mouth forming an 'o'-

The tension breaks and he chuckles.

"It's one thing if all the tanghulu you eat rots your teeth, that's your own fault," You rub the back of your head self-consciously as he pulls out more fruit candies, as well as a new toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, mouthwash one after the other. "But if it's because of me then..."

"You're strange," he says, staring at you like you're a puzzle he can't quite figure out.

His words have no bite.

.

.

"Seongji Yuk," he eventually provides his name with reluctance. In exchange, you provide the rest of the banchan and rice to accompany his homemade kimchi.

(Your single braincell stopped functioning the first time you realised he does in fact eat something besides sugar.

It's endearing, this supposed 'monster' making his own tanghulu, making his own kimchi.

You kept comparing his recipe with your own before eventually he asked you to leave out of exasperation.)

"Well Seongji, your kimchi needs more saeujeot," It's not bad, it's just missing something.

"You don't have to eat it," he grumbles, swallowing down an extra big mouthful.

.

.

"So..."  You stall, elongating the word, letting it drift into the night. You don't really know Seongji well, hell you don't know him at all. Maybe it would be intrusive to ask.

You hear a rustling beside you. "So what?"

"So… you live on this mountain?"

"I do."

"Huh." You gaze out at the stars. It's a pretty peaceful existence, or it would be if not for Cheonliang. "On your own?"

"Yes."

"Do you ever get lonely?"

A beat. Then - "No."

Oh.

You turn to him and see his face blank but eyes amused. Messy hair and high cheekbones highlighted by the fire.

"Well I can visit you if I get lonely then."

There's a huff of laughter. Seongji knows he can't stop you anyway. He turns back toward the vast inky sky. Takes in the scattered stars. Feels the heat from the flames, a heat that settles into his cheeks.

A smile dances on his lips when he tells you "Okay."

[glokyo]

18+. (slight smut.. don’t be scared.)

Whenever you got around Suguru, its like you can’t contain your femininity. Whiny, pouting, acting all pathetic, being a crybaby. It’s nothing Suguru doesn’t love because he knows, at the end of the day, he’s the only thing that can contain his wife.

You don’t even have to use that pretty head of yours whenever he’s around, let the man handle it as he does best. And he does, every-single-time.

Suguru took on a modeling career a year back and has been doing great ever since. The money that comes with it—was beautiful— and the pictures? If you could keep every picture of him in a box and lock it away, you would.

Recently, a new model has emerged. People call her Angel face. Her features were model worthy, beautiful cheekbones, tan skin, freckles, and long.. long dark shiny hair. She was perfect. You’d hate to admit it but you couldn’t help getting jealous seeing her around your man. Call it bitchy or bitter but she has nothing on you apart from being eye-candy.

He was out all day, working with that girl. You being on your phone, eating and cleaning.. just simply out of boredom. The moment Suguru entered those doors, all hell broke loose.

“It’s not true, baby. I can assure you I wouldn’t do a thing like that.” He reassured you, his voice deep and smooth. He held you by your waist, pressing feather light kisses along your neck. He wouldn’t doubt your love for a second.

The news filled with gossips that Geto and another famous model, Anaine, were both dating. Looking at the pictures, it would’ve probably be seen that way since Geto took his ring off for those pictures.. obviously deeply regretted.

But you and him both knew it wasn’t true. He was married to you; his highschool sweetheart. These stupid rumors kept circulating and it was surely because Anaine was fueling them. Basking in the attention at Getos expense.

You threw a fit, which is an understatement. Your pretty head not being used for anything but asking and complaining that you so much as overreacted; thinking Geto took his ring off purposefully just to get attention… perhaps, for another woman.

Geto sighed, leaning down to press his forehead against yours, your arms wrapped around your chest, trying so desperately to make that innocent face intimidating. “You know I don’t want anyone but you, my love. You’re all I need. There’s nothing or nobody that can compare nor replace you. No-body.” He emphasizes on his last word with a tiny bite to your neck, sliding his lips up to your ear, flattening his tongue against your lobe, tongue piercing sliding against the skin, making you huff. His hands slide down your body, your waist, and to your ass, gripping firmly.

“Should I remind you how.. fuckin.. perfect y’re?… Fuck y’right here… treat you s’ sweet and fuck you s’ good?…” He mumbles against your ear, lazily grinding against your front. You mumble nothings, already out your whiny little head. You drop your hands to his biceps, fluttering your eyes shut. “Look at me.” Suguru demands, voice quiet yet so deep. You bid, not missing a beat. Beading those big doe eyes, batting those long pretty lashes.

“It’s you I live for. Say the word… you deserve whatever your palms touch.”

note: first blog🫣 so nervyyyyyyy. hope this reaches the right audience, if it does, boost for more if you like it🩷🩷🩷✨😛

[megamindsecretlair]

Foolish

*Heed warnings*

Pairing: Jatemme Manning x Bratty!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. PWP, Filth, cursing, PIV, size kink, mentions of violence, gun use, drug use, brat reader. Reader does get turned on by violence, if this disturbs you click away. All consensual. Established relationship. Heavy use of n-word.

Summary: You are tired of being Jatemme's arm candy. Forever guarded and without 100% of his attention. As the race for Alderman heats up, you're at a fundraising event when you grow bored and decide to test Jatemme's devotion.

Word Count: 3,494k

A/N: I was a little unhinged writing this, so it was written in a bit of a daze. Please let me know what ya'll think about this one. I can't find the ask where people expressed interest so don't be mad at me if I didn't tag you! I'm sorry! I'm also not married to the moodboard, so it might change. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blowmymbackout @browngirldominion @sageispunk @harmshake @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @blackerthings

You were bored. Just because you told your man to leave you alone, didn’t mean you actually wanted him to do it. Why couldn’t niggas ever listen? What’s so hard to understand? “Leave you alone” obviously meant to give you attention?

You were at a fancy event for Jatemme’s brother, Jamal, who was running for Alderman. Snooze fest. Jatemme promised that you weren’t going to be here long. That you’d only have to sit like a doll for an hour tops, before he took you shopping and out to eat.

One hour turned to three and you were still sitting at Jamal’s table, surrounded by Jatemme’s crew while Jamal and Jatemme did business. You scanned the room for your man but didn’t find him. 

You did see Jamal who was hard to miss. He was the type to walk into the room like he owned it and as if everyone owed him money for it. Jatemme was quieter, but deadlier. He instantly drew you in with his sleepy eyes, soft umber skin, and intense presence. His darkness called to something within you and never let go. 

The relationship wasn’t without its up and downs. You liked to keep him on his toes. Get him to have a little fun. He always followed in Jamal’s shadow when it was Jatemme that did most of the work. Most of the planning. Most of the ideas. 

You sighed, loudly once more, and turned briefly to your table to sip your nasty ass champagne. Fucking politicians. Pretending like they weren’t all into something dirty, getting over on the little guy. Namely Black folk. 

Jatemme’s crew gave you funny looks. They knew better than to touch you or stare too hard. But you often caught them looking at your body and your too short dresses. They also hated your attitude. Jatemme made you swear to stop messing with them. It was hard to find good help when you were constantly flirting with them and he was constantly killing them over it.

Maybe that was Jatemme’s problem. Now that Jamal was running for Alderman, there was a public scrutiny on the family business. Jatemme doesn’t have free rein to do as he pleased now. Go wherever he wanted. Do whatever he wanted. 

You sighed once more and checked your phone. You texted your best friends in your group chat, that you were bored and in desperate need of fun.  Misty immediately texted you back and told you to meet them at a club not too far from there. That was exactly what you needed. 

You looked over at the crew of four burly men and stood up. One of the them, Martin, stood up as well prepared to follow you. “No need, Marty, I’m just going to the little girl’s room,” you said and smiled sweetly. 

Martin gave you a blank stare. He adjusted the suit jacket over his thick arms and put his hands in his pockets. “You know the rules,” he said. 

You kept your sweet smile, knowing that your lips were glossed just so to catch the light overhead. That your champagne colored dress hugged your figure just right. The night was young and you were wasting it by being arm candy. 

“You gonna follow me into the bathroom and hold my purse too? I don’t think Jay would like that,” you sang. 

Martin looked towards the other men who looked everywhere but at him. They did not want that particular smoke. Decisions, decisions. Martin cleared his throat. “Come right back,” he said. 

You smiled. “Of course. You all act like I’m not an angel,” you said. The men wisely didn’t comment. You turned and sashayed out of the room, already done with the entire night. You didn’t see your man and you didn’t care at the moment. 

You waited until you left the hotel ballroom before pulling out your phone. You ordered an Uber on your way out to the front. People from the reception had spilled out into the hallway, discussing things that they didn’t want others overhearing, even by accident. 

You passed by stick figure women in dark red, blue, or black dresses, pointy shoes, and stiff upper lips. You passed by men in their penguin suits, pretending to give a shit. The total wealth combined in the room could help everyone in the Ward but they held onto it like gremlins. 

It made you sick.

You went outside, shivering slightly from the bite of cold. When your Uber arrived, you didn’t even look back towards the hotel. It was almost criminal how easy it was to slip your chains. Further proof that this shit was getting stale and you might be headed towards another break from Jatemme. Let him sit and stew over what he would miss before he came crawling back with gifts, kisses, and that big dick of his. 

You grinned as you texted Misty that you were on your way. She texted back with plenty of emojis, some of them skulls, because she already knew that Jatemme was going to blow his lid. Let him.

It didn’t take long to reach the rougher areas of Chicago. Almost literally down the street from the glitterati, the houses weren’t as nice. The grass not so green. Fences and bars on the windows. Corner boys selling dope in baggy jeans and oversized T-shirts. 

The club was set back from the street to allow for a little more parking. You got out and Misty met you outside. She hugged you with many squeals and jumping up and down. “Slipped the doom patrol?” She asked. 

Misty was gorgeous, with deep, dark skin and microbraids twisted into two buns atop her head. She was a thick, curvy girl who was always quick with a laugh. She immediately ushered you inside. You turned off your phone. Make Jay sweat a little bit. 

You spent the entire night dancing with your girls and getting drunk on your favorite drink. All of the songs were hitting, back to back. A mix of 2000s and 2010s music. The good shit that demanded you dance right this instant. 

Plenty of dusty ass niggas tried to pull you into a dance and you pushed them all away. It cost to put hands on you. It cost to be in your presence. Ain’t nobody getting shit for free. 

By the time the club called for last drinks, you were tapped out. You were not wearing the proper shoes for dancing in the club. You were shocked that you lasted as long as you did. And yeah, you missed your man. You were a little drink, a lot horny, and you just wanted to be fucked at this point and put to sleep. 

You walked out, hanging onto your friends. One of them, Kiki, was the lightweight. She was dragged between two friends while she muttered something. You giggled and walked with them to their car. 

Rounding the corner, there were a group of guys passing a joint between them. They wolf-whistled as you passed by. One of them sure was fine. Tall, bald, with a thick luscious beard that covered the lower half of his face. You wondered what he’d look like with your juices dripping from it. 

You didn’t condone cheating. But if you were on a break…

You smiled at him as you passed, tossing your hair over your shoulders. “Gahh damn, lil mama, where you headed?” He asked.

You giggled and kept walking with your girls. It was nice to be wanted. You turned your phone on while your friends tried to get Kiki into the car and not entertaining the men by the building. 

As it turned on, messages flew in with loud dings and flashes across your screen. You had…quite a lot of missed calls from Jatemme. Angry texts too. You appreciated that he never called you out of your name when he was angry, but he had plenty of other colorful ways to show his displeasure. Like calling you by your real name. Ew. 

He was good and pissed that you left. That your phone was off. He promised hell, fire, and damnation when he finally caught up to you. You pictured him driving around fuming. His sleepy eyes narrowed even further. The cute way his nostrils would flare and the vein that pulsed in his neck. 

You were getting wet just thinking about it. The sex would be immaculate tonight. You sighed dreamily as you went through his unhinged text messages. 

“Bitch! Help? Hello?” Misty called out. You giggled and moved towards the car, pushing at Kiki’s big ass head to get into the car. Misty slammed the door in her face and sighed as if she’d been wrestling a bear. 

She faced you with a small grin before her eyes darted behind you. The sexy bald headed man approached you, licking his lips and looking you up and down. He held out his hand when he was near enough. 

“I had to come introduce myself,” he said.

“I appreciate that. But I’m too high-maintenance for you, boo,” you said. You flirted with the idea of being responsible for another man’s death, but he was too cute to sacrifice for your own dastardly enjoyment. There were so few, gorgeous Black men these days. The 90s had all the fine men. They were long gone now. God just wasn’t building them like that no more. 

“I like a little high-maintenance,” he said. 

You laughed. Said no man ever. “I’m the type to empty accounts,” you said and smiled. 

“I got several. Pick one,” he said. He looked you in the eye as he said it and made you reevaluate him as a whole. He was dressed nice in dark plaid slacks, black polo, with a big watch on his wrist. Nothing too flashy, but enough that it convinced you he wasn’t another broke nigga. 

You were considering his offer, wondering how you could prove that he was for real and not just trying to get into your panties. Squealing tires tore your gaze away from the man as you saw Jatemme’s truck flip a bitch into oncoming traffic and speed into the parking lot. 

“Shit. You better run before my man catch you talking to me,” you said, though he probably already saw you. 

“I ain’t scared,” the man said. Bless his little heart. 

“Nigga, I’m trynna protect you. Leave, now,” you said, shooing him away from you and your girls. Maybe you could convince Jatemme that the man was trying to flirt with Misty. You turned behind you, but Misty held her hands up.

“I ain’t trynna die for your Black ass,” she said. 

“Bitch!” You screamed, but you couldn’t stay serious for long. You grinned and shook your head. Before the truck had a chance to come to a full stop, Jatemme and crew hopped out, grabbing guns from their waistbands. 

“They got guns!” Someone called out. The parking lot emptied with a speed only achieved in the hood. Too many people who knew the consequences of a stray bullet and weren’t trying to lose their lives over it. Some brave souls remained, peeking behind cars and around the building into the additional parking in the alleyway.

You couldn’t help it. Your thighs tingled. Your heart skipped a beat seeing Jatemme climb out of the driver’s seat with that slow, menacing gait of his. His eyes were glued on you as he walked towards you.

The cutie remained, like he would really stand in front of a bullet for you. You couldn’t give him any more warnings. You couldn’t save him from his own stupidity. Jatemme stopped a few feet in front of you.

His face was deceptively calm. He crossed his arms in front of him, Glock on display. His crew formed a formidable wall behind him. Martin sported a darkening bruise on his cheek and you only felt slightly bad for getting him into trouble. At least he was still alive. That was something. 

You bit your lip and giggled nervously. “Hi, baby,” you said. 

“Did he touch you?” Jatemme asked. His voice. God, you could listen to that voice recite the dictionary and you’d listen to every word. 

You shifted your footing. “Nope. Never seen this man before,” you said.

“Aye, if you’re in trouble…” The man said. Martin, being the closest, lifted his gun into the man’s face. The gun was pressed to his temple and the man audibly gulped. 

“Did he touch you?” Jatemme asked once more.

You looked him in the eye. “No.” 

“Get the fuck out of here,” Jatemme said to the man. The man looked at you, but you knew better than to acknowledge his presence. You heard his friends calling for him, telling him not to be a hero, not to lose his life over some bitch. 

The man backed away, keeping his eye on Martin and the shiny gun in his face. Jatemme jerked his head and you sighed, following behind him. If he was going to take you away, he was beyond angry. Maybe you actually worried him this time. That wasn’t your intention. You wanted to scare him a little, not worry him. 

You waved goodbye to your friends. They shot you alarmed glances, but you told them that Jatemme never raised a hand to you. Never. He liked getting his revenge in other ways.

He opened the door for you and you climbed into the front seat. He got into the driver’s seat, peeling away from the club so fast, he probably sprayed everyone with rocks and gravel. He didn’t speak. He drove through the quiet streets, heading back towards the hotel you escaped from.

“Baby–”

Jatemme held up a hand like he didn’t want to hear it. You bit your lip. You really stepped in it now. Was it bad that you were turned on? Punishment shouldn’t be this exciting and yet, your mind raced through what he had planned. How he was going to show that he cared for you. 

He pulled to the front of the hotel and tossed the valet his keys. The gun was tucked away into his jeans. Fancy events didn’t mean he had to be the one who dressed up. He did have a clean, sky blue shirt buttoned to the very top. He opened the door and let you out. 

He didn’t speak while he pushed you inside, the event well and truly over by now. He didn’t speak as you rode the elevator in crushing silence and velvet flooring muffling your heels. He didn’t speak as he got out onto the twelfth floor, leading you to a suite you didn’t know he got for the night. 

Once inside, you gasped. There was a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket. Low lighting made the room glow like looking through a piece of glass at twilight. “You did all this for me?” You asked.

“If you would have behaved yourself,” he said.

The suite was big enough to have a full living room with couches and armchairs, shiny mahogany coffee table, and a wide screen TV. Behind a set of double doors, there was a bed already turned down, waiting for you to climb in. 

You pouted. Your man was so sweet sometimes, it made your heart ache. He didn’t always show this softer side. The side that liked snuggling up to trashy movies late at night, snacking in bed, and enjoying each other’s company. 

“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” He asked. His voice was barely above a whisper. Enough to get his point across. You truly had worried him. 

You turned to him with an apology on your lips but he was already invading your space. He grabbed your face and pulled you into a rough kiss, slanting his lips across yours as if he meant to stake a claim. Prove a point. You belonged to him. There was no way of getting out of it. No way of running. 

You gripped onto him tightly. “I hate when you worry me like that,” he said. 

“You promised,” you whined. 

His lips returned to kissing you, looking for the zipper on your side to unzip you from the dress. When he couldn’t find it, he began to rip it with his bare hands. “Hey!”

“I’ll buy you more,” he said. His lips returned to kissing you. More like possessing you. He kissed you like he wanted to meld your bodies together to keep you by his side. This was what you needed. What you had been craving all night. 

Your bra and panties went next, baring you completely to him. He wasn’t in it to admire your body right now though. You knew him. He had been worrying about you all night and needed to see you. Feel you. Make sure that you really were in front of him and not a figment of his imagination. 

He turned you around and slapped your ass. You screamed out, jumping away from the sharp sting. He pushed you towards the deep gray couch and bent you over the back of it. It dug into your tummy but you were too turned on to notice the pain. 

He unzipped his zipper and freed himself with a low groan, spreading your ass cheeks and rubbing his dick through your wet folds. Your hands feebly gripped onto the couch cushings, fingers digging into the linen. 

Once his tip was good and wet, he stuffed you and you cried out from the burn of his girthy dick pushing into you. Your eyes crossed. He felt too good to contain to a single moan. You yelled out without abandon, not caring who heard you. If the neighbors complained, Jatemme would handle that too. 

His strokes were bruising, punishing, near cruel as he slammed into you over and over. “You and this fucking attitude gon’ kill me,” he groaned. His fingers grabbed hold of your hips and slammed you back onto his dick. Like his strokes weren’t enough. Like you weren’t moving fast enough for him.

“Oh baby, oh fuck–I’m sorry!” You cried out.

“No, you not,” he said. No, you were not. You’d do everything all over again if he meant that his attention was back on you. That his hands were back on you. That his dick was inside you, spearing you, driving you to new pleasures each and every time. 

Your feet were scrambling for purchase. He didn’t care. He fucked you like you were no more than a toy to stick his dick in. One hand reached behind you to push against his chest. His shirt slipped between you so he lifted it and brought his flesh flush with yours. Then, he grabbed your outstretched hand and pulled it behind you, resting on your back while he used the new position as a new anchor. His strokes grew deeper, more desperate. 

“I catch you talking to another nigga and I’ma kill him,” Jatemme whispered harshly.

“Yes, baby,” you moaned. You’d seen him kill niggas for far less. For daring to turn their neck in your direction. He once told you that if he could blind the male population of Chicago, he would. 

“Oh fuck!” You screamed out, crying through your punishing orgasm. 

Jatemme grunted in satisfaction. “That’s your first one for the night. I hope you’re keeping count,” he said. 

“Baby, wait…” You grunted between his deep thrusts. 

“Like you made me wait tonight?” He asked. He yanked on your hair, forcing you to look back at him. You stared into his eyes while he filled you up with his cum. He came with a low, grumbling moan that shook your inner walls. 

Your mouth dropped open as his dick pulsed and twitched. Your legs were jelly, kept standing by pure force by him. His will to keep you spread open for him ensured that you were a vessel for his dick. His own personal fucktoy. 

He made you cum two more times while your neck was craned, looking back into his soulful eyes. You ran out of curse words to shout to the heavens. Your eyes ached from the way they rolled. Your essence mixed with his spend dripped down your legs in a slow river that tickled your legs.  

He finally slipped out, giving you a bit of a break. You huffed, legs shaking, arms weak. He picked you up and carried you to the bed, spreading your legs open once more. He fisted his dick, jerking the length of it while he looked at your destroyed pussy leaking with his cum.

“Hope you didn’t plan on sleeping tonight,” he said with a small grin. 

You panted with a nervous giggle. He proved throughout the rest of the night just how much he missed you and made you promise not to do it again. Well, at least not anytime soon.

The end.

There will be more! The Secret Jatemme Files

[xomakara]

Inked By You

SUMMARY |  You're best friends with Johnny and have had feelings for him for awhile. You think he's only attracted to you because of your tattoos but it's so much more. PAIRINGS | Johnny/Fem!Reader GENRE |  non-idol au, college au, friends to lovers, smut, unprotected sex, oral sex, dirty talk, fluff towards the end RATING |  Mature LENGTH |  10,114 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | This turned out longer than I expected LOL. So in this one, all the members I mentioned are the same age lolol. I hope it makes sense. Does it make sense?? I feel like my writing style has been wonky lately.

“Those are real, aren’t they?” Johnny asked you as he leaned against your bedroom wall. Taeyong and Yuta were lounging on your bed before joining the party that was going on in your living room. Johnny was looking at the various tattoos that were on your left arm.

You and Johnny have been best friends since your freshman year of college. Although you both have very different personalities and interests, there was one thing that kept you close together: partying. It's your last year of college and despite all the stress from studying and taking exams, you still got together every now and again to do what you all did best.

Drink, dance, and make memories.

Johnny is wearing a silk button-down shirt and black slacks. And then there was you in a tight mini skirt and a one-shouldered top that accentuated your figure and showed off your tattoo sleeve.

You looked good.

Even though it wasn’t what most people would consider a typical Friday night out, you, Johnny and other mutual friends seemed happy enough as you stood in front of the mirror checking out each other.

That was until you caught Johnny staring at your body with an expression that suggested he wanted more than just a quick look. The silence between you both grew awkward and uncomfortable until you finally broke it by saying, “What? Are my tits distracting you or something?”

He snapped out of his trance with a surprised look on his face, causing you to smile. He quickly apologized for staring, but said that he was genuinely interested in your ink. You nodded in response, knowing exactly what he meant by that. There was no denying the amount of attention you always got when wearing a low-cut top or a revealing dress. Your tattoo sleeve was another story though. People either loved them or hated them.

Despite the interest from many men, you never really considered getting any more tattoos after you finished your sleeves because, frankly, your current ones turned heads even if you wore a burlap sack. It wasn't uncommon for you to get double takes from people you knew as well as complete strangers when walking around town. On top of that, you didn't want to mess up the awesome artwork that had already been drawn onto your skin. Your current sleeves represented some of your favorite memories, which you didn't ever want to lose. So while others spent thousands of dollars on inked bodies, you got yourself beautiful pieces of art that couldn't be taken away.

Still, you couldn't help but notice how excited Johnny appeared whenever he saw you in your sexy outfits. As far as you could tell, he never missed an opportunity to stare at your tattoos, or check you out whenever you walked by him. Sometimes you would catch him ogling you in such a way that you felt like he wanted to rip off your clothes right there in public. Of course, there was no way he'd actually do anything like that. He wasn't that kind of guy.

Besides, you knew for a fact that he had a girlfriend who also attended the same college as you. They had been dating for about a few months, so she was obviously important to him. Still, whenever he caught you wearing something tight or sexy, he couldn't help but show off those sinful eyes of his.

With everyone gathered in yours and Ten's living room, you tried to ignore the eye candy standing across from you as you and your friends continued to talk about meaningless things, like where you should go for dinner later tonight. You weren't even sure why you brought it up. Maybe you were bored, maybe you were drunk, or maybe you just needed something to keep your mind occupied. But whatever the reason, somehow the conversation ended up on the topic of sexual partners. When it comes to sexual encounters, your friends tend to live by the motto: if you haven't had sex with anyone, then you're not having fun.

You hadn't given much thought to that phrase until Jaehyun wiggled his eyebrows at you. "We all know that Y/N has fun doesn't she?"

You rolled your eyes, a smirk on your lips. "I've been told I have a knack for keeping people entertained."

"She can entertain me anytime!" Ten shouted. "Have you seen her ass in that red dress she wears?"

You couldn't help but laugh. That comment got everybody else laughing too.

"Anyways," You muttered before clearing your throat and turning towards Taeyong, "How many women have you slept with?"

Taeyong glanced over at Yuta and grinned, "Four, but it's probably more. Do you need me to give you a count?"

Ten let out a small laugh before replying, "Four isn't bad. Don't think I'll ever get that high, although the number would probably increase if Yuta would stop trying to fuck everything that moves. Especially anything that moves."

You burst out laughing, followed by Yuta who laughed even harder. Eventually Ten joined in, as did Jaehyun, and everyone else that was listening.

“But back to the question at hand,” Taeyong spoke up once he was able to calm down. He looked over at you, “how many men have you slept with?”

Johnny grabbed a bottle of beer from the kitchen counter and took a swig of it. He looked at you curiously.

"Well...if we include Jaehyun, Doyoung, Mark, Hendery and Renjun..." You counted, the men you called out looking at you for a brief moment before going back to whatever they were doing. "Five. But hey, who's counting? Sex is sex."

That answer seemed to satisfy Johnny, although he continued to watch you carefully. You noticed that he was taking an interest in your tattoos again. You shrugged it off as you and your friends continued talking, however your heart began to beat faster when you realized that he was no longer looking at your tattoos. His eyes were locked on yours.

"Hey guys,” Jungwoo called out to the rest of your group, waving a hand in front of their faces. “Who wants to get more beer and food with me?"

Thank you Jungwoo, for your timely interruption. You weren't sure how long you could last with Johnny staring at you. In fact, your knees started to feel a little weak when he cleared his throat to gain your attention. It was almost like he was daring you to say something. Something inappropriate, to be exact. But you had to be strong. After all, he was with his girlfriend.

"Uh, yeah," You replied, forcing a smile onto your face. “Let's go get some food and drinks."

You turned around, ready to follow Jungwoo into the kitchen. You paused for a second to take one last look at Johnny, and saw him watching you intently. You smiled sheepishly before stepping inside the kitchen to join your friends.

You turned around to see Johnny coming towards you. He didn't speak for a minute, so you waited patiently. "So, have you had fun yet?"

Your brows furrowed. You expected him to ask you if you were enjoying yourself. Instead he was asking you a completely different question. You wondered what this was all about, so you replied, "Of course I'm having fun! Why wouldn't I be?"

Before he could respond, Xiaojun called out. "Yo, Johnny! Jieun is here."

Fuck. Johnny's girlfriend.

You sighed inwardly as you watched him walk away with Xiaojun to greet her. If only he wasn't dating someone you actually knew. Then maybe he'd pay you the proper amount of attention. 

Oh well. No use thinking about it. 

You shook your head and focused on your friends. You hadn't seen them in awhile, so you welcomed the chance to hang out with them again. Plus, the alcohol helped to loosen your tongue, which allowed you to ask some of the questions you had been wondering about for quite some time.

"So, guys," you said, pouring some vodka into a glass. "Is it true that Renjun hooked up with someone last week?"

Renjun choked on his beer. You covered your mouth to hide your laughter. Kun let out a loud groan. Haechan let out a loud chuckle. Even Taeyong chuckled quietly.

You couldn't believe that they were being so open with you. It was like you were part of the group, and you liked it. You weren't sure if they realized that, but you were grateful nonetheless.

As soon as you saw Renjun regaining his composure, you spoke up again. "So, how many girls have you banged so far?"

Mark snorted. "Including you? Like eight or nine."

Kun guffawed. "More like twenty."

A shocked expression formed on your face. It was funny to hear their numbers compared to yours, but even funnier was hearing their reactions. Their reactions made you realize just how ridiculous their answers were. For example, Kun's claim that he had fucked more than twenty women in his lifetime was preposterous. However, you didn't dare bring it up.

Renjun shrugged. "I dunno. A lot."

Mark nodded. "At least ten."

Jungwoo scoffed. "No fucking way. Five tops."

"Bet none of those girls were as good as Y/N." Jaehyun reminded them, giving you a look. You rolled your eyes as he continued to talk. "And to everyone at this party that had sex with her, admit that she was good."

"I admit, I'm a good fuck." You shrugged, a small smirk on your lips. You nudged Jaehyun's shoulder. "Now shut up."

You all stared at each other for a minute before bursting out laughing. The alcohol was definitely starting to hit you hard, making you forget all about Johnny and his girlfriend. All that mattered was that you were surrounded by friends, having a good time, and drinking.

It wasn't long before Ten, Mark, Kun, Haechan, Taeyong and you were sitting on the floor, passing around beers and shots as you waited for Jungwoo and Yuta to return with the food. And even though you were tipsy, you managed to hold your liquor fairly well. Until you drank the tequila shot you took right before going to get more drinks.

“So, Y/N.” Haechan drawled out, looking at you intently. You glanced at the tequila in your hands, your vision getting hazy. How much have you actually drunk so far?

“What?” you asked, shrugging. “What are you talking about?”

Haechan frowned. "You okay? You look wasted."

"Yeah, you look wasted Y/N." Taeyong said, as he put his drink down.

Your vision was getting worse. You felt dizzy. Your body was hot, then cold, then hot again. Fuck, you were going to pass out if you kept this up. You reached for the bottle of water next to you, holding it tightly against your chest. You closed your eyes for a second, concentrating on slowing your breathing. You managed to slow it down a bit, but you still felt lightheaded. Before you knew it, your vision blurred again. When you opened your eyes, you found everyone staring at you. Except for Taeyong. He was standing in front of you, looking very concerned.

"Taeyong." You whispered, unable to form any words. He held out his arms, inviting you to step into them.

"Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed." He said gently.

"Y/N." Johnny stepped forward, his face showing concern. His girlfriend laid a hand on his arm, suggesting that he stay put. "Are you okay?"

You nodded and stumbled, reaching for the couch, only to find it further away than you remembered. Without thinking, you leaned against Haechan instead. As you dozed off, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer.

"Johnny, what's wrong?" The pretty girl next to him muttered. "Is everything alright?"

Johnny watched from the corner of his eyes as his friends helped Y/N up from her drunken stupor. Was she okay? "It's nothing, Jieun."

"I hope she's alright." Jieun muttered, arms still clinging to him. "She seems so drunk."

"Don't worry about her, babe." Johnny assured her. "Just relax and enjoy yourself."

"Why are you always protecting her?" Jieun released a soft sigh.

"Because she's special to me." Johnny answered simply. 

He gave her a small smile before turning his attention back to his friends. He really missed the opportunity to spend time with his friends and Y/N.

He sighed. Of course he missed her. Even though he hadn't been able to spend much time with her lately, whenever they were together, they always had fun. She was kind and caring. Whenever they hung out, he felt a sense of comfort wash over him. It wasn't until tonight that he realized how lucky he was to have her in his life.

In the beginning, it was all easy. They met at a party thrown by their classmates. Since Johnny had recently moved to Seoul, most of his friends struggled to communicate with him. So when his friend Jaehyun told him about the event being held by another foreign exchange student, he figured that it would be a good chance to meet new people. Little did he know that meeting Y/N would change his life forever.

They hit it off instantly, flirting shamelessly. They had no problem joking around and teasing each other. At first, it had been innocent, simple conversations, whether it was about the weather or their favorite movies. They stayed as friends since Y/N was currently in a relationship, but every once in a while, they still got together to hang out. On those occasions, they spent their time watching movies, going to karaoke bars, eating out, and shopping. They had mutual friends who always seemed to drag them along to the hottest clubs and parties.

Those times together were always memorable. He remembered the time when he helped Ten and Y/N find an apartment together since they were going to be roommates. There were nights where Y/N had gotten sick from drinking too much, falling asleep on Johnny's chest. Or times when he found himself helplessly straddling Y/N as they snuck into his apartment. He never questioned the level of their intimacy; after all, Y/N was a beautiful, smart, and sweet girl. In return, Johnny was respectful of her relationships with other men.

But the thought of Y/N with anyone else made him physically ill.

For several months, things continued this way. Eventually, they both became more serious with their respective partners. When that happened, they had trouble finding time to see each other. The good news was that they'd grown closer, becoming each other's best friends. During those moments when they saw each other, they'd always make sure to give the other person plenty of affection. It was obvious that neither one of them wanted to lose their friendship. Still, it was difficult not to get hurt every now and again.

Johnny would often ask himself why he didn't act sooner.

What stopped him from telling Y/N how he truly felt? He knew that he was attracted to her, especially after seeing how they interacted together. She made him laugh, genuinely enjoying his humor. It was impossible not to notice how sexy she looked when she was laughing at his jokes. Plus, she smelled amazing. When he breathed in her scent, it reminded him of chocolate. Or strawberry ice cream. Something sweet and fruity that melted his heart every time he inhaled it. But still, he kept his feelings bottled up inside.

Today was no exception.

Seeing Y/N dress in that mini skirt and that top that accentuated her figure, he had to try hard to stop himself from kissing her senseless. Heck, he knew she had tattoos but at the time, there were only a few. Now she had a whole sleeve of them. All over her left arm. Most of them seemed quite intricate and detailed, depicting nature scenes, symbols, even people. She had an incredible eye for detail and, based on her art, Johnny guessed that she had a lot of patience. It was one of the many reasons why he loved hanging out with her. They could talk for hours, even if they had absolutely nothing in common. There was always an instant connection between them, almost as if they were two halves of a whole.

Johnny glanced over at Jieun, his current girlfriend.

No.

Just the girl that he’s currently just sleeping with.

Jieun was pretty, don't get him wrong. She had short hair and bright brown eyes, delicate features and a slender frame. But when compared to Y/N, she didn't stand a chance. Compared to her, Y/N seemed like a goddess. Y/N was tall, slender, toned in all the right places. She was tan, and had long, black hair that she often ran her fingers through. Not only did she possess all of the qualities that Johnny desired, but she also had a personality that stole his heart. For years, he had been silently pining for her. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't deny the fact that she was perfect for him.

But no matter how much he liked Jieun, he could never forget Y/N. The truth was that Y/N was just so different from everyone else. She never hesitated to show her true self, whatever that meant. Whether she was crying over a sad movie or dancing ecstatically at a club, he knew that she wouldn't lie to him or hold anything back. Her honesty made her extremely endearing. She was funny and carefree, and unlike some girls, she had a positive outlook on life. If it wasn't for Y/N, Johnny doubted that he would've made it through all the crap he went through during college.

No doubt, Johnny had fallen for her. But he refused to act on those feelings. To do so would be unfair to Jieun, despite them not really dating. More importantly, Y/N deserved someone better than him. Someone who actually appreciated her beauty and unique traits. She deserved someone who loved her unconditionally and showed it in every aspect of their relationship.

Johnny watched as Jieun struck up a conversation with the other party-goers. His attention went back to Y/N and how drunk she looked earlier. He wished that he could've done something to prevent her from embarrassing herself. Y/N was the last person he wanted to hurt.

The next thing you remember was waking up on the couch, your head resting on someone’s lap. Haechan was still sleeping soundly, and so were all of your friends except for Yuta. He was leaning against the wall, eyes closed. Everyone looked so peaceful.

"Ugh, my head." You moaned as you sat up. "This hangover is going to kill me."

"Can I get you anything?" Ten asked, coming out of his bedroom. He looked around the living room, noticing that the people who didn't make it home last night, were all passed out on the floor or on the couch.

You rubbed your forehead, getting up and padding towards the kitchen. “Coffee, please.”

He handed you the mug and a pack of Advil. "Are you feeling better?"

"Just peachy." You replied sarcastically. "Not at all.”

Ten laughed. "Don't worry, you'll feel better tomorrow."

As soon as he walked back into the living room to wake everyone up, you finished your mug of coffee and padded into your bedroom to freshen up. You went through your closet, trying to figure out what to wear. You needed to dress casual, since you planned on spending most of the day lounging around the house, drinking coffee and playing games. Unfortunately, you couldn't decide between wearing sweatpants or shorts. Finally, after much deliberation, you chose to pair leggings with a gray tank top. Once you were done, you wandered back into the living room to wait for everyone else to wake up.

You didn't need to wait too long. Before you knew it, Taeyong and Renjun joined you at the kitchen table with cups of coffee. Mark rubbed at his eyes, sitting up from the couch, Haechan stirred next to him.

“Where did you two sleep?” You asked Taeyong and Renjun, curious.

Taeyong gave you a pointed look. “Like on the floor. At least Yuta was against the wall.”

You grinned. "I'm surprised no one took over my bed."

"I'm surprised no one put you to bed," Yuta muttered as he joined the group.

"Haechan was hogging her on the couch." Mark sleepily muttered.

"I was going to help her to her room but then I got sleepy and she was sleepy," Haechan yawned. "So we both passed out on the couch."

"Who didn't go home last night?" You asked Ten .

"Mark, Haechan, Renjun, Taeyong, and Yuta." Taeil replied. "Oh. Kun passed out on my bedroom floor."

“Haha. Let's go get breakfast once they wake up. What should we do today?” You asked the group of hungover men.

“Eat breakfast. Drink more coffee. Play video games. Whatever you want.” Kun shrugged, coming from Ten's bedroom. He stretched and yawned loudly. “Today is a free day. We can do whatever you want."

“Okay, sounds good. Can I shower first?” You asked, rubbing your eyes.

“Of course. Don't take too long. We're waiting.” Taeyong smirked.

“Whatever.” You replied. You slowly trudged upstairs to your bedroom. Once you were inside, you stripped off your clothes, letting them fall to the floor. You slid under the warm spray of water and scrubbed your hair vigorously. Soon, you stepped out of the shower, toweling off your hair and wrapping the towel around your body. Then you pulled on a pair of black yoga pants and an old, faded red t-shirt. Once you were ready, you padded downstairs to grab your purse and keys.

Once you returned to the living room, you found everyone waiting for you. They all sat around the living room, sipping on their morning coffees.

"Alright, let's go get breakfast." You declared happily.

"Good idea." Yuta agreed, getting up from the couch. "Let's not waste another minute here."

"We don't need another minute." Mark commented, looking around the room.

When you arrived at your favorite restaurant, everyone piled out of the car, stretching and yawning. The restaurant was fairly empty, save for the employees. So, when the owner came up to greet you all, you smiled.

"Morning! Glad to see my favorite group of hungover college kids." She beamed, her arms wide opened.

You stepped into her arms. "Morning mom. Can you feed us now?"

"Anything for my favorite daughter." Your mom kissed your cheek, ignoring your comment that you were her only child. Your mom looked at the rest of the group. “Now what can I get for you hungover kids?”

“Your egg sandwiches, auntie.” Ten muttered.

“Coffee.” Mark yawned. “Lots and lots of coffee.”

“Can I get toast, bacon, and fries, auntie?” Renjun asked.

"Oh, god, come on." Taeyong groaned, sitting down at a nearby table. "Just give me some coffee and bacon, I'll be fine. Please auntie."

After you placed your order, you settled down at the table, joining your friends.

"Why are we meeting here every morning?" Yuta yawned, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Because it's close to campus, you get free food and you know my mom loves you all." You shook your head, helping the staff pour everyone coffee or orange juice into their mugs and cups. You made your thanks, the staff smiling.

"One of the perks of being Y/N's friends," Kun laughed. "Free food from her mom's restaurant. Lucky us."

"True that." Ten nodded, finishing off his egg sandwich. "Man, I love her mom's sandwiches."

"She makes the best ones." You agreed, stealing a fry from Renjun's plate.

A few minutes later, the rest of the food was delivered.

"Can I have your bacon and eggs?" Ten asked, pointing at your plate.

You raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think you deserve to eat someone else's bacon?"

"Doesn't hurt to ask." He grinned, grabbing your plate. "But you can always share."

Everyone chuckled as you shoved a fry into Ten's mouth.

"So where did Johnny end up going last night?" You asked suddenly. “I really didn’t see him last night. I mean I saw him before I passed out.”

"He didn't stay long." Mark answered. "Around midnight, he left with Jieun."

"Ah." You frowned. "Makes sense. They never stay long whenever I'm around."

"They probably just wanted to spend time together." Kun explained. "Jieun and Johnny were really cute together. She followed him everywhere he went."

"Did you ever tell him that you liked him?" Yuta asked you suddenly.

"What?" You blinked. How did Yuta know about that?

"You did flirt with him a little." Renjun reminded you. "At least, that's what I saw."

"Whatever." You rolled your eyes. "It was barely any flirting."

"Come on Y/N," Mark shook his head. "Johnny was staring at you the whole night before Jieun came."

"It's the tatts, Mark." You replied. "He was asking me about them earlier."

"Seriously though." Yuta continued. "If you like him, why didn't you ever say anything?"

"I thought he'd never notice me." You sighed, knowing that there was no way to escape the converstation. "I'm not the type of girl that guys usually like."

"Really?" Mark raised an eyebrow. "There's nothing wrong with you."

"It's the tatts, huh?" Taeyong muttered, looking at your tattooed arm. "I mean, I love a girl that has tatts."

"Guys will always find something to complain about." You nodded your head. “But thanks for that Taeyong.”

"Well," Renjun interrupted, chuckling slightly. "There's nothing wrong with your tattoos."

"Yeah." Haechan agreed. "They're pretty cool."

"I agree." Ten smiled. "And sexy as hell."

You blushed, ignoring everyone's laughter. But it wasn't long before you were in a conversation about your tattoos again. About how pretty you thought they were and about how unique each tattoo was. It felt good, having such amazing friends that were willing to talk about your ink. You knew it would probably never happen with other groups of guys you hung out with. Not because they didn't care, but because they were afraid to offend you. Which is why you weren't surprised when the subject turned to sex.

It was always sex with these guys.

Why were you friends with these sex-crazed guys?

"So..." Taeyong started, shooting a pointed glance at you. "Are there any guys here you want to bang?"

"Hear me out. I know he has a girl and I know someone's going to beat me up for saying it or even thinking of it," You decided to just tell the truth. You looked around biting your lip, making sure your mom didn’t hear you. "Johnny. He seems like a good fuck."

"Damn," Haechan raised his eyebrows. "Y/N and Johnny would be hot, to be honest."

"No shit." Renjun nodded. "They'd be the hottest couple on campus."

You rolled your eyes and laughed with the others. You and Johnny? If only that was possible.

He still has a girlfriend after all.

The days passed quickly. After hanging out with the group for breakfast, you usually went off on your own, doing homework or just spending time alone in your room. But one day, after lunch, you decided to join your friends again. This time you met up with Taeyong, Doyoung, Winwin, Xiaojun, and Jaemin.

You sat at the table, eating as everyone told you stories about who they hooked up with last night. You rolled your eyes when Taeyong started telling you about his drunken hookup with a girl named Minah.

"Drunk sex?" You scoffed, giving him a look. "Really?"

"Don't act like you haven't done that." Taeyong narrowed his eyes. "With as many times as you had drunken sex with Doyoung."

"Please don't bring that up. Every time you guys mention it, I feel bad." You groaned as Doyoung sputtered on his food. You reached out and patted his back. “But admit it Doyoung, the sex was good.”

"We don't mention it!" Taeyong responded to you, rolling his eyes at Doyoung’s reaction. "It's not our fault you're always horny!"

"Shut up. Just shut up." You threw your napkin at him, the others laughing.

You were surprised when the next person you noticed looking at you wasn't Xiaojun or Doyoung or Jaemin or even Winwin. Instead, it was your very handsome friend, Johnny. You didn't even know he would be here. He was out with others that were in his classes.

His dark brown eyes met yours across the room. There was something about the way he stared at you that made you blush. Your cheeks were hot. Even your ears felt hot. Why was this guy looking at you so intensely? And so much?

“Is there a reason why you’re staring at Johnny so much?” Xiaojun asked, leaning back in his chair.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Um…”

"She wants to fuck him." Jaemin muttered. "Renjun told me the other day."

"But then again, what girl doesn't want to fuck, Johnny?" You asked, shrugging your shoulders. "Jieun is one lucky bitch."

You tried not to look at him anymore. Because whenever you looked at him, your stomach would flip. He was just too beautiful. Too sexy. Too perfect. It didn't help that he was already famous for dating the popular girl. Not that you weren't popular.

No wonder every single girl kept trying to hit on him. You included. You've been fighting the urge to kiss him since you met him at that event you hosted with Mark for the foreign exchange students. But he still had a girlfriend. A serious girlfriend.

Yet, here you were, constantly looking at Johnny like he was a piece of candy that you desperately wanted. Or maybe like you were salivating at the sight of him. Yes, that sounded more appropriate.

Like you wanted to eat him alive.

You wanted to suck on his lips. Suck on his tongue. Slap his hard cock against your naked pussy.

God, you wish you could touch him. Touch his face. His arms. His chest. Hell, just touch his skin. To see if it was as soft as it looked.

Or if it was rough.

Maybe Johnny likes rougher sex than the girls he normally slept with. What do you know about him, huh? Nothing. And yet, you keep imagining yourself with him. Imagining how it would feel to lay beneath him, letting him fuck you from behind. Thinking about how incredible it would feel to take his load all over your face. Or maybe deep inside you. The possibilities were endless. You just couldn't seem to stop thinking about him.

Your friends didn't know about the way you fantasized about him.

At least, they hadn't said anything. Yet.

"Ah, fuck." You let out a sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Doyoung gave you a concerned look. “You okay, Y/N?”

You nodded in reply.

You were seriously losing control. That was a first. For as long as you could remember, you had been able to hold yourself back from acting on your urges. The fact that you had no self-control around him should've made you realize you shouldn't be with him. It should make you run away. But instead, your heart yearned to feel his body pressed against yours.

Why? You wondered. Why did you keep wanting him?

You took another bite of your salad, listening to your friends talking amongst themselves. And once again, Johnny’s name was brought up.

“Yeah, I heard he spent most of the weekend with Jieun.” Xiaojun said casually.

You sighed softly, hoping that he wouldn’t ask any questions about it.

The next week was rather uneventful. Since it was your last year of college, you have stayed late almost every night studying or doing homework. Sometimes, if your apartment was occupied, you would go to Hendery’s, Jeno’s or Yangyang’s rooms and study there since they often partied, playing sports or going to the gym. So you were surprised when Wednesday afternoon found you walking back to your apartment alone.

As you approached your building, you noticed Johnny standing near the front doors. Of course he was there. No doubt he had been waiting for you.

His posture screamed 'alpha male'. All six feet one inch of him stood rigidly, like he was prepared to strike at any moment. And the muscles in his arms and chest were clearly defined under his tight black shirt. Damn. You wanted to get closer to him, to see if those bulging biceps were real.

You swallowed nervously. How does a girl like you even get a chance to meet the guy that every other girl wants? What makes you different from all the rest? You were one of his best friends that's for sure.

You watched as he began talking to someone. A girl. And she seemed to respond well to his attention. She smiled as he leaned down to speak to her. She giggled. She touched his arm lightly. She probably thinks she's special. Probably thinks that he's interested in her. As if.

But he looks happy. Smiling. Even talking to her. Ah, this must be Jieun, the girlfriend. She was actually really cute. Much prettier than you expected her to be. Short hair cut in a layered style. Brown eyes. And a small nose.

The way his gaze lingered on her for a few moments longer than necessary, she seemed to be flattered. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing him tightly. Her head resting on his shoulder as she gazed at him with longing. It was then that you realized that he was completely oblivious to your presence.

What was wrong with you? Why are you watching them like that? Why can't you turn away? God damn it! Stop acting like some sort of pervert.

You cleared your throat. Maybe he won't notice you if you ignore him. It worked the last time. Didn't it?

But to your dismay, he did.

"Hi Y/N!" He said cheerfully, looking up and meeting your gaze. "I've been waiting for you."

Oh god.

"Hey Johnny," You forced yourself to say. Your voice came out low and shaky. You struggled to find your words. Suddenly, you felt like an awkward teenager again. Like your face was on fire.

Johnny nodded towards Jieun, causing her to frown slightly. Then he shot you a mischievous smile. "Let's go up."

It took everything you had to push past him and enter your building. Thankfully, Jieun left before you reached your apartment door. You were grateful. You didn't need her prying questions right now.

Inside your home, you stood in the living room, suddenly feeling extremely nervous. Ten wasn’t home yet, so you felt a bit nervous that you were left alone with Johnny. This had never before. Why all of a sudden were you feeling nervous in front of your best friend?

"Do you want a drink?" You offered nervously. "A soda or water? Wine?"

"A glass of red wine sounds nice." He replied without hesitation.

Relief flooded you as you hurried to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Thankfully, you had stocked the fridge earlier that day.

When you returned to the living room, Johnny was sitting on the couch, sipping his wine and watching TV.

He's so gorgeous. Why does he have to be so goddamn beautiful?

"So..." You started awkwardly. "How have you been?"

"Same old, same old." He shrugged. "What about you?"

You frowned. "Nothing new. Apart from hanging with the guys.”

He glanced at you quickly. Something passed between the two of you. Something strange. Something exciting. You squirmed in your seat, trying to focus on anything else besides the way his eyes smoldered at you. You felt like your whole world was going crazy. Everything around you became fuzzy. The way his voice sounded. The way his muscles flexed underneath his clothes. The way he gazed at you. Oh god.

Fuck.

Stop it. You chided yourself. This isn’t happening. Don’t give in to him. This is bad. Really bad.

“I’m glad we finally got to hang out tonight.” He said after a few moments of silence.

“Me too.” You replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “I mean, I guess I haven’t seen you since you’ve been busy with Jieun.”

Johnny nodded thoughtfully. “True.”

"You never talked about her." You pointed out quietly.

He grimaced. "We don't really talk about her that often."

"Do you like her?"

"Who?"

You exhaled sharply. "Jieun. Do you like her?"

Johnny furrowed his brows. "Why do you ask?"

You hesitated, wishing you hadn't brought it up. "Well...you look pretty happy when you're with her."

He smiled briefly. "It's complicated."

"Are you two together?" You questioned. "Is that why you always sit with her during class?"

"Well, we're definitely close." He said simply.

And then, he was silent.

“Isn’t she your girlfriend?” You blurted out. “Shouldn’t you spend time with her instead of me?”

He cocked his head to the side. “No, we’re not together.”

“Really?” You felt relieved. Thank god.

Johnny laughed. “Of course. We aren’t dating. We’ve slept together a few times but we’re not dating.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. Good. At least he was being honest. You tried not to think about what kind of relationship they had. What kind of relationship they had had. But you couldn’t help but notice how they interacted with each other. The way they looked at each other. How they held hands.

“Was my best friend jealous?” Johnny peered at your face, a smile on his lips. “Because I could swear that you were staring at us.”

“I was not!” You denied. “There was nothing to stare at.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t try and deny it.”

“No, I’m telling the truth. There was nothing to stare at.” You insisted.

“Sure there was.” He grinned, taking another sip of his wine.

“Trust me. There was nothing.” You responded forcefully. “There was no reason for me to watch you and Jieun together. You weren’t kissing or anything.”

“Really?” His expression grew serious. “What if I asked you to kiss me right now? Would you?”

“Fuck, Suh.” You burst out. “That’s impossible. You know that, right?”

“But would you want to?” He persisted. “Would you kiss me right now if I asked you?”

“I…” You stopped.

How the hell was you supposed to answer that question?

This conversation was turning into something you never expected it to be. Was it really just a friendly request or something more?

And what would your friends say if they saw you two making out in the middle of the living room? If they saw you grinding against him on the couch?

“God dammit.” You groaned, slumping back onto the couch. “Johnny, what the fuck are you doing to me?”

“Hmmm?” He peered at you curiously.

“Why does this have to happen?” You groaned, trying hard not to panic. “What are you trying to do to me?”

He gave you a playful smile. “I'm not doing anything to you.”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “Then why am I feeling this way?”

“Because you want me.” He replied simply. “Because you’re attracted to me. Because you can’t resist me. Because you feel something when I look at you.”

His confession sent shockwaves through your body. You sat motionless on the couch. Unable to comprehend what he just told you. Unable to believe him.

“Are you attracted to me too?” You whispered. “Is that why you keep looking at me?”

Johnny stared at you silently for several seconds. Then he grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently.

“Yes. Yes, I am.” He confirmed.

You gaped at him.

“Really?” You repeated hesitantly.

“I'm not lying to you.” He assured you. “I want you. I want you so badly that I can barely breathe sometimes. But if I tell you that, will you run away? Will you break our friendship because of this?”

“No.” You answered instantly. “No. I’d never do that. I wouldn’t even be able to think straight. Not to mention the fact that the guys would kill me.”

He chuckled. “Why’s that?”

“They know that I have a thing for you.” You admitted. “They see the way I look at you. They tease me about it all the time. I guess it’s easier for them to accept it if they knew that I’m attracted to someone who likes me back. Someone who I can be myself around. That’s why they won’t mind if we date. As long as I’m with someone who accepts me.”

He grinned. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“So…what should we do?” You asked tentatively.

He raised his eyebrows. “About what?”

“Um…this.” You gestured towards yourself. “This attraction between us. It seems like we both want it. So…is it possible that maybe we could…I don’t know…do something about it? Maybe meet up somewhere private? Or at least have sex. In my bed? On your couch?”

Johnny’s eyes lit up. “You want to have sex with me?”

“Fuck, Johnny.” You ran your hand through your hair, noticing his eyes on your tatted arm. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” He murmured huskily. “Like I'm going to take you upstairs and rip your clothes off? Like I'm going to shove my cock inside you and fuck you until you scream?”

You moaned. Fuck yes. That's exactly what you want.

“Don’t you want to?” He pressed. “Don’t you want me to make love to you? To touch every inch of your skin? To lick your nipples and suck on your breasts?”

You bit your lip.

“Fuck. Please stop talking. Just fucking fuck me already.” You moaned, unable to contain your arousal any longer.

He smirked. “All right. All right. But just to warn you. I plan on treating you like the goddess that you are. Every part of your body is going to feel good to me. I’ll make sure you come over and over again.”

A fire ignited within you. This is exactly what you needed. Exactly what you wanted. The idea of getting fucked by him sent a thrill throughout your body. You loved hearing him say those words to you. Words that only a man like him could utter. And knowing that you wanted to have sex with him didn’t hurt either. It made you feel incredibly desirable.

“Tell me. Tell me what you want me to do.” Johnny said softly.

“Do whatever you want.” You replied breathlessly. “Just please. Make me cum.”

He chuckled. “If that’s what you want.”

You nodded eagerly. A devilish grin formed on his lips.

He stood up from the couch. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you up from the sofa. With one swift move, he tossed you over his shoulder.

He strode quickly towards the staircase. You shrieked, clutching at his shirt tightly. You kicked your legs wildly, desperately trying to escape from his grip.

Johnny was much stronger than you realized. Within seconds, he had thrown you down onto your bed. With one quick movement, he jumped on top of you. Your heart thundered against your chest.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours. Kissing you fiercely.

Your body responded instinctively. Your pussy throbbed, begging for attention. Your nipples hardened beneath your shirt, yearning for a hard squeeze.

As his tongue probed into your mouth, his hands slid underneath your shirt. Pushing it up and off your shoulders.

His warm fingers trailed over your skin. Sending chills throughout your entire body. His lips trailed down your neck, licking and sucking at your sensitive flesh. Every single movement was driving you wild.

Every stroke of his tongue and caress of his fingertips set you on fire. You were soaking wet, longing for him to take you. For him to fill you with his cock. To give you the pleasure you deserve.

The moment his fingers brushed against your nipple, you let out a moan.

You arched your back, thrusting your breast towards him.

He chuckled. “God, Y/N. Are you trying to kill me?”

He grasped your bra, tearing it apart with ease. Your nipples sprang free. He rubbed his thumb over them, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through your body.

“Oooohhhh, Johnny.” You moaned.

He grinned wickedly. “Does that feel good, baby? Do you like it when I play with your tits? When I suck on your nipples?”

“Yessss.” You gasped. “More. More. Fuck.”

“Oh god.” He groaned, biting down gently on your nipple.

He continued to flick his tongue across your other nipple, flicking harder each time. Your cries became louder. You felt like you were going to explode. It took everything in you not to reach down and unzip his pants.

Instead, you threw your head back and wrapped your arms around his neck. Tugging at his hair as he teased your nipples. Moaning loudly whenever he touched your skin.

Johnny smiled. He licked his lips hungrily, giving your breasts one last slow suck before letting go.

Leaving you panting for air.

“I've got to be honest with you, baby.” He breathed, pushing himself up onto his knees. “You taste amazing. Better than anything I've ever tasted before. And there's nothing else I'd rather do right now than to spend hours tasting every inch of your gorgeous body. Touching you. Kissing you. Licking you. And slowly entering you. Until I fill you with my cum.”

“Mmmmm. Fuck yes.” You whimpered, your voice sounding like an echo in the empty bedroom.

“Now where were we?” He asked slyly. “Ahh yes, your tits. Did you want me to suck on them some more? Maybe eat you out while I played with your tits?”

“Yes.” You breathed. “Please. Oh god, yes. Please.”

He chuckled. “Anything for you, baby. Anything.”

Slowly standing up, he began to strip off his shirt. Each piece of clothing was removed with great care. His tattoos were displayed prominently. They looked beautiful as always. The sight of them caused you to sigh in appreciation.

Once his shirt was completely gone, he leaned forward, placing a tender kiss on your stomach.

“That's better.” He whispered. “Now you're ready for me.”

His hands sliding your pants off. His lips kissing the insides of your thighs. Caressing your inner thigh with every kiss. Leaving you quivering with desire.

“Fuck!” You cried out. “Stop teasing me. Please. Just fuck me. Now!”

“Shhh.” He whispered. “Not yet. Not yet. There's still so much left to do first. Don't worry. You'll get what you need soon enough.”

Your hands dug into his hair, pulling his face closer to your pussy. You moaned loudly. The sounds of your pleasuring filling the room. His hot breath tickling your inner thighs. Your panties drenched with your juices.

Johnny looked up at you, his dark eyes darkened with lust.

“Look at me. Look how beautiful you are.” He said huskily. “Watch me taste you. Watch as I rub my tongue over your clit. See how good it feels. Know that I'm doing it to you. That I want to eat you out so badly.”

He gripped your hips, tugging you upwards. Opening his mouth wide. Licking your entire pussy, slowly spreading your juices.

Lapping at you slowly, teasingly. Going lower and lower until his tongue found your swollen clit. Pressing hard against it, rubbing his tongue in circles.

“Fuuuck.” You cried out. “Johnny! Johnny!”

“Such dirty talk, baby.” He said with a laugh. “Let me hear it. Let me hear you beg for me to make you cum. I want to hear you screaming for me.”

You clawed at his back, trying to pull his face deeper into your pussy. Screaming obscenities. Making animalistic sounds. Biting down on your pillow as he gave you all the pleasure you deserved.

Finally, his tongue plunged deep inside your pussy. Flicking over your clit in rapid succession. Sucking on it and flicking it. Pulling away occasionally to tease you. Tasting your juices. Giving you an extra burst of pleasure every time.

His pace increased rapidly. Pulling away for brief moments only to return immediately. Giving you even more pleasure than you expected. Soon you were trembling, nearing the point of no return.

It took everything you had not to lose control. Your entire body was consumed by ecstasy. Your pussy contracting rhythmically around his mouth. Pumping his tongue inside you, trying to keep yourself from coming. From exploding with orgasmic bliss.

But you couldn't hold it anymore. You began to cry out. Your body shuddered.

Sensing your impending climax, Johnny stopped sucking on your clit. He withdrew his tongue, but kept his lips firmly pressed against it. Keeping your orgasm contained.

His hands remained firmly on your hips. Tugging at your hips, forcing your body further upwards. You cried out as you tried to pull his face back into your pussy. Trying to force yourself to cum.

You came with a loud scream, your entire body tensing. Johnny followed your lead, groaning loudly as you pushed your pussy back into his face. Your thighs squeezing tight around his head, pulling him tighter against your clit. Your entire body trembling violently. Spasms racking your body. Bringing forth the most intense sensation you had ever experienced.

Suddenly, he stopped. Letting go of your hips. Sliding off your sweaty body. Standing up from the bed. Looking down at you.

“Baby, I know you came, but I'm not done yet.” He said quietly.

Looking down at your spread thighs, he smirked. He began to undo his pants.

You panted, waiting impatiently for him to reveal his erection. You knew what was coming next. You knew this would be the moment of truth. Would he be able to satisfy you? Would he actually be able to give you the satisfaction you were craving?

With one swift motion, his erect cock sprung free. Your eyes widened, almost as if you were surprised to see it. You hadn't been expecting it to be that big.

And you weren't wrong. His cock was absolutely enormous. Longer than any penis you had ever seen. Bulging with potential. You wondered if he could possibly fit inside you.

If he would hurt you.

But you know he wouldn't.

You stared at his cock hungrily, staring at it in disbelief. In awe. You reached out tentatively, touching it lightly. Fingers shaking slightly. Shaking as they traced their way along its length.

You felt the weight of it in your hand. Thicker than any cock you had ever felt. Fuller than any dick you had ever seen.

Before you could fully appreciate his massive erection, he grabbed hold of your wrist. Moving your hand to the tip of his cock.

“Just think about it.” He said quietly. “Imagine how amazing it will feel. Just imagine the sensations running through your body. Imagine how incredible it will feel to have this inside of you. How much more powerful it will be than any dick you've ever had before.”

Thinking about how large his dick would feel stretching your pussy open. Knowing that once he penetrated you, he would never leave. He would be inside you forever. Bringing you so much pleasure.

Giving you such pleasure. Satisfying you so deeply. Giving you what you needed. Allowing you to finally release all your pent up sexual tension. Giving you the ultimate sexual experience.

Feeling overwhelmed with emotion, you placed your lips against the head of his cock. Your tongue darting out. Drawing the warm liquid from his shaft. Overwhelmingly delicious.

Moving down, your lips parted. Your tongue sliding out of your mouth. Stretching out towards his cock. Swirling around it like a tiny tornado. Slickly coating his member with saliva. Getting him nice and wet. Allowing you to slide it further inside your mouth. Gently sucking on it, making sure to take it all in.

“Fuck.” He growled. “Oh fuck. You are so fucking sexy. So beautiful.”

Smiling brightly, you returned his compliment. Leaning forward, your tongue moved further into his crotch. Taking him even deeper inside your mouth. Tongue twirling around his thick base. Up and down the full length of his shaft. Playing with his balls. Feeling the resistance of his perineum.

Slowly moving back up to his tip. Taking him deeper inside your mouth again. Working your way down, taking him all the way to the bottom. Running your tongue along the underside of his shaft. As you slid back up to the tip, you sucked on it gently.

He groaned loudly, reaching out to grab hold of your head. Pushing you downwards so he could sink even deeper into your throat. Your nose pressed against his pubes, inhaling the musky scent. Sucking on his cock like it was a popsicle. Gagging a little bit. His thick length hitting the back of your throat with each movement.

Panting heavily, he held your head firmly in place. Gasping for air as he let out another moan. His dick pulsating wildly inside your mouth. Fluid seeping out of the end of his cock. Massaging your throat. Causing it to tingle pleasantly.

As he released his grip, you released his cock from your mouth. Pausing for a moment to catch your breath. Smiling happily at him. Proud of yourself for being able to handle his huge cock.

He smiled back at you. Reaching down, his fingers wrapping around your chin. Pulling you close to him. He kissed you passionately. Wrapping his arms around you. Holding you tightly. He tasted wonderful. His scent intoxicating. His warmth reassuring.

Gripping your ass tightly, he pulled you onto his lap. Sitting you down onto his hard cock. Watching as it filled your pussy. Slowly slipping inside of you.

Stopping halfway inside you, he gently lifted you up. Removing his erection from your pussy. Grinning as he laid you down on the bed. Positioning himself between your legs. His hard cock positioned at your entrance.

Pulling back slightly, he looked down at you. Seeing the desire in your eyes. Waiting for him to thrust his thick cock inside of you.

Taking a deep breath, he gripped your waist tightly. Slowly pushing forward. Delving inside of you. Feeling you wrap your legs around him. Tightening them around his body. Moaning loudly as he filled you completely.

Releasing his grip on your waist, he grabbed hold of your wrists. Placing them above your head. Hanging limply as he slowly fucked you. Gently pumping his cock into you.

Grinding your hips against him. Panting as you struggled to breathe properly. Wanting desperately to touch his cock, to stroke it. To watch it twitch in your hand. But he didn't allow you to do anything. He continued to thrust into you. Stroking his dick as fast as he could.

“Please.” You begged. “I need you to come inside of me. Please.”

Chuckling, he responded. “Not yet, sweetheart. Not just yet.”

His words spurred you on. Suddenly wanting nothing more than to feel his load splatter inside of you. Needing to feel his seed filling your pussy. Pouring into your body. And you would love every minute of it. Every single second.

He suddenly pulled out of you. Rolling over onto his back. “Climb on top of me. Put your tits in my face. I want to suck on them while you ride me.”

Lifting your ass, you quickly straddled his naked body. Hooking your fingers behind his neck. Settling yourself down onto his hard cock. You moaned loudly as you impaled yourself on him. Your hips bucking back and forth.

Johnny gripped your breasts, tugging on your nipples as you rode him. Squeezing your nipples hard. Twisting them as you slammed your pussy down on his dick. Slowly increasing the speed. Riding him faster and harder until he felt the familiar pressure building up inside of him.

“Hang on baby. Hang on. I'm going to come. Oh god.”

Moaning loudly, you brought yourself closer to climax. Johnny's dick pounding your walls relentlessly. Your whole body shuddering uncontrollably.

Feeling his climax building, Johnny wrapped his arms around you. Holding you tightly. Ensuring that you remain steady. Bringing you closer to release. Kneading your breasts, milking them roughly. Pleasuring them until you were completely overcome by pleasure.

Your orgasm ripping through your body. Crashing down upon you with relentless force. Sweeping you away into an ocean of pure bliss.

He moaned loudly, holding you tight. Panting heavily as he came inside of you. Your pussy gripping him tightly. Keep his semen within you. Silencing his lustful thoughts. Pushing them away, allowing him to rest peacefully.

Holding you closely, he watched as your climax slowly faded away. You lay on his chest, your breathing still erratic.

“So good.” You breathed softly.

“So fucking good.” He agreed. “That was the best. The absolute best."

"The best sex I've had in a long time." You let out a small laugh. You heard the front door of your apartment opening and closing, hearing voices talking about Johnny's coat and shoes. Someone, sounded like Taeyong, laughing at how you and Johnny finally fucked.

"I can hear you guys!" You yelled.

Johnny chuckled. "So I guess the guys are right outside, and they know exactly what happened."

Groaning, you buried your face into Johnny's shoulder. "I can hear Renjun and Haechan asking me all sorts of questions."

Smirking, Johnny spoke. "We can just tell them that the hot tattooed people are finally a couple."

"A couple?" You asked, lifting your head up. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Well, I originally came to see you tonight because I was on a mission." He laughed. "Will you be my girlfriend, Y/N?"

Laughing loudly, you hugged him tightly. "I'd love to be your girlfriend, Johnny."

Letting out a sigh of relief, he relaxed against you. "Thank god."

He mumbled, resting his head against yours. Breathing in your lovely scent, he listened to the sound of your heart beating. "This is the first time I've been with someone I really care about. So I don't want to mess it up. It has to work."

Snuggling against him, you smiled. "Don't worry. We'll figure it out together."

"Can I tell you something?"

"Yes." You answered, curious to hear what he was going to say.

"I love you." He told you. "And you need to know that."

"I love you too." You mumbled, running your fingers through his messy hair. "Forever."

He closed his eyes, biting his lower lip. A mischievous smirk appeared on his lips. He looked down at your tattooed sleeve, running his finger over a sunflower one. "I really love this design. What does it mean?"

You chuckled. "Sunflowers remind me of you."

Johnny froze, looking down at your tattoo.

You were shocked to see tears forming in his eyes. But you didn't have time to worry about it because he immediately placed a tender kiss on your lips.

Your heart fluttered wildly at his actions. Never had you felt so alive.

So happy.

So loved.

You hugged him tightly.

"Remember when you used to tease me about getting tattoos?" He asked you, giving you a sheepish smile. He caressed your cheek. "Remember when I told you I wouldn't get another one unless you joined me?"

"Yup." You nodded. "What happened to getting one with me?"

"I eventually got it with Taeyong and Yuta since I wasn't sure whether you wanted one with me or not." Johnny explained. "I'm still waiting to get one with you."

"What if I gave you the tattoo?" You offered, tracing his shoulder tattoo. "One of my designs so it's like you're taking me with you anywhere you go."

"I would love to be inked by you." Johnny whispered, turning his gaze towards you. "Anywhere you want."

Your breath hitched. This is exactly what you wanted.

You could only imagine the gorgeous tattoos you would create together. They would be so incredibly beautiful. A masterpiece. You would cherish them forever.

It would also make you feel special. Knowing that no matter where you went, Johnny would always carry part of you with him. Always be thinking of you. Remembering you. Cherishing your creations.

You didn't know how you could express how grateful you were for his words. Or for him choosing you. Loving you. Being with you.

All you knew was that you were going to treasure these feelings for as long as possible.

[ashboy-3]

The Unspoken Deal

Fandom: Danny Phantom, John Constantine, and DCU Characters: John Constantine, Danny Fenton/Phantom, Batman, Superman, other JL members Words: 3507 Summary:

Danny and John have a deal. It's a simple deal. Every month they have a meet up. Danny keeps as much control over the ghost as he can in return John keeps track of them in the human realm. That's it nothing else should be so simple.

So why do feelings keep getting involved and why does the justice league suddenly seem so interested in the beings of the infinite realms.

John knows one thing for sure: This is all Danny's fault.

“You know these meetings are supposed to be taken seriously? Right mate?” John Constantine asked, only a little annoyed at dealing with the half-ghost.

“Who says? The council, meh I don’t really fully care what they have to say,” the half-ghost laughed, throwing another snowball at the human.

“Why do I put up with you again?” Constantine rubbed his hand over his face.

“You love me,” the ghost teased.

“What makes you so sure,” John hid the small smile that was on his face. He would never admit it, but the half ghost does hold a special place within his heart, a place that very few ever made it to.

“Any big threats I need to know about?” the ghost floated in front of John, ignoring the question that was being asked of him.

“Nothing I’ve heard about oh Danny boy,” John nodded towards him, watching as the Ghost King looked him up and down.

“Sell your soul recently?” Danny eyed him.

“Don’t know what your talkin about mate,” John avoided looking at the ghost, choosing instead to focus on his neglected cigarette.

“Well mate,” Danny easily copied the brit’s accent. “I happen to have a soul piece here.” Danny took the small delicate object out of his pocket, showing it off to John’s widened eyes.

“Be careful with that!” He shouted, seeing Danny just throwing it in the air as if it was a plastic ball.

“I would be if you didn’t treat your soul like a throw away joke,” Danny glared at his old friend, watching him put out the cancer stick as the two walked inside the castle also known as phantom’s keep and talk. “I’m serious John. Every time you sell your soul, I have to find a way to get it. You’ve sold over half of your soul. Soon you won’t have any pieces left,” Danny rolled his eyes, walking into a room where he keeps a singular candy jar, dropping the glowing piece in the jar. It made a small clink as it fell with the other pieces.

“That really is my whole soul isn’t it,” John peaked into the room to look at the jar.

“Farid so. Makes almost a whole soul. Be careful, our time is almost up so I’ll be seeing you next month?” Danny frowned at the idea of John leaving.

“I’ll be sure to give you a call if something comes up mate,” John assured him.

“And the heroes will be kept out of my realm?” They both know Danny’s rules about humans walking around the realms. Even now, years later from his teenage years, the humans he allows in are few and small. Adding heroes to that list just makes it worse.

“No heroes,” John assured him, opening the portal with a simple spell, stepping back into the house of mystery. “I’ll be seeing you ole Danny boy,” John smiled a sad smile at watching the portal close, shutting off his communication with the older ghost.

Recently all of their monthly meetings have the old warlock feeling like this. Feeling like something is missing or wrong. Sometimes he debates saying more, extending their meetings, even offering to meet more than once a month, but it never goes that far, choosing instead to ignore the feeling and continue on his day.

Pouring himself a drink, a favorite activity of his. He couldn’t help the groan that came from his mouth at hearing his phone ring.

Ring Ring Ring

Constantine sighed as the annoying ring hurt his ears. It was worse when he checked the caller ID. “What do ya want bats. Ima little busy?”

“Meeting at the watchtower. Be there,” the rough voice ordered from the phone.

“You could at least butter me up a little,” the thick British accent responded. Batman didn’t dignify him with a response, choosing instead to just hang up the phone.

“Well doll seems I still can’t take a break,” John signed, talking to the house. Downing his drink within one gulp he casted another spell, landing him right in the watchtower.

“Do you have to appear on the table every time?” Superman asked in wonder.

“Just how magic works mate,” John dusted off his tan coat, stepping off the table that was surrounded by multiple leaguers. “Alright what’s this whole shin dig about?”

“We have gotten multiple reports and sightings about strange creatures,” Batman started, clicking buttons on a small remote for all of the leaguers to see. Up on the big screens were creatures, creatures that Constantine was very familiar with. A bad feeling began to weave its way into his liver ruined gut.

“Are they aliens?” one of the leaguers questioned.

“Nothing in any of our databases,” Hal shook his head with crossed arms.

“Nothing from under the sea,” Aquaman agreed.

“So, they’ve come from a strange place that none of us have heard about?” Wonder Woman threw her hands in the air from disbelief.

“I don’t believe they come from the underworld, but John would be a better judge then me,” Zatara looked towards the brit.

“I don’t know nothing bout them mate. Prolly best to leave them be for now,” John shrugged, ignoring the questioning looks he was getting from some his ‘coworkers’ with trust issues.

“I’ll look more into them,” Zatara nodded. “Find out if they become a threat.” He assured the league.

“We’ll be looking into the lantern database and getting contact with others, find out if anyone knows anything,” Jon agreed, nodding towards Hal. All three getting up to leave the table.

“Well, if that’s all I’ll be on my bloody way. Drag me out of my house for notin,” John muttered angrily.

“Actually, John if you wouldn’t mind having a conversation with me?” Zatara asked, waving him over.

“Fine,” the brit groaned, getting a pack of his smokes out, lighting one up within the watchtower, ignoring glares he was getting from the three top dogs.

Zatara had taken John to a lone room, nothing really in it besides a desk, a few chairs, and one small couch, it was clearly only a room used for conversations.

“What’s this bout?” John wondered.

“You know something about those creatures,” Zatara stated firmly.

“I know nothin bout nothin,” John nodded, not agreeing with the magician’s statement.

“Oh please, you’re eyes widened when you saw the pictures. If you know something it should be shared. I will not reveal your secrets, however if you refuse to say anything it will just cause everyone, including me, to dig deeper into them.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise. They could be dangerous.”

John laughed at that statement. “If that’s all I’m leaving.” Zatara was ready to fight back but looking up he discovered to see the brit gone.

***

“Danny mate pick up your damn phone!” John yelled at the blasted thing from his third time calling his old friend, now pacing around the old House of Mystery. Grabbing the full glass of scotch that the house kindly made for him.

“Sorry John. I was in a meeting,” Danny smiled into the phone. He may be a supernatural being, but he still had plenty to use of his fourteen-year-old mind, an age he hasn’t been for many years.

“Danny you bloody idiot! I thought that you were keeping them under control!” John yelled into the phone, surprising Danny.

“Don’t you dare yell at me John Constantine!” Danny yelled back into the phone, stopping him in his place.

“You’re right. I’m sorry Danny boy. The Justice League just got on my bloody ass about your spooks. Bats is ready to go to war with them,” John sat down in his chair.

“Want to summon me? We can talk about it?” Danny asked into the phone, both knew the undertones of the conversation.

“Things never go right when I summon you,” John refused to look towards a picture of him and Danny. The old ghost laughing, his baby face unable to grow much facial hair, as John cheered a beer, a smile on his face as well. It was one of their first nights out together in the human world.

“But it’s fun. No funny business this time?” Danny offered.

“Now you’re just tempting fate love,” John grinned into his scotch.

“You’re easy to tempt,” Danny nodded in agreement, both understanding the silent message.

Grabbing a piece of green glowing chalk John stumbled towards an empty part of his floor, no need to look up the sigils Danny choose for his summoning. He didn’t understand most of them, but the guy laughed every time he appeared in the human realm, a silent joke that only he knows. He remembers one drunken night when Danny tried to explain, he got nowhere with the brit.

“Numquam agnus dabo te

numquam agnus dimittam te

numquam amet discurrere et deseram te

numquam agnus fac te clamare

numquam agnus dicere vale

numquam agnus dic mendacium et nocuerunt tibi”

John, always confused by the spell, spoke it loud and clear, letting the candles and lights around the house dance as the green fire descended from the hells, lighting up the circle, leaving in a swirl with a half ghost king, smiling and evil smile at him.

“You summoned me,” Danny stepped out of the circle, walking closer to John.

“I summoned you,” he agreed, the mood much different from their business meeting they had just yesterday. John’s breathing becoming deeper and heavier the closer Danny stepped towards him. It forever amazed him that the ghost could become bigger or smaller with just a thought.

“I promised no funny business,” Danny noted, his half breaths just as deep.

“Screw that!” John declared, pushing their lips together, creating a fire between the two. A fire that would not let out till the two were done.

This was routine for when John summoned Danny. A routine that neither is sure how it started, but neither regret. They both agree it’s just sex. No feelings need to be mixed in, but John can’t help the flutter in hie heart when he thinks about everything that Danny does for him. Keeping him updated, collecting his soul contracts, giving him this. It was everything that he could dream about.

“Do you want to stop?” Danny asked carefully, his breath on John’s.

“If you stop, I will exorcize you,” John glared at the ghost.

“Fair enough,” Danny laughed, the two stumbling towards John’s room in the old mystery house.

The next day, both barely clothed, wrapped up in blankets and each other, John woke up, staring at Danny, tracing his fingers over the old, faded scars.

“You’re staring again,” Danny’s eyes fluttered open.

“You make it hard not to,” John grinned at him, turning around in the bed to light a cigarette.

“You said my subjects are hurting the humans,” Danny started to sit up in the bed, the ring of rage glowing proudly on his finger.

“I never said hurting. I keep an eye on them for you here. I promised, didn’t I?” John turned towards him, clearly understanding that this is no longer pleasure, only business.

“Then what was the call about?” Danny raised an eyebrow, getting up from the bed in a way only one trained in royalty could. John thought that he was beautiful.

“Bats called in a meeting. Trying to figure out where they came from. I was honest. Told them they ain’t form the underworld. Bloody Zatara caught me. Wanted to know how I recognized them. Refused to tell him that they were looking for limbo. I made a promise to ya Danny boy and I intend to keep it,” John tapped his cigarette on the ashtray he keeps by the bed. Watching as Danny slowly dressed himself in his torn-up jeans and shirt, a jacket going with it. One would never think he was dead, much less royalty.

“Do you want me to talk to them?” Danny asked.

“Do you want to talk to them?” John uno reversed him.

“I’m free in two days. I’ll calm down the Justice League,” Danny snapped his fingers, disappearing in green fire, just the same as he arrived. John knows that when he walks back to his living room all evidence of his summoning will be gone as well.

“Damn. You have it bad,” a voice laughed from the living room.

“Damn it!” John shouted, face turning red from anger as he shut his bedroom door, a door that was not shut last night, as he quickly got dressed, stomping back into the living room. “Chas. What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“Checking up on you. Someone has to,” he shrugged. “Haven’t seen you be like that with someone in forever. So, when’s the next date?” Chas teased.

“Sod off Chas. We’re not dating,” John waved him away, grabbing a cold beer.

“Sure. You only look the people you shag like that because no feelings are attached,” Chas nodded, clearly sarcastic.

“He doesn’t want a relationship. He just wants to make sure I keep his subjects out of trouble while in the human realm. Nothing more nothing less,” John took a big gulp of beer.

“Have either of you ever actually talked about this?” Chas asked.

“C’mon mate. We’ve never talked about it because there is nothing to talk about,” John yelled. “We meet in his realm at a set time we talk. If something comes up, I can call him,” John shrugged.

“so, nothing ever happened while in his realm?” Chas raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing worth bringing up in conversation,” John argued back, the jar that contains his soul in the back of his mind.

“Sure,” Chas snorted, clearly not believing him. “I’ll leave you. Just. Don’t ruin this for yourself John. You are clearly happy with him and that doesn’t happen often with you,” Chas walked out of the house, leaving John by himself, only the house to keep him company.

“I don’t like him. I can’t like him. Why would I even like him?” John asked himself and the house. “The guy only rescues my soul every chance he can get. He willingly comes to visit the human realm for me. He willingly gave me his summoning. “Fuck!” John shouted, realization hitting him.

Panic still fresh in his brain he called up Batman. “I have news about the creatures. Meeting in two days.” John didn’t give the guy a chance to reply, closing his phone and ending the call. He has two days to get his body ass unsober as possible before he has to see Danny again.

***

“Alright bats. Everyone here?” John asked, appearing once again on the table, the annoyance clear on Superman’s face.

“You have news about the strange creatures?” Batman asked, coming from him however, everyone knew that it was an order.

“Yeah yeah. I’ll get to that. Move out of the way people,” John only got down form the table to put his bag down, grabbing the green glowing chalk, and walking back up on the table, aware that he has other magic user’s eyes on him. Writing the familiar symbols, he knew by heart. He still had the old book on his shelf, but he has no use for it.

“Be prepared mates. He’s a tad dramatic,” John warned, muttering the same summoning from before. His eyes turning white as green flames enveloped the room, clearly it was done in a more dramatic way for the audience the two have present.

“Numquam agnus dabo te

numquam agnus dimittam te

numquam amet discurrere et deseram te

numquam agnus fac te clamare

numquam agnus dicere vale

numquam agnus dic mendacium et nocuerunt tibi”

Unlike yesterday where all Danny was wearing was ripped jeans, a t-shirt full of small holes and a warm jacket, today he was draped in armor of black, white, and ecto green. The crown of fire worn proudly at the top of his head and the ring of rage glowing proudly on his finger. Fire forming under his feet as he took steps down the table. John had to take a smirk at how Danny presented himself. This is the same person who tripped over his feet walking in a straight line the other week, crashing his face right into ghost rocks. It never amazed John that Danny could present himself this way, but no one could deny the affect that it had.

“Who are you?” Batman asked, taking the lead as usual.

“Did you not explain to them?” Danny’s voice now held an echo to it, a few leaguers unsure if they were hearing him correctly.

“Sorry love figured you would love to do the honors,” John waved him off, taking a seat.

“I am Phantom. King of the Infinite Realms. John Constantine is the watcher of the human realm for me. He has informed me that the “Justice League” was getting curious about my subjects,” Danny chooses his words carefully. John snorted at his phrasing of the Justice League. “My subjects are not causing lasting harm to any humans. No humans have been injured from them or have been killed. There should be no reason that this club house is looking into my subjects,” Danny’s eyes glowed a deep green, clearly angry about the accusations he has formed in his mind.

“We never claimed that your subjects have injured anybody. We were just concerned. These are new creatures. No one knew of them, and we wanted to make sure they were not a risk,” Wonder Woman was quick to jump in.

“Hah!” Danny grinned, showing his fangs in full view. “My subjects are not new. Most have been around longer then you have been alive. It is your ignorance that has made you assume such a thing.” John knows that if this was with just the two of them alone Danny would have cracked some stupid joke like, “You know what assuming does right? Make an ass out of you and me! Ha! Come on John! It’s funny!”

“I’m sorry?” Wonder Woman was confused.

“My subjects are mostly ghost. Spirits who have refused to pass on. Spirits who have been formed from human ideals. Death, Nocturne, and Time. These are all spirits that have been formed from the thoughts of humans. They will live as long as their ideas live on. There are ones that form naturally, there are ones who have died and left this world, unable to move on they come to my realm. They come back to finish what they started, their right to, or to just cause petty mischief, something they need to do to survive. I keep an eye on every single one in the human realm. From now on if there is an issue you go straight to John. Do I make myself clear?” There was a fire burning in Danny’s eyes as he turned around, stomping out, not wanting to hear any more questions.

“Guess I have no choice but to follow his highness,” John sounded like he was mocking the king, but he knows that if Chas was here, he would call John out on his bullshit quicker then he could snap.

“Did you see their faces?” Danny smiled, as John grabbed Danny’s arm, easily bringing them back to the house of mystery.

“They believe that you are a ruthless tyrant who cares only for his people,” John agreed, pouring himself a drink.

“Pour me one. I know it’s great isn’t it! I worked all day with Ember to get that speech perfect!” Danny’s grin couldn’t get wider, John handed him the drink, watching as Danny drank it with ease.

“Listen Danny boy,” John started, happy that he had the famous liquid courage to help him In this moment.

“What is it, John?” Danny looked up from his drink. There were no problems. The Justice League was handled. What else could there be.

“Mate- Love. It has come to my attention that we might have to rethink our situation John tried, not fully sure how to get the words out.

“You’re going to have to be clearer with me John,” Danny crossed his legs, floating in midair as if Gravity didn’t exist.

“Love I-“John’s throat stopped, not letting him get the words out. “Damn it!” John chugged the rest of his drink, cursing the heavens at his predicament. “Danny I- “once again he was stopped by himself, his beer not helping him at all.

Tired of trying with words, John did the next best thing, he let his actions speak for him. Grabbing Danny, pulling him close, no lust in the moment, unlike a few days ago, he took a deep hopeful breath and pushed a messy kiss upon the half ghost. “Danny, I like you,” John was finally able to whisper.

“Took you long enough mate,” Danny’s smile was wide and hopeful, grabbing John’s neck to kiss him once again. John knows that he’s in for a lifetime of puns, but he is kissing Danny, kissing the half ghost he doesn’t regret a single thing.

[oliversrarebooks]

roger, whats it like being fitz's thrall? (aka how does it feel to be living my dream... im not jealous... totally not living vicariously through you...)

Masterlist

January 1922

TW: mind control, conditioning, blood drinking mentions of past abuse, fear of death

"You have to get up, sir." 

Roger gently shook the lump of tangled blankets and sheets that most likely contained a vampire at its core. The only real indication that his master was within was the soft groan from inside, a mumble that sounded a lot like "leave me alone."

"I can't leave you alone, sir. You have a show at 7, remember? If you don't rise and shine soon, you won't have enough time to do your hair and makeup and make it to the theater."

"Uggggggh. Why'd I schedule a show so goddamned early? What is wrong with me?" The pile of blankets huddled in on itself more tightly.

"...I suspect there may be several things, sir," said Roger, unable to resist the obvious opening and knowing that a bit of banter might put his master in a better mood. "Regardless, you did schedule the show, and you do need to leave the house for it."

"Horrible. Torturous. Excruciating." The bedclothes rustled, and Fitz poked his head out just enough to take a look. "It's so early that the sun is leaking around the curtains! The sun could kill me, Roger, you can't expect me to get up in those conditions. I could die."

"I believe that's what the curtains are for, sir. To prevent you from dying when you're unjustly forced to wake up during the day." Roger sat down on the side of the bed. He'd done this often enough to know when he was in for the long haul, and he was quite capable of patience -- a good quality to have when serving Fitz. "You were looking forward to this show, weren't you? It's a large venue, and you have your new rotating box trick."

"Mmm."

"I'm sure it will go over splendidly, sir, and you'll be afforded all the praise and applause you deserve," he said. Cheap flattery rarely failed to soften his master's mood. "Aren't you looking forward to seeing the looks of delight on your audience's faces when you perform your new trick? And besides that, aren't you looking forward to being paid?"

Fitz seemed to be lowering both his blankets and his guard. "I suppose so..."

"Excellent. Then forgive me for this, sir." Roger grabbed the covers and pulled them away, as his master produced a sound not unlike a dying cat.

With lightning fast reflexes, the blankets were wrenched from Roger's grasp, and Fitz was clutching them to himself and huddling in the middle of the bed. "How could you? How could my own thrall do such a thing? Heartless, you're simply heartless." He curled up under the blankets and stubbornly closed his eyes as if to go back to sleep.

"Of the two of us, sir, it's technically you who is heartless." Roger sighed. It was always most difficult to wake Fitz in the dead of winter. The long nights enticed his master to stay out too late sampling the city's nightlife, and the cold made him especially reluctant to leave his chambers, which, thanks to the radiators, were as hot as a furnace.

He reached down to the blankets, intending to tug on them again. This time, despite Fitz pretending to sleep, he was faster than Roger, and grasped his wrist.

Roger felt a delicious, drowsy warmth coming from his master's touch, filling his mind with cotton candy haze. It was blissfully dreamy and intoxicating, and, most dangerously, it was sleep-inducing, enticing him to shut his weary eyes and rest.

"Go back to sleep, Roger," Fitz lulled. "Curl up here. Keep me warm..."

Roger was swaying on the spot, eyelids drooping, rapidly losing himself to enchanted slumber -- but he'd been caught by this trap on plenty of occasions, and each time it ended with Fitz regretful that he'd overslept and missed his obligations. It was that memory that kept Roger just awake enough to wrench his arm away and mostly free himself from his master's dangerous temptation. Fitz was making sad little grabbing motions as Roger moved out of range of his hands.

"I'm afraid that if you wish to use your powers on me, you'll have to leave your bed to do so, sir," said Roger, standing several feet away. "The sooner you get it over with, the sooner you can get to the pleasant business of washing up." They both knew that it was a bluff. Roger had been under Fitz's thrall for many years now, and his master didn't need hypnotic touch to compel him, body and soul. But it was a bluff that usually worked.

"Fine, fine, you win." With one final dramatic groan, Fitz threw off the covers and sat up. "I'll take my shower, then. But I expect you to attend to me when I'm finished."

"Of course, sir." Roger watched as his master stumbled into the bathroom, and in a moment he could hear the sound of running water and upbeat humming. Fitz loved long, warm showers as much as he loved rolling around lazily in bed. He'd spend at least a half-hour relaxing in the steamy waters and performing his elaborate and ever-changing skin care routine, one which involved enough distinct products as to cover most of the vanity table.

This gave Roger plenty of time to make the perpetually disheveled bed, the foot-high pile of blankets, and the mountain of pillows in every shape and size. He made quick work of it, picked up the dirty clothes that had been tossed on the floor yesterday morning. 

Housekeeping was Roger's primary responsibility apart from providing blood and humoring Fitz's varied whims. With only the two of them in a reasonably sized flat, it wasn't especially difficult or time-consuming compared to when he'd lived on his own, before he'd been snatched off the street by a vampire. He'd even come to enjoy the simple chores. He wasn't sure how much of that was due to his own feelings or to Fitz's coercion -- his master grasping his shoulders and softening Roger's mind, whispering to him how much he loved to serve.

Really, it hardly mattered any more.

When he'd finished tidying up, Roger got down to the business of setting out his master's clothes. Serving Fitz was really about anticipating his moods more than anything else. With a large venue, he'd want something particularly flashy -- something on the warmer side for a chill day -- deep blue, perhaps?

The door to the bathroom cracked open, Roger's signal to enter.

The steam was blinding, mixed with the almost overwhelming scent of flowers, as Roger entered. Fitz was fussing with his hair, as usual, despite not being able to see it in the mirror. "You simply must help me out with this," he said.

"Of course, sir," said Roger, taking the comb from him. This was a ritual they performed nearly every night Fitz went out. Even as the years went by and Fitz grew from a young vampire to a seasoned one, he still seemed so irritated at not being able to see himself in the mirror, sometimes requiring excessive reassurance from Roger that he was still handsome.

Tonight, though, his master seemed deep in his own head as Roger ran the comb through his hair, taking some pomade in hand to smooth it back. He pulled the longer hair into a neat tail, the sort of style usually reserved for unsavory sorts, but then, Fitz didn't mind presenting himself as a bit unsavory. Roger's tense shoulders relaxed as faint hypnotic power flowed from his master's proximity, fogging his mind at the same time it increased his desire to help fix Fitz's brooding.

"Is everything all right, sir?"

Fitz seemed startled back into the waking world by the question. "Of course," he said with his fake smile plastered firmly to his face. "Just running through the show in my head. If I'm going to be dragged out of my bed and into the cold this early, it had better be worth it."

"I'm sure it will be, sir. You're looking quite handsome this evening."

"Obviously," he said, lacking the usual cheer that punctuated their banter.

With Fitz's hair squared away, the two then left the bathroom for Roger to assist dressing him. "While the rest of this outfit is acceptable, this bowtie is just not..." Fitz seemed to be fishing around, thinking of what could be wrong with the bowtie, clearly eager to find some minor fault to distract himself from his own worries. "It's blue, isn't it? You can't have blue on a night that's already cold and gloomy, that won't do. It must be red. The color of excitement and passion!"

"I don't know what I was thinking, sir," Roger deadpanned, picking up the blue bowtie that Fitz had tossed aside and fetching one of his half-a-dozen red ones.

Fitz allowed Roger to fit him with the new selection. "That's why you should leave the thinking to me."

"I'm not so sure about that, sir."

That got a genuine smile from his master. "Come now, when has that ever not worked out?" he said. "With this outfit and your expert attention to my hair, I'm sure tonight's show will be an absolute triumph."

"There's not a single doubt in my mind, sir."

As Roger adjusted his master's cummerbund, Fitz leaned in a bit more, in an unsubtle fashion. The undercurrent of tension Roger had felt all night bloomed into something more recognizable: hunger. His master desired his blood, and, as always, Roger felt himself falling into a pleasurable daze, one where all thoughts fled from his mind apart from offering himself to his master.

"I think I'll need to feed from you when I return. You don't mind, do you?" Fitz whispered in his ear.

"No, master," said Roger, shivering involuntarily. "It's my pleasure to serve you."

"And it's my pleasure to feed," he said, grinning with his fangs bared. "Yes, I think that'll be just the thing to lift my spirits. Something to look forward to after the show."

"Yes, sir. I'll also look forward it." He meant that -- he had long since given up being troubled by his desire for vampiric feedings. He'd felt that desire even for his previous master's painful, harsh feedings, and it was far easier to accept Fitz's gentle trance of bliss.

A few minutes later and Roger had wrangled a semi-unwilling vampire into two layers of winter coat and sent him on his way. Sometimes Roger went along with Fitz to the theater, to help with makeup or hair or just for support purposes, but just as often he was left behind to his own devices. 

He didn't mind either way. It was nice to have a few hours to himself. He often spent the bulk of the time painting, something he'd never gotten to do much of even before he was taken by vampires. He wanted to eat breakfast first, though, especially given that his master might be feeding later.

Roger did hope he was. Sometimes he instead chose to feed on his volunteer from the audience, and that was always a bit of a disappointment, denying Roger the opportunity to fulfill his primary purpose in life. But Fitz seemed interested in feeding at home, and if he was going to do that, it would behoove Roger to be well-fed.

Soon enough, a generous portion of ham and eggs was sizzling on the stove. Fitz had made a promise early on that he'd always keep Roger fed, and although he forgot and broke promises all the time, he hadn't broken that one. Unlike his previous master, he never punished Roger with starvation -- a particularly spiteful punishment, since it also seemed to lower the quality of Roger's blood. His previous master did seem to enjoy punishment more than feedings.

When Roger's former master had been destroyed in a duel, Roger had assumed he was going from bad to worse. That feeling had grown stronger when he'd been dragged to a secondhand thrall appraiser and his worth was assessed at far lower than it had been when he'd first been bought. At the time, Roger had been little better than a beaten dog, cringing at every sound, barely daring to speak or think. He'd lost hope for anything better.

And, well, Fitz was far from the savior he'd often imagined during those days. He was still a vampiric master, a dramatic one whose moods changed like the wind. He could still effortlessly control Roger's mind, and he made Roger do all the chores in the house. Roger still wasn't free.

But rather than beatings and torture, Fitz's "punishments" generally amounted to snippy words and extra chores. There was always food, and he was allowed to paint and read and relax. His master might have a terrible habit of tossing out every piece of clothing in his closet when choosing what to wear and then telling Roger to clean it all up, but compared to what life had been like...

He hoped that Fitz came home safe. He'd strongly prefer to not change hands again, even if it meant dragging a protesting vampire out of bed each night for the rest of his life.

Roger had busied himself painting a bird from an illustration in a nature book when he heard the front door creak. "It's goddamn cold out there! Windy, too."

"Welcome home, sir," said Roger, helping his master out of his frigid coats. He was pleased to see Fitz in a better mood than when he'd left. "I take it your show went well?"

"Of course! Didn't you say there wasn't a single doubt in your mind?" he said with a grin as he kicked off his shoes, leaving Roger to line them up neatly in the shoe rack. "The crowd loved it! The spinning box trick is a real winner -- I just need to think of some ways to jazz it up further -- perhaps doing up the box in spangles to really dazzle them..." 

He shook himself out of his train of thought, seeming to remember Roger was there. "All of that applause did have me work up an appetite, though," he said, stepping close and brushing his hand against Roger's. Roger could feel the influence flowing through him, stoking his need for the feeding. "Why don't you go start the fire? That and your blood will provide me with some warmth tonight, I think."

So he was going to feed. Roger tried to keep his face neutral to preserve a scrap of dignity. "Very good, sir."

Roger allowed himself to hum a bit of a jaunty tune as he stacked wood in the fireplace and lit the kindling, using the bellows to raise the fire higher. He could hear his master making a commotion in the bathroom, likely getting out of his fine clothes and washing off the stage makeup. By the time Fitz arrived in the parlor, the fire was crackling merrily.

"Ahhhhh," said Fitz, sprawling out onto the old leather couch and beckoning Roger close. "This is the life, isn't it, Roger?"

"It certainly is, sir."

"Well, I suppose I'm not technically alive. The point still stands."

His master put his hand to Roger's cheek, and Roger sank into the mind-numbing bliss that came from his power, the familiar sense of captivation and contentment. As always, he could feel his master's desire to feed, and as he dropped deeper into a trance, his hands came up to unbutton his shirt and pull his collar away.

"You really are an excellent thrall," said Fitz, and Roger soaked in both the praise and the sense of security that came from pleasing his master. "Now just relax and let me have what I need."

Sharp fangs punctured the old scars that would never heal, and Roger's pliable mind slipped further as his master began to drink. There was nothing but bliss and contentment and hunger and need --

-- and, as always when his master was anxious, the sound of ticking clocks and the undercurrent of a lonely void.

Perhaps the good reception to his show hadn't brightened his mood as much as Roger had thought.

Fitz drank hungrily as if to fill that void with his thrall's blood, and Roger could feel his senses buckling, his vision tunneling and his eyelids growing heavy. His master was overdrinking again. "Sir," Roger managed to say as he fought to stay awake. "Sir -- sir, you're --"

"Oh!" His master mercifully stopped. "Damn it, I'm sorry, Roger. I don't mean to do that, you know I don't."

"I know you don't," Roger parroted in a dazed voice, slumping against his master's shoulder, allowing his eyes to close now that the danger had passed.

Someday, his master was probably going to kill him. He'd drink too much blood, and Roger would fail to stop him in time, collapsing into his master's arms and closing his eyes for the last time.

But tonight was not that night, and Roger was glad of it.

Masterlist

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot @cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

[snapghoul]

If you spin it, then you get to see both sides

More of Bradley and his weird IMF uncle + the daggers.

Note: Decided to separate the Seresin twins au from this just this once. Do not fear the boys will return.

Warnings: none

Song: double life - Pharrell Williams

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Rooster, why is Penny hugging Mav like she didn’t see him yesterday?” Halo asked, leaning around the pillar near the pool and dart board to catch a glimpse of Penny enveloping Mav in a tight embrace.

“Did something happen? Is he okay?” she continued, her tone protective. The other eleven Daggers turned their heads, confusion etched on their faces. Bradley raised an eyebrow, squinting.

No, that wasn’t Maverick. The plain, nondescript jacket was a dead giveaway, starkly different from Mav’s signature brown patch-bombed one. The hair was flatter, less spiky. This wasn’t his godfather—this was Ethan.

“That’s Ethan,” Bradley said, shrugging casually. He had become so accustomed to Ethan’s random appearances that he took pride in distinguishing between the two. “Mav will be here soon; wherever one is, the other usually follows.”

Just then, Mav appeared right beside his brother, and Bradley gestured dramatically, realizing he’d jinxed himself.

The Daggers all turned to Mav, bewilderment in their eyes. “Ethan?” Hangman drawled. “You’re telling me Pops has a twin?”

“Obviously, Bagman,” Harvard shot back with a smirk, earning a playful smack on the arm from Hangman, who just missed him. Laughter erupted around them.

“I thought Mav was an only child,” Payback said, leaning against the pool table next to Coyote. “But they seem pretty close, so I’m ruling out family drama.”

“It’s just him and Ethan. E travels a lot for work, but he’s around more than you’d think,” Bradley explained, tapping his pool cue on the floor as Hangman lined up his shot. “He’s like a ghost—one minute he’s there, the next he’s gone. It’s wild. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve dropped by Mav’s and he’s just… sitting there.”

The group soaked up this new information eagerly. Learning anything about Mav was like candy to them; they relished the opportunity.

“What does he do?” Halo asked softly, and the Daggers scrambled to appear casual as the duo approached.

“I don’t know,” Bradley admitted, shaking his head. To this day, he had no clue what Ethan did.

Like a specter, Ethan materialized by the pool table, smiling, with Mav trailing behind carrying drinks. Ethan noticed the bewildered expressions on the squad’s faces and chuckled. “I see my brother hasn’t introduced me. I’m Ethan.”

Before anyone could respond, Ethan swiped Bradley’s pool cue with a mischievous grin and racked the balls with practiced precision, effectively sabotaging Hangman’s shot. Hangman threw his hands up in frustration, and Ethan smirked.

“You could’ve won the game two moves ago—snooze you lose,” he teased, causing the Daggers to gasp in mock outrage.

“Pops, I don’t like him,” Hangman declared with an exaggerated tone, but laughter bubbled up from everyone, the camaraderie warming the room.

Bonus:

“So, are you a pilot too?” Fanboy asked when he spotted Ethan at Mav’s summer cookout. He hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to him last time.

“Oh no, I was in the Army before I retired. Now I just do government work,” Ethan replied with a smile, feeling he could share more but kept the details to himself. He already had Pete worrying about him; he didn’t need to give them more to think about.

“Though I have flown a helicopter. It’s a lot easier than it looks,” he added, and Fanboy’s eyes lit up.

“So you have your license?”

“No.”

Fanboy blinked, caught off guard by the casual response. He opened and closed his mouth, struggling to formulate a reply. “But you said you flew a helicopter…”

“Yes, once.”

[wrathofrats]

my favourite lesbian !!!!! quick what are you thoughts on aurora playing dress up with the pack's clothes and cumulus teasing her by pulling her closer with her tie ???

YASSSSS MY FAV HUSBAND

I have many as always because god knows I love weird cumulus

The sweatshirt honestly could’ve been a dress on Aurora. It went right above her knees, sleeves bunched all the way up her arms so she could use her hands, the top even sagged to show off her collar bones.

She admired herself in the mirror. Twirling and bending over just to see how much it would ride up along her thighs. The way the garment practically swallowed her made her feel tiny, vulnerable almost. She relished in it, the soft fabric engulfing her frame.

“Playing dress up starlight?” Cumulus’ voice snapped Aurora out of her trance. She jumped, turning around to face the ghoulette who looked almost amused by her performance.

“Found it laying around, didn’t think Swiss would miss it for a couple hours. Besides, I was cold”

Cumulus padded over to her, wrapping her arms around her waist and shoving her face into the side of her neck. Aurora always smelled sweet, like cotton candy or strawberries. Delicious and intoxicating.

“Don’t know if I believe you darling” she whispered against her skin, tucking the hair from her pony tail out of the way to give her a small kiss. Her hands landed on auroras waist, pulling the sweatshirt up to bunch around her hips.

“And why’s that?”

“If you were cold you’d be wearing pants, or at least underwear, dear.” She snickered. Cumulus grabbed at auroras exposed ass, looking in the mirror in front of them as she hiked the fabric up higher to show off her pussy. Pretty and bare, like she expected cumulus to come find her.

She let the hem go to pull Aurora tight against her chest. Hands wandering around her body, reaching to play with her little tits through the sweatshirt. The friction felt mind numbing against her nipples, the roughness combined with how cumulus was pinching and pulling at them left her limp in her arms. Aurora let out a sweet sigh, letting cumulus play with her body.

“Could’ve just taken one of my sweatshirts, mine not good enough for you?” Cumulus teased lightheartedly. Her nose tickled Auroras ear, she could feel the smile in her voice. A hand traveled down and under the garment to brush against her folds. Aurora was already starting to get slick, the teasing and thrill of being caught having her worked up and needy.

“It’s no fun if you’re already offering it” a finger circled her clit, gathering the arousal and using it to push into her. Aurora hummed around cumulus, grinding down slightly in search of more stimulation.

Cumulus kept the sweatshirt slightly lifted just so they could both watch in the mirror as her fingers pumped in and out of her, arousal dripping down her palm and shining in the yellow light of the room. Aurora was always one to get like this easily, even if she played bratty and hard to get.

“Lus- more come on fill me up” Aurora gasped as cumulus curled her fingers up. She smirked at both of them in the reflection, watching over Aurora's shoulder as the smaller ghoulette completely melted into her.

“Can’t wait to see what Swiss does when he finds his sweatshirt reeking of your desperation princess” she cooed, adding another finger “think he will just have to ruin you for himself, make me stretch you out so he can really break you huh?”

“Please lus please fuck” cumulus felt Aurora squeeze around her fingers, trembling in her grasp. There was another gush of liquid that dripped down her hand.

Cumulus dropped the sweatshirt around her waist, wiping her hand on it. “There you go babydoll, made you feel so good didn’t I” she cood, letting more of Auroras slick darken the fabric.

“Gotta return this to him now don’t we” cumulus said as Aurora came down from her high, “put it right on top of his laundry so he finds it as soon as he gets home”

[writingsofanomnivore]

Silent Battles- Futakuchi Kenji x Reader

fic exchange with @dira333

this took me a lot of time. i really wanted to write it sooner but school hasn't been very kind to me. and I just got done with a big chunk of exams. I have one on Friday too but anyway-

warnings; none, a bit angst I guess. but it is a happy ending!

words- 1.7k

Futakuchi Kenji was a man known for many things. He was known for being arrogant, provocative, proud, competitive, and an absolute menace to some of his seniors. But there were also things he wasn't known for, like how he secretly wished for his team’s happiness, how he wanted them to shine, how he strived to make his seniors and teammates proud, and how he found joy in seeing them happy and content, watching them become the Great Wall of Dateko. These were things he kept hidden, unnoticed, unheard of—and that’s exactly how he wanted it.

That brings him to his current situation: ignoring his heart and letting Aone and her be. It makes him want to curse whatever cupid is out there for making him fall for her—the girl who is his teammate’s childhood friend. The girl who doesn’t hesitate to snap back at anyone trying to make Aone feel left out. Always bold, witty, and unafraid to banter with him. He knew something was wrong when he caught himself smiling after she rattled him for picking a fight with a poor boy from another school in junior high.

They were always attached at the hip, eating lunch together during breaks, studying in the library, and waiting for each other after their extracurricular activities. Seeing his friend happy made him happy, which is why he decided to ignore all the feelings trying to sprout. He couldn’t take away the only friend Aone had. For all he knew, the two of them might even be in love, just waiting for the other to confess. That’s why he came up with the perfect plan for his last year of high school: to ignore her. How hard could it be? It’s not like she goes out of her way to seek him out. Sure, she brings him sour candies, but she does that for everyone. She may wait for him after practice with a water bottle, but she does that for Aone too. She might help him with assignments he missed while staring at her during class, but again, she does that for everyone. It doesn’t make him special.

So that’s how he ended up here, pretending he didn’t see the outstretched water bottle after practice, pretending he didn’t hear her call out to him after class ended, and then darting out of the room with his bag in hand.

He thought he was being seamless, like a master tailor sewing a patch so perfectly that no one would notice. Little did he know what was brewing in her mind.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Third year had begun, and it couldn’t have gone more haywire. Your growing crush on your best friend’s teammate hadn’t stopped. In fact, it might have doubled or tripled in size if that was even possible. Not having the chance to see him during the summer, being busy with your own classes, you thought this year you’d finally confess. No more making excuses to do things for him under the guise of doing it for Aone or some other friend. You were determined to wear your shiniest armor and finally take action. So why was it that Futakuchi slipped away the moment third year began? He started going to practice early and leaving late, using the excuse of having more responsibility as the great captain of Dateko. This continued for days, weeks—it’s almost been two months. You tried not to let it affect your mood. After all, it’s not like he liked you anyway. To him, you’re just Aone’s childhood friend, and that’s all you’ll ever be.

At home, you might have been able to fake excuses about why you were so down, but the watchful eyes of Takenobu Aone were not so easily deceived. So, on a regular Thursday at school, you were caught off guard when Aone asked why you’d been so sad since the start of the school year.

“Is everything okay? You seem… different lately,” Aone said, his voice low and concerned as you both sat on a bench during lunch break.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you replied quickly, forcing a smile. “Just stressed about entrance exams.”

Aone’s gaze didn’t waver. “Don’t lie to me. You’re doing well with your exams. There’s something else.”

Caught off guard by his directness, you hesitated. Aone wasn’t one to press, but when he did, it was because he genuinely cared. Sighing, you looked down at your hands, fidgeting with the hem of your skirt.

“It’s just�� I don’t know what I did wrong,” you admitted quietly. “Futakuchi, he’s been avoiding me. I thought we were friends, but now it feels like he’s just trying to get away from me.”

Aone’s expression remained the same, his eyes softening. “It’s difficult to know what’s going on with him,” he said, cracking the most comforting smile he could. “Don’t think too much. He’ll come around.”

You wanted to press on—ask him why Futakuchi had changed so suddenly. But just as you opened your mouth, the bell rang, signaling it was time for class. Yet another lecture to be ignored by your crush. Gathering your things, you headed off, waiting for Aone to catch up, only for him to say he needed to get something from the gymnasium. Not wanting to be late, you nodded and left for class.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And just like that, Futakuchi continued his behavior. It’s been two months, and your crestfallen expression makes him want to jump down a well. But then again, he doesn’t know why you want to even speak to him. What could it be about? Some roadblock between you and Aone? How do you expect him to help you with that? That would be the cruelest plan someone could muster. All in all, he didn’t expect to bump into a solid brick wall of six feet as he headed to class. The same brick wall he was just thinking about. What he didn’t expect was for this brick wall to call his name and pull him into a corner. Is he here for the same thing? Does he want help confessing to you? Is this some sick joke God is playing on him?

What he didn’t expect even more was for Aone to stare at him with the coldest glare possible, only to utter your name. “Y/N.”

After a few awkward seconds, waiting for Aone to continue, Kenji added, “Yeah. What about her?” trying to act nonchalant But Aone, though not the most expressive, could surely tell when someone was trying to beat around the bush.

“Why are you avoiding her?” Aone asked, his face as straight as ever.

“I’m not. What are you talking about?” Futakuchi tried his best to sound casual, but Aone just bowed his head slightly and walked away. What a guy. Knowing Aone, he realized he was in trouble now. If he didn’t talk to you, Aone might just stop listening to him during practice. He's had enough experiences to not repeat the same mistake.

After considerable thinking during his lecture, Futakuchi decided to approach you. Maybe he could make an excuse, saying he never saw you. But wasn’t that just manipulation? Throwing that thought, he finally decided to just go ahead and say hi. What could possibly go wrong? you either never speak again or he goes back to being friends with you and see your and aone's friendship blossom into something more. Both are some pains he has to accept.

So, after practice, he found you sitting under the big tree near the school entrance, flipping through a book. Jogging towards you, he took a deep breath before walking over, trying to act as natural as possible.

“Hey,” he said, his voice sounding so nervous he cannot believe himself. the futakuchi kenji, is nervous?

You looked up, surprised to see him after weeks of being ignored. “Hey,” you replied, waiting for him to continue. But, after some seconds when you knew this was not going anywhere, you added " didn't expect you here"

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Futakuchi rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the right words. “I’ve been… busy, I guess. Captain duties and all that you know.... we've been practicing for the nationals.”

You nodded, something in you wanted to snap at him, taking a deep breath you said “Is that it ?”

Futakuchi winced. He could lie, make up some excuse, but going with his gut he began, “Okay, I have to get this off me,” he could feel his hear rate quicken. “I’ve been avoiding you" your face went blank as if saying really. "But it’s not because of anything you did" he quickly added.

"Then?"

“Because…” He hesitated, it's either now or never, he says in his mind for the hundredth time. This was harder than he thought it would be. “Because I like you, okay? And I thought maybe you and Aone—” He cut himself off, not wanting to finish that thought.

Your eyes widened, processing his words. “You thought Aone and I…?” You couldn't help but laugh.. “Kenji, Aone’s my best friend, practically my brother. I’ve never thought of him that way.”

Futakuchi blinked, like a fish off the water “Wait, really?” Quick, he thinks- time to stop being a loser. the odds may just be in his favour.

“Really,” you confirmed, your cheeks tinting pink. And that was what the sign he needed .

as if in battle, he gathered himself, a different air around him now, but his heart beating as fast as possible, he caught the chance and stood straighter " dd-do-" and he fumbled.

He can happily sink into the ground. but this battle must be fought so again this time-" do you want to go out with me this weekend?"

you could feel your cheeks heat up. But deciding it's too good of a chance to miss- you pulled his hand towards you- standing on your tiptoes- landing a kiss on his cheek which felt so warm- you mumbled a small yes. before you could look up- you were engulfed in a hug. Futakuchi can't let you see the roses blooming on his cheeks just yet. So both of you let out a laugh, standing on the ground as the cold wind blows. But both of you are warm, physically and emotionally.

[jakesuit0]

What Was Missing Review

Finn is revealed to regularly have alone time with the wad of Princess Bubblegum’s hair she gave him in “To Cut a Woman’s Hair”. It’s essentially a PG version of a guy still holding on to their ex’s underwear for personal use. The allegory is pushed forward with Finn checking to make sure he is alone. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t exactly shocking behavior for a thirteen year old boy, but it’s the first big sign that Finn’s crush is getting unhealthy after “Too Young”. It’s time to move on! Unlike “Wizard Battle”, I like the incorporation of Finn’s feelings, despite the arc feeling like there’s nowhere to go after “Too Young”. It’s not the main conflict in the episode, and serves to build to a climax in the season finale.

The Door Lord steals Finn’s gum, Jake’s blanket, and BMO’s controller. It’s hilarious that he only speaks in loud mumbles. He’s supposed to be related to Key-per from “The Enchiridion!”. The Door Lord steals a toy from a candy person and Finn reassures him “I’ll get your kid back, toy!”. The episode wasn’t originally written this way. Adam Muto misspoke when he was pitching the episode and they thought it was funny to keep it like that. Door Lord steals something from Bubblegum and attempts to steal Marceline’s bass axe. With Maja being in possession of Hambo, it makes sense for her bass axe to be her most important item. Finn, Jake, Princess Bubblegum, Marceline, and BMO have to team up to solve the riddle of the door. It’s great getting to see this group of characters together for the first time. It’s the entire main cast minus Ice King, and they get so few opportunities to all be together before Stakes. Their group dynamic is so fun too. The episode is set in Red Rock Pass, which is a really pretty setting to choose for a (mostly) bottle episode. 

Marceline chastises Bubblegum for not executing the door lords, as they kept breaking out of jail. I’m not sure if PB is really above just killing them, considering all the fucked up stuff she’s done in the past. But, killing might be a bridge too far for her. I know she committed robot genocide, but I argue she didn’t see them as sentient beings. Jake decides to pretend to be the jerk in the band. Since Jake doesn’t have a grand emotional arc, this is a funny role to put him in. Marceline starts singing “Just Your Problem”:

-“I’m gonna drink the red from your pretty pink face”. This pretty much gives the game away about PB and Marcy not being platonic. She’s singing about kissing and biting PB. 

-PB calls it “distasteful”, causing Marceline to accuse her of just not liking her. This ties into PB not liking Marceline’s behavior when she got more and more consumed with her princess duties. Marceline became well aware of this by their first mission to the Glass Kingdom (“Oh c’mon, you love it.”). 

-“Sorry I don’t treat you like a goddess. Is that what you want me to do?” She’s calling out PB’s god complex. Marceline assumes Bonnie thinks she’s better than her, like how she sings “you’re self-obsessed and all the rest” in Distant Lands.

-“Sorry I don’t treat you like you’re perfect, like all your little loyal subjects do. Sorry I’m not made of sugar. Am I not sweet enough for you?”. Marceline thinks Bubblegum demands absolute loyalty from everyone as she does with her citizens. She thinks PB would prefer Marceline to be a dum dum juiced moron that never questions her. We don’t know if Marceline is aware of the dum dum juice, but I like to think that she’s partially referring to that. It also relates to Marcy viewing PB as a dictator as she sings in “Woke Up”. She thinks PB wants her to turn down her edginess and be sweeter, like when she wasn’t taking the situation in the Glass Kingdom seriously, something I’m sure wasn’t an isolated incident. 

-I’ll lump together “Is that why you always avoid me?” with the later line “I forgot what landed me on your blacklist.”  Some people question why Marceline wonders this considering her singing “Woke Up” is the obvious answer. I think she’s partially referring to PB’s actions before their breakup. Bubblegum grew more distant as her responsibilities grew, something that confused and hurt Marceline. PB talks about this in “Varmints”. She’s also referring to PB being cold to Marceline for centuries after their breakup. Even when they were around each other in “Power Animal” and “Video Makers”, we don’t see them talking. Bubblegum was very dismissive of Marcy in “Go With Me”. This is partially Marceline’s fault, as she can be really rude and mean to Bonnie, as seen in this episode. 

-“I shouldn’t have to justify what I do.” Marceline doubles down on acting the way she thinks people perceive her. If people think she’s a monster, it's less painful for her to embrace it. This is something she picked up on from thinking she scared her mother away.

-“I shouldn’t have to be the one who makes up with you so why do I want to…” Marceline thinks that since PB is the one who pushed her away, PB is the one who should take the initiative of making things right. There is some truth to this, but as we see in “Obsidian”, they are both more at fault than Marcy is willing to admit. The faces on the door glow brighter and Marceline gets closer to the truth. The truth is she wants to at least be friends with Princess Bubblegum again. That’s the real reason she joined the group here. Reconnecting to PB is something we’ll see her try to do in episodes like “Sky Witch”, “Princess Day”, and “Varmints”. 

The song itself slaps. “Just Your Problem” is super popular, so much so that tons of non-fans know the song. A big reason being that it’s probably the most relatable Adventure Time song ever. A lot of people have friends and lovers that drifted away from them or became downright cold to them due to their differences. Rebecca Sugar even based the song off of her experience with a roommate. Princess Bubblegum’s face during this is also pretty telling. She was definitely having flashbacks to the last time Marceline humiliated her with a song. PB’s face turns to shock when Marceline is on the verge of revealing she wants to make up with her. I don’t blame Bonnie for not realizing this. Marceline’s general nastiness towards her, and of course what she said about her while singing “Woke Up”, would give PB the opposite impression. 

Finn doesn’t fully grasp the tension between PB and Marcy, but is able to diffuse the awkwardness and get everyone (besides Jake) to have fun together. I also like how sweet Marceline is to BMO, gently calling him “baby”. I like PB’s quirky attempt at a science based song, which is more fitting for her than singing her heart out like Marceline and Finn. Her song fails and Marceline uses it to antagonize PB. She fixates on Bonnie’s failures as she feels insecure in her presence. The words “monster trash” are definitely echoing in her mind here. Marceline is still really nasty to PB. A lot of it feels like unwarranted bullying without the context of future episodes, but even with the context, it still feels that way to an extent. Spitting on PB is pretty inexcusable and Bubblegum is totally right to walk away after it. Their conflict boils down to Princess Bubblegum’s ego and Marceline’s insecurity clashing. I also like the detail of Shelby slithering back into Jake’s smashed viola. 

As a final effort, Finn sings “My Best Friends in the World” after realizing the key to the door is the truth:

-“Am I a joke…?” Finn worries that Marceline doesn’t respect Finn, and perhaps only hangs around him because she enjoys messing with him. This is an understandable fear with episodes like “Henchman”. It’s still fundamentally untrue, squashed by the end of “Henchman” and in “Heat Signature”. There is no denying, however, that she loves trolling Finn. She likes messing with everyone, Finn’s young mind just makes him an easier target.

-“...your knight…?” This could be taken to mean Finn wonders if PB only keeps him around, and entertains his advancements, just to use his service to the kingdom. It’s true that Bubblegum employs Finn a lot, and isn’t above manipulating him for her benefit (“The Other Tarts”, “Too Old”, “James”), but she still genuinely enjoys his company whether they are working or just hanging out. He might also just be referring to this positively, as her knight in shining armor.

-“Do you look down on me because I’m younger?” All of Finn’s closest companions are older than him, and it makes sense that this weighs on him. Even Jake, who is often close to Finn’s level and acts as a best friend, also often acts as his parental guardian. This line applies most of all to Bubblegum, given how recent “Too Young” is. The events of that episode are still raw for Finn, and PB’s behavior to him after her age was restored came across as condescending and dismissive. 

-“I just wanted us together and to play as a band. Last night was the most fun I’ve ever had.” Finn loves getting to finally hang out with everyone he loves together and feeling like part of a family.

-“Even liked it when the two of you would get mad at each other.” Finn prefers honesty between friends, and appreciates seeing their more vulnerable side as they are usually more closed off from their true emotions in front of him.

-“You are my best friends in the world. And that’s right, I’m talking about the two of you girls. And you Jake.” With his parents dead, the three of them are by far his closest companions. He’s even grown very close to Marceline in recent times. It’s kinda mean to exclude BMO, who’s right there, but BMO becomes more of a part of Finn’s family over time than he is here. 

-“I’ll forget that I lost a piece of your hair. I’ll remember the pasta that we shared over there”. Very sweet line about how the wad of hair doesn’t really matter, the time he spends with PB and getting to be her friend is what’s meaningful to him. I like how the pasta has a double meaning. He obviously just shared pasta with her, but he also had a pasta dinner with Bubblegum when she gave him the hair. 

Finn’s song is my favorite moment of the series so far, and one of the best scenes ever in the series. I thought “Just Your Problem” was Adventure Time’s best song up to now but it’s then immediately topped. I love everyone participating in the song, especially Marceline singing along with Finn for parts of it. Finn’s song causing even PB and Marcy to harmonize together is great symbolism for Finn helping to bring them back together. Even Jake finally breaks character, he’s too caught up in the moment! Rebecca Sugar drew on her feelings of being a young newcomer when she joined the Adventure Time staff to write this song. Worrying about how your friends see you and if they respect you is another very ubiquitous concern. 

The group realizes that the Door Lord showed them that the real treasure is friendship. It’s very cheesy but the contents of the episode does enough to justify it. It’s cool how well the episode ties two themes into this episode: friendship and honesty. The quick cut from the Door Lord happily seeing they got the message to him being bruised and tied up is hilarious. They get their items back, including the famous rock shirt. It’s not at all PB’s style, going to show how much its pure sentimentality means to Bubblegum. The reveal that PB kept the shirt comes as a shock to Marceline. She realizes that Bonnie doesn’t see her as just her problem. Marceline blushing and PB revealing she wears the shirt all the time as pajamas are heavy hints to their romantic pairing. Their interactions in this episode are very queer-coded, even though they aren’t hitting us over the head with it like they do in season 7 onwards. The episode itself gives enough to figure out the broad strokes of Marceline and Bubblegum having a past and a falling out without giving the details, and it’ll be a long time until they are willing to explore it more at all. It’s revealed that Marceline only joined to hang out with them. Beyond reinforcing the theme of friendship, Marceline and PB now know that the other is interested in reforming a connection again, even if Marceline will have to be the one that ends up instigating it. 

“What Was Missing” is a fan favorite for good reason. The two musical numbers are the biggest draw and they are incredible. Rebecca Sugar using her own personal experiences to write them makes them feel so raw and personal. It’s some of the most direct the series ever is about Marceline and especially Finn’s thoughts and feelings, with them explicitly singing them. It’s refreshing to get some clear cut insight as the show is usually much more guarded. I wouldn’t want the series to always be this direct, but it's nice to have moments like these every once in a while to help provide insight into their other appearances. The episode is essentially a precursor for Steven Universe. You could slot in Steven for Finn, Pearl for Bubblegum, and Amethyst for Marceline quite easily. I also really like PB in this one! Despite “What Was Missing” having not one, but two characters that are in love with Princess Bubblegum, she gets to shine. It’s definitely more Marceline-heavy, but I like PB standing up for herself, getting to see her side of the conflict, and the return of her quirks with her scientific song. PB and Marceline also have pretty great outfits here, and it’s definitely their most iconic looks besides their default outfits. 

Rebecca Sugar has since stated that she wrote PB and Marcy as exes in this episode. She felt their interaction in “Go With Me” read that way. The episode does a great job extrapolating from that brief interaction. According to Rebecca Sugar, she pitched this idea to Adam Muto, who she boarded the episode with, and he approved. They ran this by Pen who also liked it. Cartoon Network forbade the crew from being explicit with it. They still did a good job making it as clear as they could with the restrictions and the fandom picked up on it. Rebecca Sugar wanted to include LGBTQ representation and felt that exploring it through the lens of two exes with a past was the best path to getting it in. Despite it only being subtextual, it was a big deal for 2011. 

This episode stirred up quite the firestorm. It’s possibly not a coincidence that it would take almost two years for PB and Marcy to interact again. The Fredator associated Youtube channel Mathematical! posted recaps after the airing of Adventure Time episodes. After the airing of “What Was Missing”, their recap speculated on the possible romantic pairing between Princess Bubblegum and Marceline, interlaced with overtly romantic drawings of Marceline and Bubblegum from character designer and storyboard revisionist Natasha Allegri. As a result, Fredator fired Mathematical! producer Dan Rickmers, deleted the video, and cancelled the Youtube series. Times were different then, but that’s no excuse for such an overreaction. Fred Seibert offered the following explanation:

“Well, I completely screwed up. There’s been chatter on the internet recently about our latest Adventure Time “Mathematical!” video recap that we created, posted, and removed here at Federator. I figure it’s time to clear up the matter. In trying to get the show’s audience involved we got wrapped up by both fan conjecture and spicy fanart and went a little too far. Neither Cartoon Network nor the Adventure Time crew had anything to do with putting up or taking down our latest re-cap. The episode ”What was Missing” remains a terrific short and will be shown again and again just like any other Adventure Time episode. I let us goof in a staggering way and I’m deeply sorry it’s become such a distraction for so many people.” It’s a really weak reasoning as Mathematical! had always been a fan oriented show and that’s what the entire fandom was talking about. Still, I’d expect this from an executive. What was unexpected were Adam Muto’s comments: 

“If it was just a fan video there would be no problem at all. The problem was that it was made by a production company actively involved with the show. The video took something that was a possible subtext and declared it, in effect, text and made it seem like the production was actively seeking out input on plot development. That's all there is to it.” Considering Sugar said that Adam Muto agreed with that interpretation, it would have been for the best if he just stayed out of the situation. That’s what Pen Ward did ("It’s hard to comment on that, because there were so many extreme positions taken on it all over the Internet, and it happened so quickly. I don’t really want to comment on it because of that, because there were so many extreme sides taken. It was a big hullaballoo.")

Now that we know Bubbline was in fact the crew’s intention, and it’s since been explicitly canonized, the situation is just even dumber. Dan Rickmer is definitely owed an apology. But what’s really important is the series no longer having to keep their relationship a big secret.

Grade: A+

[ju-vondy]

Does anyone want Jason content? New Chapter is Out!

I almost had a heart attack watching these two interact WTF

(I don't know how others authors mind work but I just stand there next to them lika a ghost and observe they act/speak/do their things. Most of time I get like "WTF will I really have to write this?" and then "This is so cringe. But ok" and then "Are they REALLY having that conversation right now?" plus "Come on don't be such and idio-" and "Did she/he really say THAT?" and "CAN'T YOU JUST SHUT UP AND KISS YOU TWO IDIOTS???" anyway...)

I'll put some excerpts below that summarize my fav. parts:

[...] The dark-haired man was impeccable as always, dressed in an outfit that exuded elegance and power. He wore a black silk shirt, with the top buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of his toned chest. [...] Over it, he had a slim-fit black blazer, adding a touch of sophistication to the look. His black tailored pants fell perfectly, emphasizing his long legs. On his feet, Jason wore polished black leather shoes, completing the ensemble with a simple silver bracelet on his left wrist and a luxury watch on his right. The undone buttons, along with his slightly tousled hair, hinted at some fun he had already been having that night. The entire outfit not only highlighted his imposing figure but also emanated an aura of authority and mystery, making it impossible to ignore him in the crowd.

Candy felt a knot form in her stomach at the sight of him, a mix of anger, discomfort, and longing bubbling inside her.

“What’s wrong, Candy?” Elenda nudged her. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Elenda followed the direction where Candy’s eyes were fixed and then understood. The blonde widened her eyes slightly. “Oh. He is here,” [...]

[.........]

On the other side of the club, the CEO of Goldreamz was completely mesmerized by the sight of Candy. His focus was entirely on the red lipstick adorning her lips, highlighting her beauty in a hypnotic way. He felt incapable of looking away, his mind flooded with dark and unpleasant thoughts.

The women around him chatted and laughed while he could only muster fake laughs and empty responses. The brunette woman began kissing his neck. Jason tilted his head to the side, wondering if it was the whiskey making him wish it was Candy the one there in his lap. 

[.....] [....] Candy was now standing in line at the bar, waiting to order a drink. When one of the barmen came closer to take her order she wanted to jump in happiness, but that feeling was rapidly shot down when the barman told she they were having problems because the team was not complete for that night, but he would try to be as quick as possible.

Candy sighed. "Right, no problem. It can't get any worse, can it?" she laughed as she approached the bar stools to take a seat.

And of course Jason appeared beside her as soon as she sat on the barstool to wait for her drink to be done. Candy intertwined her fingers, displaying a determined expression as she kept looked forward, ignoring Jason, who watched her with a challenging smile. “Celebrating your freedom, Miss Beaumont?” he asked and then and then took a small sip of his whiskey.

She didn’t matter to look at him to answer: “You bet.” Her voice sounded completely bored as she regretted asking if things could get any worse.

[...] [...] [...] [...]

“Then why not accept my job offer? I’m sure you’d fit perfectly at Goldreamz,” Jason threw out the challenge, maintaining his steady gaze.

Candy raised an eyebrow, maintaining her composure in the face of his provocation. “I’m fine, thanks. Devenementiel is where I belong,” she replied, her voice firm and resolute.  Candy tilted her head to the side and shrugged as she spoke, just to provoke: “And I didn’t think Goldreamz’s building is all that great. Besides, I do not have such a friendly relationship with it's CEO, should I remind you?”

The bartender finally returned with Candy's drink and she made a sign indicating she wanted another one  as she hurried to drink what she just ordered.

Jason took another sip of his whiskey and shook his head, as if disapproving her response. “Don’t you think you’re underestimating yourself? You’re a talent wasted at Devenementiel. With your skills, you could go much further at Goldreamz,” he insisted, his voice laden with conviction.

Candy crossed her arms, standing firm in her position. Jason took a deep breath in response to her firmness. Then he shrugged, an air of indifference taking over his facial expression before he spoke again:“I don’t care about our so-called not friendly relationship, as long as you deliver the results I want. Personal feelings are secondary to professional excellence. And you, Candy, are nothing short of excellent.”

[...] [...] [...]

Jason frowned, not satisfied with her response. “That’s what you want to believe, isn’t it? But deep down, you know you deserve more. And I can give you that,” he almost purred the last part, a clear attempt to persuade her.

Candy took a deep breath, resisting Jason’s pressure. “Why are you so obsessed with me?” she questioned, her piercing gaze meeting his. She couldn’t help but drink half of her drink at a time.

Jason let out a laugh, seeming intrigued either by her behavior and by her question. "Because I’ve always loved a good challenge. And right now, you are the only thing that truly challenges me. And that intrigues me," he said with his eyes fixed on hers. "More than I’d like to admit."

Candy shook her head, as if finding it all somewhat ridiculous. ‘Thing’, she growled while she repeated the word inside of her thoughts. ‘I’m not a thing, you fucking bastard!’

Candy was also competitive. She had always loved challenges since childhood. But not in her love life. Because once the competition was over... The person’s interest would end too. And who would piece her heart back together when that happened?

"Well, maybe you should find something more interesting to occupy yourself with and forget I exist," she suggested, her voice laced with sarcasm.

Jason raised an eyebrow at her, thinking: And you think I haven’t tried? He hid his expression with a practiced ease and merely shrugged, maintaining his confident demeanor.

"Maybe. But in the meantime, I'm quite content keeping myself busy annoying you," the man finally retorted, his suggestive smile revealing his barely contained desire. "Just like you seem quite happy batting your pretty green eyes at me and treating me however you want."

[...] [...]

The bartender finally returned with Candy's second drink. She grabbed the glass quickly and took a good sip as she slid off the chair. "You know what? One day, you’re going to get tired of me, Jason. " Candy said with an ironic smile, playfully tugging at his tie with her free hand. "And I’ll set off fireworks when that day comes. "

"You know that…" Jason caught her hand, stopping her from further messing with his tie. "Saying this just tempts me to prove to you that I’ll never get tired of you, don’t you?'"

The redheaded swallowed, his touch seeming to send shivers down her hoke body. But she didn’t back off and  lifted her chin in defiance, choosing to lie blatantly: "And you know I don’t fall for your bullshit, don’t you? "

"Stop lying to yourself, pretty face." Jason smirked.

"Go find someone else to bother, you jerk. " Candy rolled her eyes, finally freeding herself from his grasp and then she said: [...]

~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

That's all for today! Please if you do like them make sure to go and read the full story and leave some comments to make this author happy and motivated <3

I love my child (Actually Beemoov and Chino's lmao) and watching them doing their will drives me crazy sometimes. Really, I have no control I just watch and write PLEASE DON'T BE MAD LOL

Of course I have the plots and everything planned BTW! The thing is that in the end of the day they do the scene. I have the plots and they're guiding me in their own way to it and I'm loving to write about them OMG.

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 5.1 - how soon is now?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (homophobia, angst, language, sexual content)

Word Count: 2700

☾

I am the son And the heir Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar I am the son and heir Of nothing in particular

☾

December 1983 - junior year

Stepping off of the school bus with Robin close behind you, you immediately began scanning the Hawkins High parking lot for Eddie and his beat up van.

And there he was.

Leaning casually against the side of his van, one leg propped up on the tire. It was hard to miss the unusual creature that called himself Eddie Munson.

You tugged on Robin's backpack strap. "See you later, yeah? Cover for me with Mom and Dad if I'm not back by dinner," thinking for a moment, you laughed. "Actually, maybe consider calling Hopper if I mysteriously disappear after this."

Robin chuckled, "He does have a legitimate kidnapper's van. But hey, maybe he'll try to lure you in with free candy or puppies."

Sticking out her pinky finger to you, your sister hooked it around yours before saying goodbye.

Normally, you would exit the school bus each morning and look around for Nancy, or maybe Chrissy Cunningham, who you were friends with briefly in middle school. You used to look for Barb, too, with her glowing red hair and kind smile. 

You assumed Nancy was with Steve Harrington and their group. Lately, the popular crowd had been irking you, making the base of your skull ache with apprehension. The idea of them not being quality friends and judging you behind your back made you think of your parents. 

You did a lot of thinking in your spare time - about your family, school, stuff like that. You were naturally an overthinker. That's why you picked at your fingers so much.

Most of your thoughts that week were more focused on your social life, though, including the crazy-haired boy that stumbled into your line of attention by simply giving you a tattoo and being genuine.

You wanted that for yourself. You wanted to feel comfortable in your own skin. You wanted Robin to feel comfortable in her own skin, too. How long had they been conforming to the mold your parents put them in, for fear of chastisement? Or, in Robin's case, conversion therapy.

Shaking your head and vowing to start a new day, you meandered over to Eddie. You wondered if he would ever not look slightly shocked when you talked to him in public.

"Good morning, sunshine. To what do I owe the pleasure?" 

He sipped on a paper cup of what looked like black coffee, eyeing you through the steam that was coming off the hot liquid. You tried not to stare at his lips as he licked them.

"Wanna ditch school with me today?" you said quickly.

☾

You shut your mouth How can you say I go about things the wrong way?

☾

Ten minutes into driving and you were already bickering with each other. 

Eddie couldn't keep his mouth shut. And you couldn't stop your fiery temper from taking the bait.

"...all I'm saying is, I don't understand why you're friends with those jocks."

You huffed for what felt like the millionth time, looking out the window of his van. "And I told you already, I'm not really friends with them. Nancy, yeah, but not the guys."

"And why not?"

Eyes wide, you snapped a little. "You just asked me why I'm friends with them. Now you're asking me why I'm not?"

The grin on Eddie's face was contagious, apparently, almost making you smile back. His outrageous, carefree attitude reminded you of why you wanted to skip school with him to begin with.

"Fine, fine. New question."

"Great," you replied with heavy sarcasm.

"What about me?" Eddie kept his eyes on the road, but glanced your way for a split second. "Why the hell are we suddenly hanging out with each other?"

"Because I asked you to ditch school with me today," you replied simply. 

"Thanks, Captain Obvious, but you know what I meant."

The girl in his passenger seat thought for a minute or two, trying to find the right words. You knew he deserved some kind of explanation. Especially after kissing him out of nowhere at the party. Hell, he probably thought you were a typical popular kid playing a prank on him.

You picked absentmindedly at the stray fibers sticking out of the woven seat cover. 

"I dunno, I feel like I can trust you, in a way. Like you're not going to run off and tell the whole school all the juicy details."

"I don't kiss and tell, Buckley."

You waved in his direction. "Exactly. Thanks for not telling anyone about the tattoo, either."

Eddie seemed unusually serious for a moment. "No problem."

"You know, I'm sure it would take less than a day for Carol Perkins to spread rumors about me if she had the right ammo for it. She's always had it out for me. And I never did shit to her!"

The boy beside you chuckled. "It's because you're prettier than her. And a lot less annoying," he paused before adding one last comment. "Not to mention her boyfriend Tommy drools over you every chance he gets."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. You never noticed?"

"Well… no. He's a douchebag."

The van was at a stoplight in the middle of downtown. Though the weather was bitterly cold, you could still see shoppers walking along the storefronts.

"So, I've recently come into some money," Eddie began. "Ten whole dollars to be exact. What do you think about grabbing some hot chocolate?"

The corners of your lips lifted into a smile. "Sure."

He rounded the corner, pulling up to the nearly empty small diner. 

Over two cups of hot chocolate, with extra whipped cream for you, the two teenagers chatted happily. 

It felt natural for you. For the first time since you could remember, you felt comfortable. Your sharp edges softened. The wall you had built up to shield your heart was still standing strong, but there was a tiny window on it that you allowed Eddie Munson to peer through.

You learned about the love he had for his guitar, the dreams he had for his future in the music business. You learned, sadly, that he didn't get along with his dad and that his mother left when Eddie was just a kid.

And most importantly, he made you laugh. Usually, Robin was the only one who could do that. But the difference between Eddie and Robin was that you had the natural urge to protect your little sister. You didn't burden Robin with any more stress than she already had to deal with. 

With Eddie, you looked at him as an equal, and maybe you didn't have to hide your deep, dark thoughts. 

A few hours later, you both made your way back to Eddie's van.

"You know, I've never driven a car before."

The leather-clad boy stopped dead in his tracks, one pale hand resting on the hood of the van.

"Come again?"

"I can't drive. No one's ever taught me," you tugged on the passenger side door handle. "Pick your jaw up off the floor and unlock the van! I'm freezing, dingus."

Finally inside with the heat blasting through the old vents, Eddie turned to you as you rubbed your hands together furiously. 

"Well, there's only one thing left to do now."

For a second, seeing the look on his mischievous face, you were scared that he was going to kiss you. Well, scared was the wrong word. 

You definitely wanted to kiss him again. A part of you wanted to re-do the first kiss. It shouldn't have been a quick peck on the lips in the dark, only for you to run away afterwards. You figured it was a necessity to get the first kiss over with, though. Now, you wanted another one, but maybe with a bit more... romance? 

Ugh, you thought inwardly. Romantic wasn't a word to describe you or Eddie fucking Munson.

But he didn't kiss you. He reached a calloused finger towards you and booped you on the nose like a little kid.

"I'm gonna teach you how to drive, Buckley."

☾

I am human and I need to be loved Just like everybody else does

☾

"Slow down! Pump the brakes."

"I'm trying!"

"The hell you're not!"

"Stop being an ass! We're fine."

Eddie spoke deliberately, face calm. "Put your foot on the brakes before you kill the both of us."

He was just giving you shit, because in reality, you were just fine. He took you to a large abandoned factory that had an expansive parking lot to practice driving in. There was nothing even slightly close for you to crash into.

If Eddie was being totally honest, the sight of a woman, specifically you, behind the wheel of his beloved van was enough to drive him wild. After spending nearly an entire day with the spunky Buckley girl, his spank bank was overflowing.

He never even let Gareth or any of his friends drive the van. Besides his guitar, it was his most prized possession.

He couldn't possibly pass up the opportunity to teach you how to drive. It was like taking someone’s virginity - it can only be done to a person once. Eddie felt honored to be the first to teach you, even if he never ended up being any other firsts for you. But he had to slap those thoughts into oblivion as his jeans suddenly felt tight, causing him to sigh and fog up the window beside him.

What better than a day of hooky, hot chocolate, and reckless driving?

After a while of cruising at an insane speed of five miles per hour, you seemed to get more comfortable with pressing gently on the gas pedal and then alternating to the brakes. You were pretty good with the steering but your lead foot needed Jesus.

You slowed to a complete stop, shifting into park. "See? I told you we were fine."

"Hey, I just gotta look out for my precious… Brenda here," Eddie replied, rubbing his hand on the sun-bleached dashboard.

You stared at the boy, a smile tickling your lips. "Did you just make up that name?"

He tried to keep a straight face, but busted out laughing. "Yeah, I don't know. It was the first one I could think of. The van doesn't really have a name."

Eddie couldn't remember the last time he was in such a good mood. 

"Well, she has a name now. Brenda." 

You looked around, both of your hands still on the wheel. Your wandering eyes inspected the radio, then drifted towards Eddie. The look in your eyes was mysterious to him.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

You chewed on your lip, staring out the window towards the decrepit factory in front of you. "Nothing, really. Just a lot of firsts for me lately."

A knot formed in his stomach as your words mirrored his earlier thoughts. Curiosity taking hold of him, he couldn’t help but pry. "Like…?"

You had a neurotic habit of picking at things when you tried to explain serious business. He watched patiently as you scratched at the peeling paint on the driver's side door.

"Driving, obviously. Skipping school. That was kinda my first… kiss the other day, too."

If you were ever planning to tell him this information without him asking, Eddie would never know. But he was shocked. He let out a quick, unintentional laugh. He didn't mean for it to sound rude... but the words were already spilling out.

"You're fucking with me, right?"

He sounded very rude.

You looked suddenly defensive. "Yes, Eddie, I'm lying to your face." Your voice dripped with sarcasm and your eyes turned cold.

"Back it up, sunshine. I'm not making fun of you," he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "But, like, why? Why me? If it's 'cause you were drinking, I totally understand if it was a mistak-"

"No," you interrupted firmly, "Not a mistake." And then you went silent.

Looking again at the clock on the radio, you unbuckled your seatbelt and climbed out. 

"I've got to get home soon. I don't want my parents to know I ditched."

"Won't the school call them since you didn't show up?"

"Probably, but they've been at work all day. They don't usually get home until after my sister and I get off the bus."

Trading seats with you in the van, Eddie followed your directions and drove you home. He felt a little insecure at the sight of your nice, perfectly maintained middle class home. He worried that you would have a conniption fit at the sight of the house he shared with his father.

"Thanks for everything today, Eddie Munson."

He stared at you, wondering what was going through your mind. But instead of inquiring, he let you go. You waved a quick goodbye at the brown-eyed boy before disappearing into the house.

☾

I am the son And the heir Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar I am the son and heir Of nothing in particular

☾

"Bless us, oh Lord, and these gifts which we are about to receive from your bounty. Through Christ our Lord we pray, Amen."

Dinnertime in the Buckley household was underway. From what you could tell, your parents had no clue that you skipped school that day. Shoveling mashed potatoes onto her plate, your mother looked at you and Robin.

"So, girls, tell us about your day."

You both exchanged identical looks before your parents could notice something was off. The eldest Buckley daughter responded with haste.

"My day was good. Not much homework with winter break coming up."

Your mother smiled at you. "I'm so excited for Father Humphrey's service on Christmas Eve. Aren't you, Richard?"

Grumbling something about being up late on a holiday, her father shrugged. "How about you, Robin? Did anything interesting happen at school today?"

You could see the internal battle in Robin's head, trying to think of a proper thing to say. 

"Oh, yeah. I was selected to do a new song in band. So I practiced that a lot today."

Melissa Buckley giggled. "That's great news, Robin. A solo? You're so talented, sweetie."

"No, not a solo. More of a… duet."

"And who is the lucky boy, dear?"

You knew that the duet was with a girl, which is the main reason why Robin was so excited about it to begin with. But Robin knew the protocol.

"Uh, Kevin… Kevin Brown." Totally made up name.

Your father finally spoke, his mouth full of food. "See, Y/N, why aren't you more like your sister? If you keep avoiding boys, the whole town is going to think you're one of those… homosexuals."

"Richard!" your mother scolded, straightening up in her chair.

"What? You know I'm right. The girl is seventeen. Prom is coming up. I've never heard a single boy's name come out of her mouth. She spends too much time with that Wheeler girl, and you know they're a bunch of sinners."

Resisting the urge to flip the entire fucking table, you remained stone-faced as you responded. You could feel Robin kicking your leg underneath the table.

"Actually, father, I have plans with a boy this week."

He snorted. "Is that so?"

You politely dabbed your mouth with the expensive cotton napkin, face red with silent anger, then stood up from your chair.

"Yes, and he agreed to teach me how to drive. So maybe I can get my license in the spring."

Your mother set down her silverware. "Darling, is that really necessary? What's this boy's name?"

"Eddie Munson."

Slam.

Richard Buckley pounded a fist on the table, then pointed at you. "I forbid this. You know what kind of reputation that family has. His father is a drunk and a heathen."

"Please…" Robin pulled on the edge of your shirt. Not worth it, she mouthed at you.

You looked your father directly into his eyes, the color so much like your own. But he didn't back down.

"I forbid this, Y/N," he repeated coolly. "If I see you with that Munson boy, you'll be spending your entire senior year in a private school, where you can focus on your studies and repent."

☾

When you say it's gonna happen now When exactly do you mean? See I've already waited too long And all my hope is gone

☾

(song lyrics credit: "How Soon Is Now?" by The Smiths)

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[heartfullofleeches]

i've missed the gallery, so here's a question. how would the gallery gang be with a nightguard/frequent visitor reader who's an aspiring artist? i've seen people talk about going to actual galleries for inspo or just sketching the paintings, and was wondering if the art pieces would be honored to be models or something. i dunno man this is my first ask im not sure how this stuff works lol

(I've done this as individual hcs - hope you don't mind!)

The Scavenger

"Draw, please..." "You want me to draw a candy wrapper?" "Draw."

If you want inspiration, Scavenger has got you covered. They'll pull out their finest stole goods for your seeing eyes alone - necklaces, vintage toys - and pretty much anything that catches their eye or isn't nailed to a wall. Most nights they just hold up a pocket mirror and tell you to draw what you see, because it's the best thing in the gallery. If you give them your sketches, don't be surprised if they just shove them in their mouth and return to their painting without another word. Something this precious must be kept on their person at all times.

The Painter

Gasp. A future master in their presence? Well, the only correct course of action is for two geniuses to put their heads together, and create gorgeous works of art together that will bring tears to the eyes of any manner of creature. If you are a painter like them, they create a palette for you out of their own flesh and blood. Hm, as perfect as their colors are - something feels missing. As, yes. Red. That other guard has lots, and is being selfish by hogging it all. Not to worry, dear - your muse is on the case! Sir, sir! Stop running - your sacrifice is needed for greatness!

The Lady in Red

How charming.... Will you sketch her something to put on the walls of her cabin while you are away? She'll let you go for the evening if you do. Leaving old sketches around when there are others on site will also secure their safety as she'll drop everything to have a piece of you. Draw a picture of her and she'll be the wailing ghost of the eve.

The Faceless Angel

Monitors your location and makes sure nothing disturbs you. If you ask them to sit down they will start to hum to fill the silence, stopping if you look their way. Even if you ask to sketch them, the angel is surprised when you show them the finished work. Ah, they've gone and ruined it with their tears. If they are allowed to be greedy, could you draw what you imagine their face to look like?

RoseBud

It's only logical a gallery would attract an artist. Rosebud points out the flowers that are in this season for you to warm up, and tells you to come when you're ready to draw the finishing piece. Their babes are extra yippy tonight, but they are just as excited as them and unable to contain it like their greater half. Give it directly to Rose or they will eat it, but unlike the Scavenger they feel bad and start to cry. Rosebud has some artistic skills of their own and will ask to draw you some nights

Soleil

You want to draw them? Oh, but their gears haven't been polished in ages - their casing could use a shine as well. Don't even get them started on their dials. Give them a few nights to spruce themselves up and they'll be the perfect model for you to sketch and adore

Anri

You draw? How cool! They'd love to draw with you, but they don't have the same talent as you. Would you still mind if they doodled a bit in your book anyway? Maybe when you get off work you can hit up a coffee shop and give them a few pointers.... Oh.

Julian

Outright steals your notebook and tells you to give up before you get ahead. Realizes he's doing the same as his parents and gets it back... with a few sketches thrown in the back. They're all of you in different parts of the gallery doing your job... Except for one. Why did he draw you sleeping? And why does he know the color of your bedsheets

The Director

How fun! The gallery is always open to new donations. He'd love if you drew him, or one of the many stories he has to tell. He has a perfect tale about a painter who got lost in the woods and tricked by a power beyond their understanding. Why won't you come up to his floor and let him watch you work your magic as he tells it to you? Kick back and relax. Stress is the last thing that should be on an creative's mind. Get comfortable...stay as long as you want.