#i suck at starting conversations whoops

[bbina]

alone together ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 . . . stay

── taking comfort in the thought that you are together in aloneness through late night talks, heartfelt confessions, and a genuine connection. with your shared experience of recent heartbreaks, you wonder if getting together would be all worth it. in which you find solace in each other's company, that you are alone together.

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꩜ notes .ᐟ whooping 4.2k !! i really like this chapter to celebrate forty fucking chapters . i hope everyone enjoys!!!

꩜ taglist .ᐟ @onlywonb @rosesfortaro @starwonb1n @wonychu @totheseok @dolloie @hyunjinsnumberonefun @binluvsu @onlyhyunjin @annswwa @wonbinsvlle @hakkkuu @ilovejungwonandhaechan @artstaeh @lecheugo @odxrilove @bunni @saranghoeforanton @nujeskz @nakam00t @kyusqult @nctsshoes2 @revehosh @s9nwoo @daegale @palchokitty @dutifullyannoyingfox @oshakyao @koryutte @b-riize @meowbini @peterm4rker @winuvs @i03jae @rsatoru @enhacolor @dalliesque @sweetiejaeyun @dearestjake @cupidslovearrows @sasfransisco @kkumistars @sngj08 @taroddori @nshmurarki @ennycutie @sa3ha @koeuh @astro-doll-the-star @amouriu

wonbin hates the club

don't get him wrong, he likes the concept of having a nightlife and all that but something about clubbing just irks him one way or another. maybe it's because of that one horrible experience he had when he got dragged into going clubbing thanks to shotaro, after receiving the news that he, wonbin, got ghosted once again, but in all honesty who really knows

wonbin hates the feeling of bodies pressing against each other in a tight space. he hates the feeling of not hearing people properly over the loud music on those bass boosted speakers, he hates that you can't even hold a decent conversation at the club. he hates getting drinks spilled all over him when people can't walk due to the amount of people dancing around him

he just hates it

but here he was, in the club where you shared your location, at god knows what time, looking for you

wonbin doesn't know why he felt the need to do all this. he could've easily asked seunghan instead to come get your ass when you called him but nope. he got up from the comfort of his warm bed in his cold room, threw on a jacket and went straight to you. ignoring shotaro’s curious stare when he walked passed him in the living room in a hurry

on the way to the club, he can't help but think about how your conversation went on the phone. you called him out of the blue amidst your drunk updates, talking about how some of giselle's other guy friends came and ordered even more drinks and how you had a blast for the first time in a long time

"can you pick me up i want to go home" you whine through the phone. there were some ruckus in the background and wonbin can only make out some words such as "another shot", "let's dance"

wonbin removes the phone from his ear and stares at the screen, making sure that it was actually you who was calling and not some random person with wide eyes

was this just some drunk call or were you actually dead serious?

"wonbin" you drag out his name, voice going an octave higher than normal. "come get me" you demand, slurring your words

wonbin snaps back to reality when he realizes that you were in fact, dead serious

"stay where you are. i'm on my way"

wonbin sucks in a deep breath when he scans the place, looking around, trying to look for you amidst the crowds. he sighs in relief when he finally spots you

wonbin makes his way through the sea of people as he approaches the lounge area where he finds you slumped against the plush couch while some of your friends were trying to take care of you by making you sit up properly. wonbin couldn't help but laugh a little when he watches you swat your friend's hand away cause you were starting to doze off

wonbin approaches your table and taps your friend on their shoulder, it was karina

"oh my!" karina reacts, a hand flying to her mouth. she didn't expect that you'd call wonbin out of all people to come pick you up. she expected that you called seunghan

wonbin sheepishly smiles and throws a peace sign before he motions his hand towards you

"i'm here to pick y/n up? she called me" he says, unsure of what to say really. in wonbin's defense, what else was there to say?

karina nods and moves out of the way so wonbin could come and haul your ass out of the club

"she had way too much to drink but she had fun so" karina notes, watching the way wonbin was lightly tapping your shoulder to wake you up

you click your tongue in annoyance when you feel someone tapping you awake again. you peek an eye open but your vision was blurry

"y/n wake up. i'm here. let's go" the voice you know all too well speaks

you don't know if it was the alcohol running in your system but you know that voice anywhere. your eyes flutter open and the first thing you see was a guy's face

it was wonbin

"wonbin?" you squint your eyes, trying to sit properly but your head was spinning that it was hard to do. your head feels weighted that you feel your head falling back but a hand stops it from doing so

"yeah it's me" wonbin affirms, holding your head from falling back before he fixes your position so you'd lean back properly on the cushions behind you

when you realize it was wonbin, your face lights up. you didn’t expect that he’d actually come get you

"you actually came" you giggled, clearly in a drunken state

"well, you called" wonbin smiles lazily, he knows you don't know what you're saying right now. he then takes a mental note of your current state and assesses the situation. first of all you were drunk out of your fucking ass to even handle yourself, second you were wearing something that would make it hard for him to move you properly

suddenly there were loud cheers coming to the table. wonbin looks around and sees giselle, the birthday celebrant, and some other people he doesn't know coming to the table

giselle sees him and her eyes almost pop out of her sockets

"holy shit is that wonbin?" she shrills, looking at karina for confirmation who nods her head yes and covers the side of her mouth to say something to giselle

wonbin smiles awkwardly at the birthday celebrant and even greeted her

"happy birthday by the way" wonbin greets, before he diverts his attention back to you who's suddenly wide awake

"thank you! here take a shot!" giselle chirps, pouring some liquor into the little shot glass she's been carrying around the club, handing it to people

wonbin was about to refuse but suddenly you stood up and grabbed the shot glass from giselle

"i'll take it!" you cheer in delight until wonbin manages to stop you from drinking it by prying the shot glass off your hands

"no you won't. you're drunk already" he lightly scolds you before taking the shot himself. wonbin grimaces a little at the taste. he hands the shot glass back to giselle, who was seemingly smiling widely at the sight in front of her

her eyes dart between you and wonbin before she ushers herself out of the conversation, dragging whoever was beside her to parade around the club again. the victims being jaemin, jeno and karina

you plop down back on the seats, pouting while crossing your arms, mumbling about how wonbin didn't let you drink

wonbin sits next to you as he watches you look upset beside him. you weren't even looking at him. he couldn't tell if he should laugh cause you clearly won’t remember all this the next day and the fact that he might have another thing to hold over your head again (last time it was the drunk call)

"let's go home now?" wonbin asks softly, leaning his head a bit closer to you, who only scoffs in response

"nuh uh" you roll your eyes

wonbin sits back in surprise. did you really just say nuh uh?

"what do you mean "nuh uh"?" wonbin quotes, "i thought you called me here cause you wanted to go home?" wonbin bites back a laugh. talking to drunk you in person almost sounds like talking to a child

"you didn't let me drink" you huffed, whining a little, finally turning around to look at him in the eye

wonbin couldn't help but laugh at the look on your face. he couldn’t believe that you actually got upset that he didn't let you take a shot. like a kid who just got denied off of candy with the way your lower lip was jutted out with your pout

"when we get you home, you could have all the shots you want. how about that?" wonbin suggests, tucking some hair away from your face. he was trying to fool you into heading home cause god forbid how much longer can he stand being in the club. he already took a sacrificial shot for you so the least you could do is to cooperate with him so two could go home even if it meant into fooling you into doing it

he sees the way you suddenly perk up at the sound of his bargain. he smiles in triumph when he watches you nod your head excitedly

"do you mean it?" you ask with your eyes glistening with anticipation

wonbin smiles and nods. "all the drinks you want. on me"

"okay!" you chirp, "so when are we going?"

wonbin checks the time on his phone before ordering an uber to come get you guys at the club

"we can leave now if you want" wonbin says, tucking his phone in the pocket of his jeans before looking back at you who's now leaned back on the cushions again

"let's just tell karina and giselle we're leaving" you yawned, feeling drowsly all of a sudden

wonbin nods, standing up from the couch. he stretches his limbs before holding his hand out for you to take. you gladly accept his hand as he helps you stand and stabilize yourself by putting his hand on the small of your back before scurrying out of the table with you in tow

you were walking around the dance floor looking for karina or giselle to bid them goodbye. wonbin sees karina talking to someone by the bar. he tugs your hand and points over to the direction where karina was. you nod your head as you two walk over to her

"rina!" you yelled over the music. karina stops talking to the person in front of her which was jeno, as she looks around for the person who called out her name. she then sees you and wonbin making your way towards her

"we're leaving. just wanted to let you know. if you see gigi tell her i went home and thank you for tonight" you ramble, hoping your voice was louder than the music. karina nods her head yes and tells the two of you to make it home safe and to text her if you've arrived

karina then bids you two farewell before she makes her way back to jeno, who was also waving goodbye at the two of you

with that, you and wonbin head out of the club, hand in hand

you two were now outside, waiting for his uber ride that he ordered a few moments ago. the air was cold and you weren’t exactly dressed according to the weather. you stood next to wonbin with your arms crossed to keep yourself warm while you two waited. just not too long ago you were feeling a little hot inside the cramped building but now that you were outside, you cursed yourself for only bringing a light cardigan

not only you were cold but you were slowly feeling like shit. you can feel your hair was sticking on your face, the way your heels were slowly killing you, almost everything was crashing down on you in this instant

wonbin watches the little car icon that was still on the way to where you guys were waiting in when he notices you shivering in his peripheral vision

without hesitation, he removes his jacket and drapes it on your shivering shoulders

before you could even say anything, the uber driver arrives. wonbin opens the car door and motions you to get in first. he makes sure that you don't bump your head against the car by putting his hand just above your head before he slides in next to you

"you good?" he asks, making sure you were okay

instead of answering him, you nod your head drowsily. the warmth of wearing his jacket making you sleepier by the minute. you can feel your eyelids grow heavier as you can barely make out the conversation between the uber driver and wonbin

the next thing you know you were out like a light next to wonbin

wonbin was busy having a conversation with the uber driver when he suddenly hears light snores coming from you. he turns his head to the side and there he sees the sight of you sleeping soundly wearing his jacket

he fights back a smile when he sees how snug you look wearing his jacket that was obviously bigger on you. wonbin then adjusts your head that you were now laying on his lap and not against the window

there's a sense of solace that he feels whenever he's with you. so much that he can't even directly describe what it actually feels but he knows what it is when he's with you

wonbin gently runs his fingers through your messy hair. he couldn't help but laugh at the thought of how you'd feel the next morning when the realization will dawn upon you that you called him to come get you at the club. that you had him to take care of your drunken state

it almost feels deja vu to wonbin that he was out here taking care of your drunken state. he finds it a little funny of a coincidence that it happened twice. the first time it happened was when you didn't even know who he was, and the second time being right now where you two have developed a deep connection through the constant late night talks and shared comfort in one another

it isn't much to say anything but he finds it funny that it happened twice

wonbin leans his head back, staring at the window. the city has always been quiet in times like this, just how he likes it. quiet enough that he can still hear his thoughts but loud enough to distract him from everything going on

he doesn't know why but he's silently hoping that this drive would take a little longer

. . . ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

"i'm tired" you complained, eyes still closed as you and wonbin stood outside your apartment building. you two just got dropped off by the uber driver courtesy of wonbin who ordered and paid for it now here you were, leaning on wonbin for total support.

you were now quite literally on your last legs. your feet are killing you with your heels and the fact that your head was pounding. all you wanted to do was just lay down on your bed and doze off

but of course, you still had to get inside your apartment, get unready, prepare yourself medicine and yada yada yada. just thinking about it while still under the influence just made you feel worse

"my feet hurt" you hissed, kicking off your heels on the street, startling wonbin at your sudden outburst

you were getting cranky by the minute. maybe this was all the drinks you had coming back to get your ass

"we're almost home. just a little more walking okay?" wonbin gently says, trying not to piss you off. who knew you become so cranky after a night out?

wonbin takes a deep breath, realizing the sticky situation he's in. he figures that you won't be cooperating anytime soon so he grabs your heels and wraps an arm around your waist so he could stabilize your posture as you two walk inside your apartment complex

it took a while for wonbin to basically haul your ass to your floor. you had no elevator in your building so that meant stairs. you were so close on giving up due to how exhausted you were that wonbin had to carry you on his back

"are we there yet" your words were slurring. the way you nuzzled your head on wonbin's neck, catching a whiff of his scent that smelled like a mix of vanilla and roses

"almost" wonbin huffs. not only he was carrying you, he was also carrying your purse and your heels with his free hand

you hum instead of answering. leaning your weight on wonbin. he was just so warm that you can’t get enough of it

“wonbin” you call out after a while. you don’t even know what floor you two are in but one thing for sure is that your unit was on the 9th floor

you're gonna owe him a lot for this

“yeah?” he answers, glancing back at you ever so slightly

he can feel shivers on his skin when he feels your lips accidentally brush against his exposed nape

“thanks for coming to get me” you say quietly

wonbin laughs, ignoring the feeling in his chest

“wouldn’t want you to call anyone else to be honest” he jokes. he’s still in disbelief that you called him out of people. “you owe me for this by the way”

you hum again, closing your eyes, just letting wonbin take you home

wonbin finally gets to your damn apartment unit. he crouches down so you could get off of his shoulders. you groggily get off his back to walk up to your door to input your password so you could get in

finally, home sweet home

you never wanted to just fall face first onto your covers

wonbin laughs at the way you were basically crawling your way to bed. your feet must've been so tired wearing those heels all night long. but then he realizes that you were wearing outside clothes

he puts your things down on the counter before he makes his way towards you, who was now laying peacefully on your bed

"get up. let's get unready first" he says, grabbing your arm, pulling you back up

you let out an irritated growl. snatching your arm back

"don't want to" you grunt, lying back down when wonbin stops you

"i just want you to be comfortable before you sleep. please?" he pleads, watching your face contort into something he can't decipher. although it looks like you were trying to glare at him

looks like he had some magic spell whenever he says please cause you just silently went along with what he said. you stood up, wobbling over to your bathroom so you could get unready

wonbin laughs at the way you were stumbling over yourself. tripping on your own feet trying to get to your bathroom with your eyes closed

he then watches you sit on the toilet lid. he waited for a few minutes in case you were just trying to compose yourself but you just sat there in silence. essentially he took out his phone out and took photos of your state. this was too good of an opportunity not to take pictures of you for future purposes (blackmail basically)

"y/n" wonbin calls, waiting for you to respond. when you don't say anything back, wonbin makes his way towards your bathroom

"are you seriously sleeping right now" wonbin laughs out loud. the way you were just sitting still with your eyes closed

"huh?" you blurt, trying to peek an eye open but no avail

wonbin couldn't stop laughing. the next time you plan on drinking all night, he'll make sure to remind you to think twice before doing so cause just look at you right now

"where are your makeup wipes?" wonbin asks, wiping a tear from his eye from laughing so much

it took you all the remaining energy you had in you left to even lift your hand to point where your skincare stuff was at. wonbin follows where your fingers were pointed at and opened your drawers looking for some makeup removers and the like

when he finds the packet, he takes one out and kneels to your level. he gently grabs your face and starts to wipe your makeup away in a gentle manner. just enough that your face would be deemed as clean so you wouldn't sleep with your makeup on

"are you done?" you murmured, still sitting on the toilet lid. wonbin pats your head, ruffling your already messy hair in the process

"yep. just brush your teeth and change then we're good" he says, getting up from his kneeling position off the ground, throwing away the wipes to the trash can

you begrudgingly get up from the toilet lid and pushed him out of the bathroom to change and brush your teeth

wonbin can't help but laugh a little. how this night turned out was beyond his expectations. he didn't expect that he'd actually take care of your drunk ass all night

while you were busy doing your thing, wonbin looks around your cabinets for some medication like painkillers or advil for tomorrow. he prepares them near your small fridge so you won't need to look for them first thing tomorrow with a pounding headache

after what seems like a while, you emerge out of the bathroom in your pajamas while still wearing his jacket, looking ready to sleep in the next day

wonbin watches you slowly make your way towards your bed. it was a good thing you left your ac on before you left hours ago because your apartment was freezing cold, just the way you like it

you didn't even bother to cover yourself with your blanket the way you just straight up plopped down on your bed face first. the cold pillows hitting your face immediately and almost knocked you out like a light

wonbin, who was still in your apartment, couldn’t help but smile again at the sight. you were finally comfortable enough that he wouldn’t have to worry about any other complaints besides the impending hangover you're surely going to have soon

he walks near your bed and covers you with your blanket, making sure you were comfortable and cozy. he waits for a moment, hearing your breathing go steady til he takes this a sign to leave

man, what a hell of a night has it been taking care of you

though your hand stops him from leaving just yet

"wait" you murmured, your hand circling around his wrist, making him turn to you

"yes?" wonbin hums, leaning down close to you in case you had any more requests

"stay" you mumbled, tugging his hand that he stumbles a bit

wonbin hesitates for a bit. you were obviously not in the proper state of mind and you were just saying shit. he's not sure if he should comply with your wishes or not cause when you wake up tomorrow there's gonna be a lot of questions like why were you in bed with him and that's the last thing he wants

"wonbin" you whine, tugging on his arm, “stay with me. please”

he really can't resist you, can he?

wonbin slowly slides in your bed next to you, thankfully there was still an ample amount of space between the two of you. he'll just stay til you really fall asleep just to avoid any awkwardness throughout the night

though that goes all out the window when you suddenly wrap your arms around wonbin and rested your head against his chest

"so warm" you comment, sighing in content

wonbin freezes and rethinks every decision he made tonight that led to this

what the actual fuck

"you're drunk, y/n.." wonbin mumbles, arms itching to wrap themselves around you, "you'll forget about this later in the morning.."

"what are you even saying? i'm saying you're just warm to be with" you drunkenly rant, raising your head a little to glare at him. “hold me” you huffed, snuggling closer to wonbin if it was even possible

wonbin is unsure with what to do with his hands. he feels like this is all so wrong but at the same time, it feels so right. thinking that it wouldn't be much of a problem later on (and you did basically grant him permission), he eventually wraps his arm around you too. fingers delicately tapping beats on your exposed shoulder, slowly lulling you to sleep

"wonbin.." you murmur against his chest. wonbin hums, indicating that he was listening and paying attention

"i'm so happy that i met you" you mumbled, "i never met.. anyone like you..”

wonbin chuckles, you were just sleep talking at this point but it did make him feel warm inside that you felt that way towards him. because if he was being honest, he felt the same too

it's silence after that. the only sound that could heard was your light snores. looks like you finally fell asleep

in wonbin's arms at that

wonbin takes this time to take a good look of your face up close. this was the second time you two are this up close with each other. something really did shift between the two of you ever since that kiss cause why the hell were you so comfortable with him like this ever since

he tucks your hair behind your ear again. fingers delicately tracing your face before he gently rubs his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks, smiling softly as he watches you sleep peacefully

"i'm happy to meet you too" he lightly chuckles, knowing you couldn’t hear him.

too tired to get up and cross the street to go back to his own place, he figured that it wouldn't be much of a problem to sleep over for the first time and you did tell him to stay after all

with his eyelids growing heavier by the minute, he drapes the blanket over the two of you before he dozes off to sleep with you in his arms

[hotshotsxyz]

"you’re so damn attractive. you know that right?" for the sacred romantic moments, if it inspires

(buddie) (444 words)

“You’re so damn attractive. You know that right?” Buck slings his arm around Eddie’s shoulder and gestures vaguely at the rest of the bar. “They don’t even—don’t even know.”

He’s not sure that actually made any sense, but it did make Eddie laugh, so he’s gonna count that as a win.

“Sure,” Eddie snorts. “I think you might be a little drunk, Buck.”

Even in dim light, his eyes sparkle. He’s so—so—

“And you’re pretty,” Buck says triumphantly. Eddie is so pretty. Does he know he’s pretty? He should know that.

“Mm hm,” Eddie hums indulgently.

“I mean it! Eddie, if I could—” Oh, whoops, no, maybe he is drunk. That’s an inside thought.

Beside him, Eddie sucks in a breath. “If you could what?” he asks in a rush.

“Um,” Buck says intelligently.

Eddie’s looking at him like— well, Buck doesn’t actually know what he’s looking at him like but it’s either a really good thing or maybe a bad thing, but Eddie’s always a good thing so probably the way he’s looking is good, too.

“Buck,” Eddie says.

“I, um—can we—” Buck stutters. He’s not even sure what he’s trying to ask.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes.

He grabs Buck’s wrist and starts pulling him towards the exit. And oh, okay, yeah, this is maybe what he wanted. Eddie always knows what he wants. Which, oh, if that’s true than he also knows—

Eddie ushers him through the exit and into the cool night air and all at once Buck feels—not quite sober, but—clear. They’re outside a skeevy bar and both a little drunk and, maybe, both about to take the leap they’ve been tumbling toward for six years. Eddie doesn’t let go of his wrist.

They’re not far from Buck’s loft, close enough to walk if they really want to. Maybe that would be a better place to have this conversation, but all of a sudden Buck’s not sure he can wait another second, and if the wild look in Eddie’s eyes is anything to go off, he can’t either.

“Tell me,” Eddie says when they’re far enough from the bar that the music floating out leaves nothing but a hazy impression.

“I—I want…” Buck trails off.

Eddie takes a step closer and suddenly he’s all Buck can see. “Anything,” he says.

“Do you—do you mean that?” It comes out rough and shaky, but Buck’s pretty sure that can be forgiven, given the circumstances.

“Yes,” Eddie says.

“In that case,” Buck whispers, swaying forward until their noses brush, “this is the first of several requests.”

He closes the last sliver of distance between them.

[coldbronzemoon]

Danny Fenton, Totally Mortal Hero Consultant (DPxDC)

Snippet for an AU I'll probably never fully write where Danny takes a job as a consultant for the Justice League to help with ghost and demon bullshit. It's a pretty good cash flow to help him with college, after all, and very flexible hours.

He just claims all his knowledge comes from his parents. Unfortunately, the JL has caught word of the elusive yet active hero Phantom, and want Danny to help them meet and assess him. Whoops.

Over the phone, Tucker sighed. “Good Christ, Danny, why do you keep doing this?”

“I’m not doing anything,” Danny said immediately. He winced at the vague sound of screaming below. Demons sucked. “I didn’t know the JL thing was gonna have me finding Phantom. How would I? They were talking about tracking down powerful ghosts, I was assuming Ancients!”

Tucker sighed again, which was really quite unfair of him. “Mhm. Well, Fenton Catcher?”

“Probably not. They know me pretty well at this point, and unlike what Sam says I can be professional. I’d confuse them with the… uh…”

“Stoner shtick?”

There was more screaming happening, but judging from the pitch it was a demon screaming this time. Danny checked the situation. Yep, demon getting their ass kicked. He didn’t need to get involved with a blaster. Yet.

Instead, he scowled at his phone. “Stop calling it that.”

“You’re gonna tell me flanny Danny wasn’t a pitch-perfect stoner, huh? With the chill vibing and the dopey look?”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, bud.” 

The sound of a clacking keyboard that had underlined their conversation stopped. “But seriously, Danny, what the hell are you gonna do with this?”

“Uh, lie, probably,” Danny said, because it was very likely.

“Alright, smartass, what are you going to do when that lie backfires on you like literally every other one does?”

“That’s when I start gaslighting, gatekeeping, and girlbossing, babe.”

He had a hard time hearing Tucker’s distant groan of “Why am I still your friend?” on account of the sudden explosion. Danny checked again. Hm. Demon dude had a nasty fire thing going on.

Danny switched on his Fenton water gun—holy water included!-- and shot the demon in the face. They let out a cracking hiss of rage, but dropped the fire spell thing. He waited for them to stop looking around wildly for the culprit for a moment. 

He went back to the call. “‘Cause you loooove me, Tuck. From the bottom of your twice-dead heart.”

“Unfortunately,” Tucker deadpanned.

Danny just cackled. It was lost amongst the sound of supernatural bullshit below.

“Anyway, I’m still figuring out my plan A, honestly. Might bring in gray-man?”

“Amorpho’s an asshole, though. He’ll ruin the whole thing by taking the opportunity to shift into a JL member for a bit.”

Hm. True.

“Yeah, but he’s the main guy I know with that power set.”

“Ask after Desiree?” He could hear the immediate distaste in Tucker’s voice. “Ugh, pretend I didn’t say that. That’s worse than Amorpho.”

“It’s awful,” Danny agreed easily. 

Desiree was actually pretty alright nowadays, mostly on account of Danny remembering the last couple minutes of Aladdin and wishing she could refuse wishes she didn’t want to grant. That had made her happy enough to stop actively picking fights. 

Unfortunately, spending the entirety of one’s afterlife twisting the wording of wishes to their worst form made it hard to stop being an asshole. Who knew! So getting Desiree to split him in two for like a week had a 50/50 chance of fucking up his work relationship with the literal league of superheroes irrevocably. And this was his main cash flow right now.

So, no Desiree, no siree.

“Come up with something better then, asshole.”

Danny hummed and, since the heroes below were focused on the demon, lifted up a little and did a thoughtful back flip. What to do, what to do…?

Oh!

“My cousin!” he exclaimed.

“What cous—? Oh, Ellie.”

“Yeah, Ellie, Tuck. Which other cousins do I have?”

Tucker scoffed. “You literally have that whole Nightingale thing going on through your dad?”

Danny couldn’t help the face he made. The remaining Nightingales were worse than his parents somehow. “The Nightingales don’t count.”

“You can’t just say they don’t count.”

“I can say that, actually, and I will. They’re, like, cousins through my great-great-great-grandpa anyway.”

“Isn’t there a fight going on over there? Should you be shooting someone?”

 “Yeah, probably.”

He peaked down through the window once more. The heroes must have gotten the first demon to leave while he was talking, because the horned demon fighting them now was a truly unfortunate shade of yellow-green instead of purple. Or maybe it had transformed for some reason? They had it about as in-hand as the other one, though, so Danny definitely didn’t need to go down there. He shot the maybe-new demon in the face real quick.

“Anyway, Ellie can totally help out, she’s been practicing with changing up her looks. She’s also more, uh, malleable than me, what with her situation and all. Looking fully like Phantom shouldn’t be hard.”

Tucker hummed. “She’d try to embarrass you though.”

“Yeah, that’s a problem.” Danny spun in place. “I could bribe her?”

“With what? Her life doesn’t involve needing much cash.”

“She doesn’t get out to the Zone very much. Not many of the inhabited places, anyway. I can promise her the weird apple things Dora’s been growing with Sam’s help, she loved those.”

“If you think that’ll work…” Tucker trailed off dubiously.

Danny laughed. “She’s annoying sometimes, but she’s not gonna fuck over my job if I ask her not to. I’ll just bribe her extra hard for resisting the temptation to mock me.”

“Fair enough.” The clacking of keys resumed. “I’ve really gotta pay attention now, someone’s trying to stop me from getting into this database. Someone half-decent, actually, did they upgrade? Hm. Make sure no one died, yeah?”

“They’re alive. Bye, Tuck,” Danny said, and ended the call.

He shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket and made his way down the stairs. The fight outside he had been stationed for was basically over—Captain Marvel and Green Lantern (Danny was pretty sure he had accidentally learned the dude’s actual name at some point, but hell if he could remember)—had pulled out the magic restraints one of the other consultants had handed out.

That had probably been Constantine. Ugh. Constantine. Dude could stand to lighten up a little; skulking and smoking all the time wasn’t the base state of someone enjoyable to be around. Then again, Danny knew he annoyed the shit out of some of the league with his own attitude, so he maybe shouldn’t talk. But at least he was annoying with a smile!

Case in point: Danny grinned at the heroes. “Got it handled?”

“Suppose so,” said the Green Lantern, “though a little more help would have been nice.”

Captain Marvel was too busy getting in a minor tussle with the demon to say anything either way.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m like, pretty mortal,” Danny said. “I’m not fucking with demons right where they can hit me. And I did shoot him!”

Green Lantern rolled his eyes, but admitted the point. Danny cheerfully flipped him off anyway.

“I’ll be heading out, then, the hellmouth this guy crawled out of is like three miles away.” Captain Marvel said, hauling the handcuffed demon over his shoulders like a very angry backpack.

“Oh, one more for the road!” 

Danny hit the demon with a final water gun shot. Hissing and scrunching their face like a cat, the demon tried to lunge at him. It wasn’t very successful. Weirdly non-verbal for a demon, who usually had to talk to make deals and steal mortal souls, but Danny wouldn’t judge. Might be a minor demon. A really basic imp? Who knew.

“Stop being a little bitch and you won’t get spray-bottled, asshole,” Danny chided.

With a loud laugh, Captain Marvel sped away.

[a-killer-obsession]

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 10 - Terms and Conditions

Now that you're part of the crew, it's time to set some ground rules.

WC: 4k

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1

You sat sleepily in Heat's lap, well, not his lap really, more like the middle of his tail. It was coiled in a tight spiral, your rump sat firmly atop it, your back pressed against his warm chest and his warm arms around your center. His naturally hot body temperature soothed the aches you still had from yesterday, he was taking such good care of you, knowing how worn out you were from taking most of the crew. He graciously hadn't attempted to mount you, but he hovered close by, which was welcomed given his sweet doting and care you were very much in need of. Your joints ached from the positions you'd been in for such a long period of time and your pussy was raw and aching. You didn't speak more than needed and Killer had provided soft foods, knowing your jaw was stiff from all the pussy eating and cock sucking you'd done. You were happy though. You felt content, and finally safe and secure in your position here. Well, as safe as you could be, now that you were officially a pirate.

“Now then Mouse,” Kid grinned, “let's make things official, aye? We believe ya story now, or at least we're trying our best to. It's still hard to accept yer from another universe. But you've at least proven your usefulness to us, so ya can stay on the crew. How bout it, Mouse? Ya wanna join my crew?”

“Yes captain,” you smiled sleepily, “will my job here be as your… bed warmer?”

“Aye, you'll be our ship whore,” Kid smirked, “only for the four of us here though, unless we decide to give someone a night with ya as a reward. You good with that?”

“Yes captain, as long as my boundaries are respected,” you stated.

“Of course lass,” Kid replied, “Wire will draw up a contract for ya later. He's the most knowledgeable here, he'll make sure your boundaries are laid out for us. Everyone we let have you will be made clear of your conditions. You're still up for the four of us free using you, aye? It was your original offer. I did let you live, after all.”

“Within limits, yeah,” you responded, trying to not let your lust-addled brain distract you from an important conversation. Being free used by four big, strong, attractive, well endowed men? Ohhhh what a horror, the worst thing you could imagine. “I like what we've got going on. Will I be given a share of the loot like the others?”

“Of course lass,” Kid chuffed, “if anything you'll be paid better. You'll be saving us a great deal of money by servicing us instead of having to spend money on island whores. We'll give you your own room, for convenience. Everyone else shares but the four of us, but I'm not sure anyone is keen on losing sleep whenever we have need of ya. There's a lounge in the castle we barely use, we'll have it cleared out for ya. We're on our way back to Sabaody as we speak, you can go to the shops and get whatever you need to get set up once we dock. We'll back pay you for your time since ya started servicing us.”

“Thank you captain,” you replied gratefully. You didn't expect him to pay you for your time as a prisoner. “That's generous of you. I won't let you down.”

“You'll probably find your bed doesn't get much use, unless you're in need of a break,” Kid continued with a chuckle, “but it'll give you somewhere to keep your shit anyway.

“Speaking of resting,” you interjected, “I had a bit of an idea. In terms of the free-using. I was wondering if you'd make me a more long term wearable collar, something that won't irritate my skin, thin perhaps. With a tag that has your jolly roger. I thought maybe we could use it as a signal, if I'm not wearing the collar then I'm in need of rest.”

“EXCELLENT IDEA!” Kid roared, spooking you a little as he thumped his fist against the table, “I'll make ya a collar that'll make everyone jealous of ya!”

“Thank you, captain,” you smiled, nuzzling sleepily against Heat's bicep.

“Tired, Mouse?” Kid smirked.

“Mmm,” you mumbled, “I feel like I'm hungover from yesterday. Drunk on dick I guess. And pussy.”

Killer and Wire snorted while Kid made a boisterous laugh. “Before you fall asleep,” Killer jumped in, “is there anything we need to know for the immediate future?”

“Mmm,” you mumbled, trying to sit upright, to which Heat helped you, nuzzling his face against your back, “you need to get the ship coated before Ace's execution, cos after that the only coater I know will be busy.”

“Where do we find him?” Wire asked.

“You're all familiar with the coater already, in fact you met him the other day,” you alluded, “Silvers Rayleigh, he can coat the ship. You'll find him, or at least his wife, Shakky, in grove thirteen at Shakky's Rip-Off Bar. You unintentionally helped his friend rescue that mermaid by helping the Straw Hats escape, so he should be amenable to coating the ship.”

“He's the coater?” Kid exclaimed, “the fuck is the ‘Dark King’ doing coating ships?”

“Paying for his alcoholism, mostly,” you yawned, making the others snort laughs.

“Alright then Sleeping Beauty,” Kid laughed, before his smile fell to a more serious expression, “we don't have to worry about this whole execution shit, right?”

“There'll be a war, but your crew won't be involved,” you replied, “it'll all happen over at the marine base. You'll just see it on a screen on Sabaody.”

“Alright then,” Kid huffed, pleased and relieved with your answer. It was no secret that there was tension in the air regarding the execution and whether returning to Sabaody was even safe tight now. There were reports that Whitebeard was on the move to save Ace, and it made Kid uneasy, but he trusted your prediction, you hadn't let him down thus far. “Go get some rest then princess, we promise we'll behave till you're up to it. I'll have that collar for ya before your pussy is ready to get destroyed again.”

Kid winked as he stood and grabbed a boob as he passed by, making you squeal and slap his hand playfully as the captain chuckled. You started to stand as well, but Heat swung you onto his back to carry you, making you giggle as you grabbed his horns for support. “Giddy up!” You laughed. He pretended to buck you, which only made you giggle more, Killer shaking his head with a grin under his mask as Heat carried you out. He and Heat were in high spirits, overly relieved and happy that your story had been proven true and you got to stay. You'd promised Heat to do some sunbathing with him on top of the dinosaur skull while the sun was out, it was a good excuse for a nap and a cuddle really.

You hopped off Heat's back as he made it up, he was surprisingly fast and agile in this form. It'd made you curious as to why he didn't use this form more, to which he had told you that it ‘wasn't polite’ to go around in that form, whatever that meant. Maybe it was like how zoan fruit users usually stayed in their human form? Heat laid down first, making a pleased grunt as his head rested on the pillow he'd chucked up here earlier, his long tail stretching along the skull like an arrow pointed at the distant Sabaody that hovered on the horizon.

“I'm really glad you get to stay,” Heat hummed as you got comfy next to him, resting your head on his chest, tucked into the crook of his armpit.

“Yeah, me too,” you murmured back with a big yawn. Heat gave you a soft smile and a little squeeze before the yawn caught him too.

“Alright, ready to get started?” Wire asked, tapping the tip of the feathered pen against the page in front of him, “I've made a list of kinks the crew like to indulge in. You just let me know which ones you're comfortable with. Ready?”

“Yup!” You smiled back sweetly, leaning forward and resting your face in your palm, your elbow against the table. It was just you and Wire in the navigation room, he didn't want you to have the pressure of the others watching you and potentially pressuring you into things you weren't comfortable with.

“First item - free use for the four commanders, under the circumstances that your collar is on. That much I know you're good with, but what about outside of that?” He asked.

“A big maybe,” you replied, “I'm a regular woman without the collar. If they can seduce me, sure. But I reserve the right to deny them without consequence.”

“Okay, seems reasonable,” he replied, the pen making scratching noises as he jotted it down, “I have a list of things you've already participated in, so I'll just run through them quickly so you can confirm them for the contract. Touching of all body parts, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, cunnilingus, blow jobs, deep throating, face fucking, use of strap on, cum on body including face and genitals and inclusive of female cum, cum in mouth, creampies. Threesome, degradation, praise, bathing together, face riding, both giving and receiving, those are the basics, yes to all of the above?”

“Can we make an amendment for no cum near my eyes?” You asked him, “otherwise yes to everything else.”

“No cum near eyes, got it,” he wrote on the page, “the next set is things you've done that are on the more intense side. Gangbang, bukkake, self-wetting, humiliation, somnophilia, exhibitionism, bondage, pet play and master/servant dynamics, both as dominant and submissive. Amenable to all of those?”

“Somnophilia is the sleep one, yeah?” You queried.

“Aye,” Wire confirmed.

“Okay, yeah that's fine,” you confirmed, “but um… I don't want Heat watching me use the toilet anymore. And I'm not eating out of a bowl or shitting in a litterbox.”

“Noted,” Wire replied, scribbling that down, “you were fine with the self-wetting though? What about other watersports?”

“I've never tried but, I'm not not curious,” you replied unsurely, “the self-wetting was… enlightening.”

“I'll put it down as a maybe, for future experimentation. You can change your mind later if you want, same goes for anything on this list,” Wire assured you, “now for the requests. Anal fingering, mouth to ass, anal sex. Receiving and giving. Thoughts?”

“Yeah, those are fine. I've done a few on the giving end as well, but I guess that person wanted to keep it to himself,” you noted, “just uh… only receiving the whole way with proper lubrication. No spit as lube bullshit unless it's only fingers.”

“Got it,” Wire confirmed, “next up, use of toys such as dildos and vibrators, use of nipple clamps, impact play, with hands and equipment. Bondage such as shibari, cuffs, bed, wall and furniture mounted restraints. Sensory deprivation. Tickling. Forced orgasms. Edging. Thoughts?”

“No to the tickling, limited to impact play. I'm not a fan of pain,” you explained, “light smacking is fine, but you can cross off anything too painful, otherwise yes to everything else.”

“I'll cross off knife play and hook suspension,” Wire said as his pen ran a line through several items, “next set. Foot play, non-con roleplay, softcore roleplay such as maid, fisting, sex under the influence of alcohol and drugs, use of purpose built furniture such as breeding benches, double penetration, of separate holes and of multiple cocks in one hole.” Wire looked at you expectantly, his pen paused over the page.

“Uhh, no to fisting,” you ran through the list in your head trying to make sure you remembered everything, “um… yes to one in the ass, one in the cunt. Maybe to two in my cunt, I've never tried. Definitely no to two in my ass.”

“I think you could manage two in one,” Wire smirked, “as long as I wasn't one of them. You took me so well.”

“Mmm, I certainly want to try,” you hummed, “quit reminding me of your big beefy cock or I won't be able to concentrate.”

“We're almost done,” Wire snorted and shook his head, “anything else not on this contract, we'll ask first. You'll be paid the same split as Heat and I get. You'll use the colour system for safe words regardless of if your collar is on or not. Green when prompted to go ahead, orange if something needs to change or you need a break, red if you need to stop. No consequences will come from using the safe words so please don't be afraid to use them. By signing this you agree to remain up to date with your birth control unless an explicit agreement is made to impregnate you, you may expect that from Heat or Killer, Kid and I aren't the type to want babies. If an accident happens, Kid promises not to kick you off the ship. The rest of the crew will keep their hands off you unless you give them permission, otherwise a maximum of once a week we may choose to allow them a night with you as a reward. You won't allow anyone outside of this ship to touch you without permission from your captain. You will remain on this crew unless relieved of your contract by the captain. You'll also be given regular STI screening, as the four of us do, and all other crewmates will be required to use protection with you. Do you agree to all these terms?”

“Sounds good to me,” you hummed, openly ogling Wire's muscular torso, “you wanna fuck?”

“Sign here first,” he shuffled the page over to you and you quickly signed it, biting your lip as he stood and rounded the table. He loomed over you from behind your chair, running his hand up your neck until his hand was sweeping your chin up, forcing you to look at him. You pushed aside the page with its drying ink and sat on the edge of the table, spreading your legs for Wire to slot between them.

“What happened to having a sore cunt?” Wire mused, running his thumb over your lower lip, pressing against the soft flesh. He was all for fucking you, he'd been thinking a lot about your tight cunt and wanted to take his time with you. He worried though that you were ignoring your limits.

“Well you see there's this thing called ‘remembering how fucking big and hot your cock is’ and unfortunately I'm no good at disagreeing with my pussy, she wants what she wants,” you purred back up at him, peeking out your tongue to lick his digit before taking it in your mouth, humming as you sucked his thumb.

“You're so cute when you're being submissive,” Wire grinned, replacing his thumb with his pointer and middle finger and gagging you with them, “I have been wanting to get a taste of that pretty cunt of yours. No collar though,” he hummed, running his finger down your neck and tracing a trail of saliva over where the collar would sit, “so I have to ask, can I taste you, princess?”

“Please do,” you huffed, pulling your legs up so your feet rested on the table, showing off your flexibility as you sat back. You'd never properly redressed after waking up, still just wearing one of Heat's old shirts, large enough to fit as a baggy dress on you, your pussy exposed and inviting underneath. You tugged on the hem of the shirt to reveal yourself to Wire, who hummed appreciatively as he ran his thumb between your folds.

“Already wet for me,” Wire cooed as he knelt, “such a good girl.”

He kissed your thighs softly, making you giggle, before his teeth sunk into the soft flesh and the giggle turned to a moan. He nipped you a few more times before his tongue ran a fat stripe up your cunt, and your hand pushed away his hood to tug at his short hair. His tongue lapped against your pussy as he pulled your legs to rest over his shoulders, giving the occasional suck of your bud that made you whine. He was clearly enjoying himself as well, grunting against your cunt as his tongue bullied its way inside you, licking at your walls while his hand looped over your thigh to thumb your clit. You could feel his pointed sideburns against your thighs as he ate you out, his thumb making small, firm circles on your bud as his thick tongue wiggled inside you.

“Oh fuck that's good,” you moaned, laying back against the table, “just like that, fuck.”

His other hand weaselled up under his chin, the end of his middle finger toying with your asshole and spreading the slick and spit that had rolled down around the ring before sinking in. There was a spark of electricity in your clit as his finger pushed inside your ass, not quite finger fucking you, just toying with your hole for extra stimulation. It made that coil in your stomach pull tight, your back arching off the table as you fisted his hair, holding him tight against you. You could feel the coy grin he made against your cunt, and you made the mistake of looking down, immediately catching his eyes that were watching you carefully from between your legs. Those fucking eyes, they always did something to you, and you threw back your head with a groan, cumming on his tongue, his finger forced out of your ass by the contractions your orgasm made.

He gave you a few more greedy licks that made you shiver before he stood, making a show out of unfastening his pants and laying his thick erection against your stomach as his shorts and briefs pooled at his ankles. He rut his cock between your folds, getting his shaft coated in slick and spit and rubbing against your over-stimulated clit. “You're so pretty like this, blissed out with my cock laying against you,” he noted, “pull your shirt up, I wanna see your tits.”

You obediently did as he asked in your post orgasm daze, squishing and kneading your tits for his enjoyment. He groaned as you pulled at your own nipples, your hips rolling to grind against his shaft on their own accord. “You want it bad, huh? Cute little bunny, horny little thing,” Wire purred, putting more force into the rutting. He took himself in his hand and pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, pushing only the tip in and stretching you out. That on its own was enough to make you whine and try to shift to take more of him. “So greedy, trying to get more already. I'm gonna have fun taking my time with you,” he teased, pulling his tip out and sinking it back in over and over, making you whine at the emptiness each time he removed himself.

“Please!” You begged, “want it, want it so bad.”

“Yeah? You want this?” He asked, suddenly sinking himself in, to what he knew was your limit, before entirely leaving you empty again, his cock rubbing against your clit. “Use your words baby.”

“Want- want your fat cock,” you whimpered, “want it splitting me open. Wanna feel you filling me, please.”

“Such a good girl,” Wire cooed, bullying his cock back inside you, but not moving any further. You only said you wanted it inside you, you never said anything about moving. Wire was a master of restraint, any of the others would have already been fucking your brains out by now, while he enjoyed watching you writhe against the table as he warmed his cock. “That feel good, baby? You like keeping my cock nice and warm?”

“Y-yes,” you whined, “feels so full, hnng. Fuck me Wire, please, please please please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he toyed, before pulling out most of the way and slamming back in, prompting a scream from you at the sudden heavy thrust. He did it over and over, pulling out slowly, then pushing in hard and fast, driving you insane as you got enough stimulation to feel incredible but never enough to sustain the building orgasm, and you got the feeling that was purposeful. Wire was only doing exactly as you asked, he was testing you, teasing you to see how far you would go to beg for it. You reached between your legs to rub your clit, but he quickly grabbed your wrists and folded them against your chest, pinning you down.

“Please,” you begged, “more, please, wanna cum on your cock so bad.”

“How bad do you want it?” Wire teased, “what are you gonna give me in return?”

“Anything!” You cried, “please, anything, please fuck me harder!”

“You're gonna let me frost your face, and you're gonna wear it for the rest of the day,” Wire growled, “you're not washing it off till bedtime. Everyone's gonna see what a little slut you are.”

“Yes! Yes!” You whined, trying and failing to fight his hold to try and fuck yourself with his cock, “please, please, please.”

“Good girl,” Wire praised, before finally committing to a hard and fast pace that had you shrieking and seeing stars. Your pussy made obscene squelches as he fucked it, Wire making grunts and tightening his grip on your arms as he used you like a cock sleeve, loving the way your pussy was already fluttering around him, so desperate to cum, choking his cock like it was desperate for him to breed you. “You gonna squirt for me, bunny? Gonna make a mess?”

“Y-yes,” you moaned, unable to escape his hold as he started to overstimulate you, making you dizzy as you felt your orgasm rushing at you. “C-cumming!” You shouted before your thighs clamped around him and shook hard, cum dripping off the side of the table and on to the rug below, some of it drenching his abdomen. His cock never stopped pumping you, the wet sounds now increased tenfold with the added lubrication while you squealed and writhed before finally stilling with a heavy pant.

“Good whore,” Wire purred, “such a good girl.” You barely heard what he was saying, practically lifeless against the table, all you could do was whimper pathetically. Wire got close to his own peak and pulled out, climbing onto the table and straddling your chest. He pumped his cock over you, pleased by the half-lidded puppy dog eyes you were giving him, too weak and fucked out to do more than lick the end of his cock or feebly suck on the tip when he pushed it between your lips. “Close your eyes sweetheart,” he cooed. No sooner had you closed them did he grunt, and you heard his palm hit the table next to your face for support as the first hot spurts of cum hit your face, aimed mostly for your lips and cheek, some of it getting in your hair. It was a large load, and you could already feel it start to drip as he panted, rolling off you to lay on the table beside you, his legs hanging over the edge while yours were folded up, feet against the edge, knees together and still shaking.

“What do you say?” He teased.

“Th-thank you,” you whined.

“Good girl,” he huffed, before surprising you with his softness as he linked his hand with yours, “you're gonna do well here, and we're gonna take good care of you.”

“Mmm,” you replied sleepily, resting your eyes for a moment and enjoying his warm hand encompassing yours. Later you would go to dinner with Wire's cum still coating your face, sitting in his lap so it was clear to everyone who's cum it was. Everyone told you how pretty you looked, and promised they'd paint you too soon.

[Next Chapter]

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Redemption Road

Natasha x reader

Genre: angst; fluff

Warnings: mentions of alcohol; kissing; suggestive themes but no actual smut; mentions of trauma; Red Room; Natasha cries

a/n: way longer than I intended haha and probably not totally canonically correct whoops

Norway, 10.00pm

Natasha shivered slightly, wrapping the blanket tighter around her shoulders as she sat hunched over her laptop. The code she was tracing was proving tricky but she knew she was close to the source. Her breath fogged in front of her as she tapped out a line of code, delving deeper into the rabbit-hole she was exploring. “That’s not right,” she murmured, a tiny frown pinching her forehead, as she tracked an offshoot of numbers. Her shoulders tensed as she prepared for a trap, but it appeared she’d taken the right route. She bit her lip, satisfied that she’d made the right call.

Outside, it was dark, a waxing moon casting shadows over the scrubby ground around her cabin. Natasha had felled most of the trees nearby, preferring to see any adversaries approaching, rather than be taken by surprise. She’d carefully set a few traps, keeping them obscure enough to be hidden, but powerful enough to hold a man down until she decided what to do with him. An owl hooted, the quavering note hanging in the air before another answered it from a few miles away. With soft wing-beats, it took flight, gliding into the darkness.

Natasha sucked in a breath as the final line of code went through. The cursor flashed lamely on the screen then someone other than Natasha started typing.

Hello, Natasha

Natasha kept her expression neutral as she typed out a reply, the clicking of her keyboard the only sound in the tiny cabin.

Hello, y/n. You’re a hard person to track down

The conversation picked up speed. On the other end, you frowned, wondering why Natasha was contacting you after a long period of silence. You didn’t trust her, and it had been a long time since you’d last seen the spy and you wondered what she was after this time.

Not always. For you, there’s no price - this time. What have you got yourself into this time? I’m not doing siberia round 2

A chuckle escaped from Natasha’s lips, she couldn’t help herself. Siberia had been an interesting but dangerous mission, and one of the last times she’d worked with you. Although your name had been one of the first to come to mind, Natasha hesitated about working with you. You were savage in your missions, never holding back on an opponent and you trusted nobody, especially not Natasha. It would be a hard conversation to get you on board, but Natasha knew she was one of a handful of people left who could facilitate that conversation and form a partnership with you, however uneasy it may become.

I need your help with a job. Something to do with home. Are you in?

I need more details. Usual place?

I can’t go there anymore. Vigeland sculpture park, 72 hours, 8.15pm. Natasha quickly ran an encryption on her message, to save it from anyone who might be reading the conversation, but she knew that you could crack it in seconds. Suddenly becoming fearful, she encrypted the entire conversation, ensuring its destruction once she typed the word ‘goodbye.’

See you there. 72 hours. Don’t be late this time.

I’m never late. Goodbye

Her screen turned black and the conversation disappeared. In its place, she was left staring at a tourist website for the Vigeland Sculpture Park in Oslo, Norway. Natasha rolled her eyes, this was your way of telling her you’d be there.

72 hours later, Vigeland Sculpture Park, Oslo, 8.15pm

Natasha pulled her hat down further over her ears and carried on strolling through the park, every so often stopping to read an inscription by the base of a statue. She knew she hadn’t been followed, she’d employed every technique to throw anybody off her tail. It had taken 2 hours but she was satisfied.

Glancing up, she noticed a statue of a crying baby, one foot raised, as though it was about to stamp it into the ground. Snow was piled on the statue’s head, making it look like the baby was wearing a hat. A figure was standing in front of the statue, gazing at it but not taking it in, and Natasha carefully making her way over.

“Good evening.” Natasha knew no Norwegian, thankfully most Norwegians spoke English so if this wasn’t you, she could pass it off as a mistake. She only hoped that you weren’t somewhere else, watching her get fooled by an innocent bystander.

You turned around, a faded black cap pulled firmly down on your head. Your face was impassive as you looked at her, instead you only frowned slightly. “Natasha.” Reaching out, you brushed snow off her shoulder. She jerked back, unsure of your movements, and you bit back a smile. “You never liked personal touch, did you? Now remember, you called me for once.”

“You chose to call me last time,” she pointed out, looking warily at you. She began walking, choosing not to wait, and knowing that you’d fall into step alongside her. She adjusted her hat and took a sideways glance at you. You were not dressed for the Norwegian weather, choosing to wear a light bomber jacket, jeans and black sneakers, the black cap completing the look. “I have a job to do.”

“You always have a job to do,” you fired back immediately, “and you always need my ass to come in and save you from whatever crap you’re stuck in.”

“I’m never stuck,” she growled, “how dare you insinuate -”

“Insinuate?” you hissed, stopping and staring at her. “What about Siberia, Nat? What about Greece, for heaven’s sake? What about -” There was a knowing glint in your eye as you rattled off locations where Natasha had required some extra assistance. Deep down, you knew that she never really needed your help and it irritated you that you were considered a last resort.

“Alright, you’ve made your point,” she snapped. Natasha carried on walking, remembering why she’d stopped calling you. She bit her lip, wondering if she was making the right call with her current mission. “Any news from back home?”

“It wasn’t my home,” you snapped back. “And no, I haven’t heard a thing.” Your voice was bitter and she knew you were hurt by the lack of contact. You had been imprisoned inside the Red Room for far longer than she had. She could only imagine the treatment you’d received, the brainwashing that had been conducted. “What’s your point? Why am I here?”

“Where were you?” You scoffed and she knew that you weren’t going to answer her question. Not for the last time, Natasha wondered if she was right to bring you on board. “The Red Room. I’m taking it down.” You burst into startled laughter, clapping a hand over your mouth and immediately dropping to the ground, one knee dug into the snow, your eyes scanning your surroundings. Once the Red Room had you, you never stopped looking over your shoulder, even if you had broken contact with them. Natasha sighed, crouching beside you. “Y/n, you know that it can be defeated and you know that I’m going to be the one to do it. Now get up and carry on walking, there’s a couple behind us and we need to blend in, not to stand out.” She grabbed your arm, yanking you to your feet.

“You can’t take down the Red Room, Nat,” you panted, standing a few feet away from her. “You know that’s a dead mission before you’ve even started. And what about -?” You stared at her, eyes wide with fear and your heart racing. Natasha had set herself apart from the other Widows a long time ago and it had sent everyone into the shadows whilst the attention - the spotlight - had been focused upon her.

“I know, I know,” she whispered, twisting her fingers through one another. “I know she’s out there, she keeps leaving me messages then disappearing when I try to read them. Listen, you’re the last person I wanted on this, but the first one who came to mind.” Natasha stepped closer. “Are you in?”

“I’m not coming all the way with you.” You shook your head, scuffing your sneaker in the snow, tracing an unintelligible shape. “I don’t believe you’ve got a chance in hell to make this work but I’ll listen.” Natasha started walking and you grabbed her arm. “The minute you pick your plan, I’m informing them.” You walked past her, carrying on through the park, knowing that Natasha’s gaze was boring into your back.

Natasha’s Cabin, Norway, 10.00pm

“Heaters don’t cost much.” You kicked the snow from your shoes and pulled the door shut behind you, watching as Natasha pounded her fist against an ancient light switch. There was a crackle then a hum and weak, yellow lighting flickered throughout the cabin.

“Heaters make noise.” Natasha pulled her hat off, her vibrant red hair tumbling down her back and you hastily averted your gaze. She sat down on a worn leather sofa, placing her hat and gloves firmly on the coffee table in front of her. Leaning back, she crossed her arms and glared up at you. “Tell me again why I thought this was a good idea.”

“I’m a good fighter, occasionally we make a good team. You want to take down the Red Room, but you can’t do it by yourself and until you find - well, her, you need me to assist you.” You chewed your lip. “Neither one of us likes this plan but it’s the best we’ve got.” You leant against the wall, mirroring her pose and crossing your arms. “This is going to take everything, have you even thought about that?”

“Everything?” Natasha hissed, leaping to her feet. “Do you not think that I’ve given everything, dedicated everything, to my career?” She pushed her hair out of her face and you looked at the ground. Looking at Natasha’s hair led to places you didn’t want to visit anymore. “I’m asking you to listen to me. Nobody else is going to hear me out.” You stared at Natasha, then laughed bitterly. “Oh yes, that’s true, Widow. Nobody will listen to your crazy ass plan. You’re going to get yourself killed staying in this business. You left, and they stayed, and that’s all there is to it. You don’t have to eliminate them to prove a point - joining SHIELD was a big enough move for you.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes, sinking back onto the sofa with a huff. As much as she hated to admit it, there was some truth to your words. Natasha wanted an out, an escape, something like the domesticity that her friend Clint had built for himself. She knew, however, that finding someone who could tolerate her was tricky. Turning away, she took a deep breath, holding back a rare wave of emotion, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m proving a point.” She looked back at you and if you noticed the tears in her eyes, you chose not to comment on it. “Drink?”

“As long as it’s not laced this time.” She let out a short laugh at your words, opening a cupboard and pulling out a bottle of vodka. Removing the cap, she took a swig then offered you the bottle. You could taste her chapstick on the neck of the bottle and bit the inside of your cheek hard, drawing blood, as a sudden wave of arousal rushed through you. “I haven’t forgotten Greece,” you said, offering her the bottle. “I’m not going to forget Greece. That was a low move.”

“Oh come on, you followed me to Siberia and then back to New York.” Natasha raised an eyebrow at you. “If you hated Greece, you had an out, you just chose not to take it.” She watched as you slowly sat down on the floor, drawing your knees up to your chest. “Greece was bad for both of us,” she whispered. You laughed and snatched the bottle out of her hands. “What happened in Greece was the perfect opportunity for you to push me down. You chose to act like a complete bitch simply because I was there.”

“Not true,” she fired back. Natasha couldn’t help but think about her behaviour in Greece. It was a dangerous mission - most of them were - but this one was especially so. She had to infiltrate a gala and assassinate a high-ranking SHIELD official who was attending. She still remembered the look on his wife’s face when she turned around and saw her husband lying dead in the middle of the ballroom, a pool of blood beneath his head. Natasha had blended into the background, in awe of what she’d done but also fearful. “I know you’re thinking about him,” you taunted, your voice bringing her back to the present. “Be quiet,” she snapped, “I didn’t bring you here for your criticism.”

“Oh Natasha.” You got to your feet and leant towards her, resting your hands lightly on the shabby wooden box that counted as a coffee table. “We both know that you didn’t bring me here, you had no choice in that matter.” You smirked, eyes falling to her lips briefly. “I came because - well, we both know why you really wanted me here.” Without warning, she reached out and slapped you across the face, your cheek stinging from where her hand had made contact. “You don’t get to talk to me like that,” she growled, standing up and pushing you backwards so that she could move into the open space of the cabin.

You let her push you, ending up on the floor, resting on your elbows. Her show of dominance had sent another wave of arousal through you and you realised that she knew exactly what she was doing. Turning, Natasha pulled out another bottle of vodka and you let out a loud laugh, amusement playing across your features. “Oh darling,” you mocked, “are you trying to get me drunk so that I’ll agree to your stupid plan?”

“It’s not stupid.” Natasha took a long drink from the bottle and stuck her hand out, offering you a crutch to stand up. You took it, wrapping your fingers through hers and watching a faint blush appear on her cheeks. She pulled you to your feet and you took a step towards her, so that you were in touching distance. Locking eyes with her, you reached out and softly plucked the vodka bottle from her grasp. Never breaking eye contact, you took a drink, the spirit burning your insides as you swallowed. Natasha’s eyes briefly flickered down to your neck and then up to your gaze again and she bit her lip, knowing she’d been caught. “Tell me you want this,” you whispered, still refusing to break eye contact.

With a deep breath, Natasha pulled on some inner resolve and took a step back. “No.” Her reply was surprising, but you’d expected it. “No?” You raised an eyebrow, holding the bottle just out of her reach. “Natasha. Look at me.” You waited until she made eye contact. “Baby, your plan is stupid. You cannot take down the Red Room, they are far too powerful against one Widow. I know you want to find Yelena Belova, and I admire you for that, but if she doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be. You are one woman and as powerful as you are, one woman is not going to topple the Red Room. Uh-uh,” you said, as she tried to reach for the bottle, “I’m not finished speaking.”

“Yes you are,” she growled, hands reaching out to grab your jacket and pull you against her, her lips crashing onto yours. The force of the kiss took you both by surprise and you stumbled, Natasha’s back hitting the cupboard with a thud. Your hands threaded themselves into her hair and you moaned into the kiss, before she pushed you away suddenly, chest heaving and her eyes blown with want. “No. No, y/n, I cannot do this again.” Natasha took the bottle and you let her, watching her throat bob as she drank steadily, draining what was left in the bottle. She slowly put it on the counter, looking at you with a flustered gaze, but her eyes were steady and you realised she wasn’t going to sleep with you.

“Why?” The question hung in the air. There was a sadness to your voice and Natasha could hear it. She stared at you, wanting nothing more to pick you up and throw you onto the bed in the far corner but knowing that it wouldn’t help either of you. “Because…” You sighed, already knowing the answer and threw your hands up, running them wildly through your hair. “You know that I’m going to talk you out of going after the Red Room if we sleep together.” Natasha took a step towards you. “You’re already trying to, so y/n, I think it’s best that you leave.” She reached for the door and you reached out too, putting a hand on her wrist and stopping her movements. “Natasha, if you do this, just know that it will be the last time you see me.”

“What?” Her eyes met yours and she halted, shoulders tense, scanning your face for any sign that you were teasing her. “Why would you -?” You cupped her face in your hands. “I have rules to follow, orders I can’t disobey any longer. I’m not going to be an excuse for you anymore to hear what you shouldn’t do when you devise a crazy idea.” You rested your forehead gently against hers, taking in the green in her eyes. “This is the last time I answer your call. Next time, there’ll just be silence.” Natasha gripped your hands in hers, resting her head in the crook of your neck. Her breaths tickled against your skin and you sighed, hating what you were saying but believing every word of it. “Watch your back out there, Widow. The world’s not as kind as me,” you whispered, pulling back and planting a soft kiss on her lips. “You too, soldier,” she replied, kissing your cheek. You knew that she’d worked out who your orders were from but you were grateful that she didn’t push you on it, or question it.

At the edge of the clearing, you stopped and looked back. Natasha was framed in the doorway, her red hair framed around her shoulders. You took a long look at the woman, knowing you’d never see her again, then setting your shoulders, you turned towards your truck. Climbing inside, you rested your head on the steering wheel, thinking about the work ahead of you and trying desperately to put the Russian out of your mind. A tap on your window startled you and you looked up to see Natasha, gesturing for you to roll down the window. “What do you want, Widow?” you said, your voice soft. Her eyes met yours and your breath hitched. “One last time,” she said, her voice steady.

Natasha rested against you in the back of your truck. She was silent, tracing shapes on your arm mindlessly. “I don’t regret any of it,” she quietly admitted. “I know that it was dangerous and questionable, but I’d do it all again.” You smiled, kissing her forehead. “I know.” You sat up, pulling your clothes back on and adjusting your cap. “I’d better be going. It’s a long drive back to Oslo and my flight leaves in three hours.” Natasha sighed, pulling herself away and quickly getting dressed too. She left your truck, pulling you close for one last kiss. “Look after yourself, soldier.” You leant back, eyes roving over her face, committing it to memory although you knew you’d never forget it. Natasha was one in a million. “You too, Natasha. When you get there, say hello from me.” She smiled, but it faded quickly as she remembered the task she’d set herself.

As you drove away, fingers quietly drumming on the steering wheel, you thought about Natasha, her face clearly in your mind. She wasn’t going to be easy to forget, but you weren’t sure you wanted to. Time would let her fade from your mind, but the memory of her was etched into your heart. Similarly, Natasha was pacing up and down her cabin, unashamedly crying, tears dripping onto her shirt. She’d never let herself love anyone but she thought that she could have loved you if you’d had more time. Your paths had crossed when they needed to and she knew that as much as you’d pretended to hate her and reject her, your affection was as deep as hers. Her laptop lit up and she sighed, her attention once again turning to the task of finding Yelena, her sister and the destruction of the Red Room.

A breathy laugh left her lips when she read the message you’d left, the cursor still flashing.

Good luck with your stupid plan. If anyone stands a chance, it’s you. y/n.

She watched your message self-destruct, the last trace of you leaving her cabin for good. Natasha reached for another bottle of vodka, taking a sip and beginning to plan in her mind how she was going to carry out her ‘stupid plan.’

[visionarymode]

Murderous

✧ warnings: smut, language, 18+

✧ pairing: jimmy uso x female reader

✧ word count: 2,738

“I can’t believe you brought a real knife,” she shook her head while taking off her black boots. It was around one in the morning and she and Jimmy just got back from her best friend’s Halloween party. 

“It’s good I did! You ain’t seen those thirsty fuckers staring at your ass all night. I was ready to slice ‘em” he exaggerated bringing the knife to his neck. 

“That’s why you kept grabbing it all night…” she giggled remembering how he’d pull her to his chest and grab a handful every time a group of people came up to have a conversation. 

“Hell yeah that’s why I kept grabbin’ it! This all mine,” he growled against her lips as he spanked her, her tutu from the bunny costume fluffing up. 

“Yours only baby,” she smiled, kissing him for further reassurance. 

“Mmm, damn right,” he mumbled sucking on her tongue as he groped her one more time. He scooped her up in his arms and pinned her against the wall as he left sloppy kisses down her neck. 

“Mm, you still wanna party huh?” she breathed out with a giggle. 

“That party was lame as hell anyways,” he pecked her lips. She dropped her jaw at his comment.

“Don’t come for bestie like that! It was fun,” she nudged his chest to defend her. 

“Man they didn’t even have any beer pong!” he kissed his teeth making her chuckle again. 

“Don’t we still have that tennis table in the basement?” she asked with curiosity. 

“Yeah, why?” 

“You wanted beer pong let’s play some beer pong,” she expressed dropping down to the floor. 

He started laughing as she turned around with furrowed brows. 

“What? Don’t think I can beat you?” she asked still a bit tipsy from earlier. 

“Hell nah. I will whoop that ass,” he pointed his knife at her before setting his Michael Myers mask on the counter. Then an idea popped in her head. 

“Let’s make it interesting then,” she chimed in with a smirk. 

He raised his brows with anticipation as he crossed his arms. She walked towards him to zip down his jumpsuit before getting on her tiptoes to meet his lips. 

“How about…strip beer pong?” she suggested with a grin. He grinned back and nodded his head. 

“Shit okay,” he laughed excitingly pecking her lips. 

“Let me go get that table,” he slid his finger down her chest before poking her belly. 

✧✧✧✧✧

“Okay, I think that’s all of them.” 

She finished pouring the beer in the last solo cup and placed the bottle on the counter. 

“Wait- this isn’t even fair you only have the jumpsuit on,” she realized looking over at his costume. 

“I ain’t gonna be takin’ anything off. Those cups…” he pointed at the cups in front of her. 

“Are gonna be empty in about three minutes,” he dramatically held up three fingers with a big ass grin. 

“Yeah okay,” she scoffed. 

“Ladies first.” 

He rested his hands on each side of the table fully focused on her. She was extremely confident once the idea of the game came about, but she hadn’t played beer pong in years. His taunting and her swirling tipsy mind weren’t helping her focus. 

“You gonna forfeit already?” he chuckled. 

“Shut up,” she kept her eyes on his cups and tossed the ping pong ball and made the shot. 

“Drink & strip bitch,” she laughed pointing at him. He shook his head and chugged the beer. 

“Okay okay.” he mumbled wiping droplets of beer off his mouth. 

He went to zip down the jumpsuit but instead took off his shoes. 

“Now what the fuck?” she asked eyeing him in annoyance. 

“Whatchu’ mean? It’s on my body, so I’m gonna take it off my body!” he flaunted his arms up and down. 

“Pussy,” she muttered under her breath. 

“Whatchu’ say?” he asked before tossing the ping pong ball straight in her cup without even looking. She dropped her jaw at his effortless throw. 

“Yeaaaaaah, who’s the pussy now?” he laughed rubbing his hands together. 

“Drink and strip baby!” he mocked her. She rolled her eyes and chugged the beer taking off her bunny ears. He kissed his teeth in response. 

“What? It’s on my body!” she mocked back. 

She missed the next three shots and he was about to make his fourth shot in a row. She’d already taken off her boots and necklace, leaving her with just her corset, tutu, and of course…her bra and panties. He made another perfect shot in her cup and started clapping his hands obnoxiously loud. 

“Go ‘head and take that little tutu off,” he pointed at it with a big ass smirk. 

She chugged the drink and threw it to the side as she slipped the tutu off, revealing her white lace thong. He gawked at the view, licking his lips with desire. 

“Don’t get distracted now,” she drunkenly teased giving him a spin to get a full 360 view of her ass. 

“Mmmm,” he bit his lip but she threw the tutu in his face causing him to come back to. 

“My turn!” she sang and ended up missing her shot, again. 

“What the fuck?!” she dropped her jaw at the failed attempt as he laughed at her. It was his turn again and to no surprise, he made it in the cup with ease. 

“Who the one? Jim Uso the one!” he yelled with a laugh putting up his finger in the air like a goof. 

She stared at him in defeat and sighed as she took the ping pong ball out the cup and took her time drinking the beer. Droplets fell down her chin and onto her breasts that were spilling out the corset. 

“I don’t wanna play anymore,” she remarked wiping the beer off her mouth with her thumb. 

“Uh uh. Strip.” 

She tried to shoot him a glare but instead failed at hiding her smile. She was drunk, tired, and at this point very horny. She walked over to his side of the table and kept her eyes on his as she unzipped the back of her black corset revealing her matching white lace bra. 

“I said I don’t wanna play anymore…” she threw the corset across the room and jumped up on the table continuing to tease him. 

He eyes fixated on her half naked body in front of him, almost like he was mentally planning how to fuck her up right then and there. 

“What, you gonna murder me?” she playfully whispered, scooting further back as she lifted her right leg on the table. 

He deeply chuckled and stood over her with the knife in his hand, practically staring into her soul. 

“Yeah…” he used the flat side of the knife to lift up her chin to meet his dark and hungry gaze. 

“…I’m gonna murder this pussy,” he deeply spoke against her lips. She bit her lip as he slowly ran his hand up her bare thigh. Her body erupted in goosebumps at his touch and he responded to her arousal by sliding his tongue in her mouth. She held herself up with her hands spread back on the table as she kissed back. He dragged his tongue over her neck, audibly smacking it against her skin. 

“Mmm, baby…” she moaned with her eyes shut as her head fell back. She felt like she was floating as he smoothly traced his warm tongue on her neck. 

He continued to suck on the same spot and she knew it would leave a bruise. 

“I’m gonna mark up every inch of this body you know why?” he asked grazing the cold steel down her chest making her squirm beneath him. 

“Why?” she whispered, lifting her head up to lock her eyes with his as he slid it down her thighs. 

“Because it’s mine. Turn that ass around and get on your hands and knees,” he demanded. 

She obeyed and got on all fours, looking back at him zipping down the jumpsuit so his upper tanned and tattooed body was exposed. The view made her arch her back and angle her ass in the air closer to him. 

“Mmmm daddy,” she complimented as he ran his palm over her ass in response. 

He then smacked it with the flat side of the knife and the cool contact made her gasp. He ran his two middle fingers along her drenched thong and let out a chuckle. 

“You soakin’ for me already huh?” 

he grabbed her ass with both hands, leaving sloppy kisses and bites on each cheek. 

“Nobody can get you drippin’ like I do…” he breathed against her inner thighs leaving soft kisses but staying away from her clothed pussy. 

“Baby please,” she whined again with a shaky breath. 

His wet slurps near her clothed hole were making her pussy throb uncontrollably. He spanked her with the knife again, the cool contact turning her on even more. 

“Whatchu’ want?” he asked as he hooked his fingers under the left side of her panties vindictively toying with her. 

“I wanna cum in your mouth baby…” she squirmed again as he slid the knife down her lower back.

His deep and evil laugh made her pussy thump louder. Her head dropped down again with shaky breath before he slit the left hip of her panties with the knife. 

“Damn right you gon’ cum,” he deeply spoke as he cut the other side of her thong with the blade. He purposely snatched her panties from the bottom, his fingers sliding over her pussy revealing her wet mess. He tossed her cut up thong across the room and gripped her hips towards his mouth. He opened her slick folds and loudly spit between them. 

“Fuck…” she moaned as he used his two fingers to spread his saliva along her drenched entrance. He slowly slipped those same fingers inside her causing her to gasp as she used her hands to push back and grind against his fingers. 

“You like that baby?” he sinfully asked, pumping his fingers in and out of her at a faster pace, the sloshing sounds growing louder. 

“Y-yessss,” she cried struggling to hold herself up. He brought his thumb over her clit to run smooth circles over it causing her body to tremble from her climax creeping up. 

“I’m gonna cum fuck…” she moaned before he slowly slipped his fingers out grabbing the knife to spank her again.

“Uh uh. Not yet.” He spread open her slick folds with his thumbs before gliding his thick wet tongue along her entrance making her moan loudly again. 

“Fuuuuuuck baby…” she gasped as he slowly lapped up and down her pussy, humming against her. He used both hands to jiggle her ass before aggressively slapping it leaving a visible red hand print. He continued to make out with her pussy, his tongue speedily licking her up as his beard tickled her inner thighs. 

“Jim-Jimmy…” she moaned feeling overly drunk with pleasure as his pace and sounds of his tongue slurping her up grew increasingly rapid. 

“Yeah…cum for daddy,” he coached her knowing she was on the verge of releasing. To think that he couldn’t flick his tongue any faster, he did the unthinkable and ate her up like there was no tomorrow. 

“Oh my goooooood,” she moaned and he moaned in unison as she squirted in his mouth, on his beard and down her inner thighs as she dripped from overflowing cum. 

“Mmmmm,” he groaned, licking up every drop of her. She felt her mind spinning from her orgasm, deeply panting from all her screaming.

“Yeah no other man can make you cum like that…” he chuckled running his hands up your back to unclip your bra. 

“Let’s go,” he spanked her with the cool steel again as he flipped her over. 

“Go where…” she faintly asked before he grabbed her cheeks and pressed his forehead on hers. 

“I’m not done with your ass yet,” he strictly uttered, picking her up in his arms and heading up the stairs. The moonlight peeked through the curtains as he gently tossed her on the bed. She bit her lip watching his silhouette become visible. He slipped off his jumpsuit, his hard and thick bulge poking out his boxers. He took them off as his pretty, long brown dick seeped with pre cum sprung out. 

“You should dress up like a serial killer every…day,” she smirked scooting back on the fluffy sheets as he hovered over her. 

“Yeah? You like it huh?” he softly asked grabbing the knife from the end of the bed to lift her chin up with it. 

“Mhm,” she softly moaned staring into his deep brown eyes as he brought the knife up to his lips, sticking out his long and pretty pink tongue to lick the steel, his other hand dropping down to her sticky mess. 

“You like when I fuck you up like this?” he whispered against her lips, firmly holding the knife beneath her chin. 

“Yeah baby…” she shakily moaned as he dragged his tip trickling with his cum up and down her entrance, dampening it even more. 

“Whose pussy is this?” he purred in her ear as he slowly slid his length inside her soaked hole.

“Mmmm yours,” she whimpered as he thrusted every inch of his shaft inside of her with slow and steady strokes. 

“You’re damn fuckin’ right it’s mine,” he grunted, picking up the pace as his sloppy dick drove in and out of her.

“I love you…” she moaned as his cold chain caressed her chest. 

“I love you baby,” he pronounced back as he bit her bottom lip before gliding his tongue in her mouth. They both pulled back, their mouths parting open as they moaned in unison as he impulsively buried himself inside of her. His dick slipped out from how fast he was thrusting into her and he took the opportunity to get them both on their side, her back leaning against his glistening chest. He nibbled on her earlobe as a low grunt escaped his mouth, pushing himself back inside her with heavier strokes. 

“You like when I’m deep in this pussy baby?” he wickedly whispered in her ear. He hooked his arm under her right leg to spread open her legs wider, pile driving his dick in her as she clenched around him. 

“Yesssss daddy,” she cried out as her breasts started bouncing with how hard he was ramming into her. She felt him in the pit of her stomach as her eyes fluttered, overwhelmed with pleasure. The headboard battered against the wall  from how rough he was plunging into her. 

“Fuck baby…look at me,” he groaned. His voice blared in her ear but she was too engulfed in ecstasy to turn her head. Her heart was pounding in her chest at the same rate his thick dick was pounding into her pussy. He used the same arm that held up her leg to turn her jaw towards him.

“You gon’ milk this dick baby?” he panted as he locked eyes with her teary ones. 

“Mmmm…y-y-yes,” she choked out. Her voice was a faint whisper compared to the sound of his balls slapping against her skin blaring over it. He licked his lips as his dick spasmed from her walls contracting around his warmth. Shockwaves took over her body as she came on his dick, his own orgasm following as he thrusted himself in her one last time filling her up with every drop of his seed. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” he moaned as his hand dragged down the the back of her thigh to play with her clit to help her come down from her high. They laid there with their chests heaving as he cupped her face to bring her back to his lips, lazily and sloppily kissing her as he continued to swirl his thumb around her clit. Her legs still slightly shaking from how hard he made her cum. The sheets under them were completely soaked from their juices. He slowly slipped his dick out causing them both to moan one last time.

“Oh my god-“ she panted as she moved away strands of her hair that stuck to her forehead and face. He breathlessly chuckled pulling her closer. 

“Told you I’d murder this pussy,” he playfully gritted through his teeth against her lips, grabbing her ass causing her to grin. 

✧✧✧✧✧

thank you so much for reading! <3 I hope y'all enjoyed this halloween inspired jimmy fic 🎃😈

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[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 86)

Uzi was listening to Reida, the woman having enough energy to power a city and then some. But her voice was fading out in favor of her own internal thoughts- or feeling more accurately.

And that was the tingly sensation in her side panel, only getting worse as she continued to sit on Hal and Reida's squishy couch. Her core was pinging relentlessly, even after she'd downed the chilled oil Reida had given her.

She glanced over to where the guy's were talking, for some reason N was blushing heavily, also taking a glance at her, almost like he was nervous.

“You alright girlie?” Whoops, it seemed like Reida noticed her not paying attention, and Uzi jumped slightly, startled by her voice.

“Yeah! Yeah I'm fine. Just… core. You know.” She half-heartedly explained, and Reida gave her a soft smile. “Oh, little babe is pinging? Their about ready then.”

Uzi nodded with a half smile.

“Y-yeah, another month or so, they might actually share a birthday with their dad if we're not careful.” She sucked at small talk normally, but now it was painful. Her body was being too distracting to focus on conversation.

“Oh! How cute! Have you picked out any names yet?” Reida asked, cocking her head to the side and scooting slightly closer to hear her better.

“Ah… kinda? We don't know if their going to be a boy or a girl… but I have a couple that N likes as well…” From the way the older woman was looking at her, she could tell she wanted her to continue, so she sighed, maybe it would be a decent distraction.

“There's, Colt, Winston, and Beanie for boy names. N suggested Beanie, though I'm not sure we'd go with that one, it's a little silly.”

She paused for a moment, before starting again.

“And for girl names we have Ash, Jinx, and Naomi. I'm partial to Naomi, but N likes Jinx better, says it has more ‘Doorman Charm’.”

“Those are all wonderful names! I'm sure you'll pick the one that most suits them!” Reida cheered, and Uzi couldn't help but smile back.

“Thanks. We're trying. We haven't really decided yet, it's been so bu-SY!?” The last syllabull becoming high pitched as she felt a sudden snap in her side panel, it was slightly painful, like something had just given out under pressure.

“Uh, where's your bathroom?” She suddenly asked, an uncomfortable wet feeling beginning to seep from the underneath the panel.

“Right over there dear!” Reida pointed it out, and Uzi scrambled over to it, slamming the door behind her as she let out a strained breath.

With gritted teeth she yanked off her hoodie and tank top, both clinging to her body with how tight they were now, and threw them to the ground, she looked down at her side panel;

She was leaking…

Oil was oozing out from underneath the bottom seam of the panel, dripping a small drop onto the tile floor. With a gasp, she opened it, wincing as the area came in contact with the open air.

The port that allowed her to siphon off oil was openly weaping, the inky black lifeblood seeping out from her gently, she stuck her fingers in the fluid. It was much- much denser then normal, when she rubbed it in her fingers it hung there, stretching between them as she pulled her fingers away from each other.

What the hell?

She probably shouldn't be caught of guard by her body suddenly doing something weird anymore, but somehow she always was, and this was doubly concerning, Tera still needed oil, and if her oil was changing in any way, it may no longer be safe for her to drink.

Not that it didn't already give her the solver… but that wasn't the point.

She sighed, either way, she needed to staunch this flow before she stained everything, thankfully, there was a roll of paper towels sitting on the bathroom counter; and those would have to do.

She came out of the bathroom, re-dressed and her side feeling bulky now that it was stuffed with paper, thankfully, her core had stopped pinging and had fallen still once more, making it a little easier to focus.

She made her way over to N and Tera, tugging on his coat in a way that he knew meant she wanted to leave, he looked down curiously at her, lifting his brow.

[Leave. Talk. Important.] Displayed on her screen breifly, she was trying to resist the urge to rub her side. Ugh, why can't she just be normal!

“Oh, uh. Sorry guys, have to cut this short. Looks like Zi’s not feeling well.” She also hated being the reason they had to leave, N deserved to hang out with other people besides her! But noooo, stupid organic body!

“Say no more, I get it.” Hal smiled, Reida at his side in less then a second. “Take care son.” He slapped his shoulder with a smile.

“You're welcome back any time!” Reida gave them both massive hugs again, squishing them together with an iron grip.

“We'll be back, promise.” Uzi chimed in, she already felt bad enough for cutting this visit short, and she intended to make up for it. But, in another moment, she'd shoved N out the door and they were headed to their apartment for a little… science experiment.

Next ->

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#368

“Where are you off to?...  The mall?  Well, your friends will need to wait.  We have something to talk about. 

“I have looked after your step-dad, my brother, for his entire life, and I have gotten to know your ma just these past few years.  I trust Doyle with my life.  So when he and your ma ask a favor to have you live with me while they work out their problems, I can’t say no.  I told them that I don’t expect any problems from you.  And they assured me that you are a good boy and that you would follow my rules.  Well, after a long twelve-hour day at the job site, I want to relax with a Scotch Whisky and a nice Macanudo cigar.  Well, imagine my surprise that the bottle of Johnnie Walker, that I opened earlier this week, is well over half gone.  I know how much I drink; that bottle would last me a month and a half at least.  Care to explain?... 

“Well Vinny, don’t ever insult my intelligence again.  That is a battle you will never win.  You drank my Scotch.  Now you have to deal with the consequences. 

“C’mere!...  I said ‘Come here!’  Lay your sorry ass across my lap; you’re getting a good old fashioned ass whooping. 

“…I don’t give a shit that you turned 18 only a few months ago.  You ain’t too old to be put in your place….  Don’t you dare head to the door….

“…I told you not to underestimate me.  Hold still.  I was a state champion wrestler in High School.  I was also a cop before my heart problems.  I know how to take down a bitch like you.  Quit squirming.  Let’s get these sweatpants off you….  Going commando, hunh? 

“…What?  Don’t have something stupid to say?  It’s time for you to pay for your fuck up.  This is a nice ass.  So smooth and pale pink.  Too bad I have to welt it up.

“That’s one.  One of twenty… on each cheek.  Two…  Three…  Now this cheek.  Fuck yeah.  My hand is going to be sore for a while, but I don’t care.  Six.  Seven.  You are starting to go red here.  Boy you got a hot ass!  Ha! Literally it’s very warm. 

“Your crack needs some color….  What the fuck?  You are wet in your crack.  It doesn't stink.  Fuck!  This is lube!  What the fuck?...

“Ha! You were going commando to the mall in sweatpants and your ass is lubed up?  No, you have something lined up to get fucked.  Ha! Ha!

“And I bet…  Don’t try to fight me on this, you have enough lube here for me to easily glide in my finger… like this.  Oooh, there’s your prostate.... I can tell you are cleaned out.

“So, let’s start this conversation over.  Stand up….  I thought that’s what I felt.  Your pecker is hard from you being spanked.  Ha!  I love it.  Look I am totally fine with you being a sperm burper.  Fuck, get laid whenever you want.  So want to tell me where you were really going?

“Have a hook up?  That’s nice.  Is it from one of those apps?...  Let me see his profile….  Give me your phone….  Which app was it?...  Let me see.  This him?...  So you like 43-year-olds?  That’s cool.  I’m a little bit older than that.

“Oh, your chat with him is interesting.  Very interesting….  So you like sucking on ‘Daddy’s toes?’  This is fucking great…. Quit protesting.  I do love it… all of it.  I love that you are rock hard. 

“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.  I am rock hard too.  Yeah, I’ve played with boys before. 

“Here let me take it out for you.  Boy you got me leaking.  Grab a hold of it.  It’s a sizeable piece hunh?...  I see you licking your lips.

“Shut up….  One moment….  There!  I just sent him a message saying that you are going to be twenty to thirty minutes late because your uncle needs some help unloading some things.

“On the bed….  I don’t give a shit.  You got me hard; you are going to take care of it.  I want that red ass of yours.  Atta boy.

“Spread your legs as far as you can.  Just lay there.  I prefer when my holes don’t move around.  And if you can, don’t moan.  Just be the hole you are destined to be.

“Fuck!  It is like silk in here.  I am going to enjoy using this hole daily….  I said don’t say anything.  You live in my house with a hole I can fuck, you better believe I’m going to beat and breed this hole.  You got that?  Beat and breed.  Beat and breed.  I hope your mouth is as good as this pussy hole of yours.  If not, I’ll train ya right.

“Oh man, I’m gonna cum.  I’m gonna flood your guts.  Here it cums.  Here it fucking cums.  Get ready boy.  Uhhh!  Fuuuuuck!  Hell yeah!  Fuck!  Goddamn!  Fuck!

“Goddamn!  I love your ass.  Clamp down as I pull out.  Fuck yeah.  I can tell this isn’t your first fuck….  Don’t worry, I won’t tell your ma or my brother.  They don’t need to know. 

“Get up.  Clean me off….  What?  Look at my cock.  It needs to be cleaned up.  Get your mouth on my dick now.  Don’t question me on this….  Atta boy.  You are going to learn that living here requires you to follow my rules.  Rule one, you are getting beat then seeded when I want.  Rule two, you clean me up after yourself.  My cock rules this house and those in it.

“Ok.  Get dressed.  No, you cannot use the bathroom.  You are going to your hook up with a messed up ass, loaded up good.  If he should ask, tell him your uncle unloaded a week’s worth of baby batter in your pussy.

“Now go.  I want to hear details when you get back.  Oh and Vinny, in the future, if you want some Scotch, just ask.  Considering I’m going to beat your ass one way or the other, you kinda earned it.  Now go. 

“And take care of my babies.”

[iamlostsomewhereinthegarden]

The New Bitch

American High School Tokyo Revengers AU with a GN!Black!Reader

TW: GN!Reader, Reader wears a skirt and dress a bit feminine despite that tho, reader shows an interest in both partners, reader looks like a fucking boss ass slut and acts like one too whoop whoop! If there’s any other that I haven’t added let me know!

Walking into your new school, you already know that you’d stand out just by how you looked, not only for the color of your chocolate skin, like what happens most of the time in these stupid uppity privileged schools, but because of your style. You had a slutty punk style, a short black skirt that was mostly just for show as it covered nothing, a belt over your nipples because despite the fact that you really had nothing at all in the chest area you’ve been pestered over and over again by school staff to cover them and like hell were you actually put on a shirt that ruined your style! Either way, it still looked good on you so it didn’t matter. Organizing your new locker, the chatter in the hallways started to die down, gaining your attention and looking towards what was grabbing everyone’s attention. The popular kids walked in, the cheerleaders and the football players all looking at you because, well this person is the famed new kid they heard was coming in from one of the rumors and to them you looked,

"Weird but strangely hot." "Right man? I totally would tap that despite how odd they look!" Blowing a bubble with her game and popping it while rolling her eyes Emma, the top flyer on the team clung onto her quarterback boyfriend Draken.

"Heh, they’re barely even anything honestly, just a freak that’s a wanna be slut.” Draken nodded his head,"Yeah babe, they’re nothing special." Continuing their conversation about you and looking in your direction, they eventually reached your locker and you’ve finally had enough.

“What’s up with y’all? Want a piece of fine ol’ me?" Snorting Emma looked you up and down, though it was a bit slower than when she would usually do it to bully other girls causing a few to raise their brows,"Please like if my man would try to go for a whore like you" she sneered out trying to scare you into backing off and being under her foot. It was truly adorable though how she thought she could intimidate you, hanging off of her man’s arm, glaring as if she could do something and you wouldn’t wreck her shit, it was obvious she’s never had to experience the nonsense of black schools and almost being stabbed at random. Looking her up and down along with her man you realized that they were cute; she wasn’t a cheerleader for nothing, and damn she couldn't have picked out a cuter jock to go out with. Seeing this, you realized that this could be a great opportunity for yourself.

"Honey, you’re cute, but I don’t only love sucking on boy’s lollipops, I love tasting the bubblegum from a pretty girl’s lips too." Leaning forward, you put your lips on her's waiting for the usual gasp in astonishment before basically making out with her and taking the bubblegum from her mouth. Leaning away you smirked, chewing the gum a bit and blowing a bubble, "A little stale hun, come back another time with a fresher piece for me yeah?" Looking at her boyfriend you smirked, "Don’t think I forgot about you big boy! Both you and your little girlfriend can come for me, after all two is better than one right? " Laughing you walk away making sure that this time you were swaying your hips in your short little skirt for them to see. A hot jock and a cute little cheerleader, what more could the sexy punk bitch want?

Tags: @kisakis-boyfriend , @sna-key (if you just wanna be tagged for Souya stuff lemme know)

[chronically-ghosted]

the only thing we have to fuck is fear itself

rating: 18+

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

word count: 5309

summary: You get drunk at a happy hour and tell Max to his face you don’t find him scary at all. He takes that personally.

warnings/tags: drinking, like two seconds of scary vibes, smut, (secret) established relationship, work hard, play hard, have secret sex with your coworker even harder

a/n: I’m so sorry to FDR for butchering his quote for the sake of a title, but i like to think that horny bastard would have loved my smut.

🤍AO3 Link 🤍 Masterlist 🤍 Get notified when I post new works!

Despite working at a place that was quite literally soul-sucking, your coworkers could throw one hell of a happy-hour. 

There wasn’t a bartender in a ten mile radius from the office who didn’t know you all by name, didn’t shout a greeting over the tightly-packed house the instant you walked in. Rarely was it just a single crew member at the bars – you often got accused of moving in a pack like a five-headed hydra that could drink double its own weight in liquor, beer, and frosés – and being only two-fifths human, the Monster Squad was an alcoholic force to be reckoned with.

Maybe because you actively promoted unity amongst the species, like poster children for positive and “non-toxic human-demon relationships” HR kept encouraging in their Monday-Funday email blasts, but your little group was something of a legend in the area. You thought any notoriety was more likely due more to your faces plastered all over the bars’ trivia night winner boards, but in the office, people tended to stare. Trish, a siren from Santa Barbara, loved the attention, said it was good for her skin – gave her a “dewy” look. Nita, the only other human in your group besides you, disagreed with Ken (a quarter leprechaun on his mother’s side) when Ken claimed the whispering came from the sheer volume of nonsense that started around 4PM in the office on Fridays and continued until you all left the office. Ken was of the belief that the notoriety was actually infamy – to which he was promptly booed and had to buy the next round. 

And yet, to yourself, to the quiet conversations you had in the bathroom mirror after two long island ice teas and whatever was in what the centaur bartender at Lucky’s called an “Ass Whooping”, you suspected there might be another reason the Monster Squad even had a name at all. Within your own fields, each of you were respectable – Ken and Trish were both heads of marketing and Nita oversaw a considerable team of engineers, with you of course a department leader over in legal – one member of your group was, let’s say, more well-known. 

Well-known because he was the flashiest, the loudest, and certainly the most demonic of you all: Max Phillips, VP of sales, money-maker extraordinaire, and a fan-favorite amongst your Overlords, the rest of the sales team, and anyone with working and interested sex organs in the near vicinity. 

To your complete and utter annoyance.

You don’t quite remember how you all came together, who brought who into the group, and when it was unanimously decided that you’d stop snatching up office workers like limes at $5 margarita night after Trish, but it was Max who kept you together, who set up the group chat (somehow mysteriously gathering all of your phone numbers after a very late night), who bullied anyone who responded to his weekly “winner winner liquid dinner” texts every Friday morning with a tepid maybe into coming out that night. He already seemed to know half of the bartenders in the city, all of whom were happy to send over a free round of tequila shots as a “thank you to Max’s friends”. While you’d never look a gift vampire in the mouth, you were suspicious of his influence. Was that vampire hypnosis real? Did he have a pack of lesser, baby vamps to send out to tenderize the hunting grounds?

One thing’s for sure, he definitely didn’t scare them into it. 

“Has Halloween, like, changed for anyone else?” Nita grouched over her second Sangria Spritzer two hours into another fantabulous happy hour at Heel Clicks. The four of you were huddled into your comically small booth up on the landing near the back bar – of course there were other seats available but this had the best view, the closest access to your favorite bartender, and at some point, the shoulder-to-shoulder proximity served as a way to counteract the tipsy swaying. 

Trish leaned around Ken, her beautiful blue eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno,” Nita shrugged hopelessly. “It used to be one of my favorite holidays when I was a kid. I loved the candy, the costumes – all of it. But I really liked being scared the most.”

Ken sorted into his old-fashioned. “Well, if you’re still scared of things you were as a kid, Nit, I think you’ve got a bigger problem than seasonal preference.”

She elbows him and he knocks into Trish.

“Not like that . . . but, like, monster movies aren’t really scary anymore? I mean, I used to watch Ginger Snaps religiously around Halloween, but, uh, now that I know an actual werewolf and he’s the nicest little old man in accounting, I dunno . . . it’s just not the same.” 

“Sorry to burst your bubble on monsters,” Ken shrugged. “But I personally cannot relate. As a member of the Free Folk, my people have always been welcomed, seen as bringers of good will towards man.”

“You know there’s eight movies where a leprechaun murders literally dozens of teenagers, right?” You turned to Ken over Nita, your entire right buttcheek hanging off the edge of the booth. 

“Oh, yeah, baby Jennifer Aniston,” Trish mused, thinking. “If that’s what your uncle looks like, Ken, then I posit Halloween is still fucking creepy.”

“Halloween is definitely creepy and it sucks.” Your ringleader has returned with electric-green jello shots. Max Phillips carried a tray with one hand, his immaculate blue jacket gone to display firm forearms underneath his white, rolled-back sleeves. “Bunch up, kiddies, Daddy’s back with treats.” 

Half the group groaned, the other squealed in delight.

Max hip-bumped you, his ravenous cologne immediately making you think unwise thoughts, as he pushed his way onto the bench absolutely not made for this many people. He looked back at you as he passed out the drinks.

“Now why are we all in agreement that Halloween is a lame holiday?” 

“Nita claims that because she personally knows a werewolf – Ned, right? – she’s not scared of monster movies anymore.”

Max scoffed. “Well, there’s your problem right there. Werewolves were never scary to begin with.”

“What monster movies have you been watching?” Nita gaped at him. “Maybe it’s bad representation, but all the movie werewolves can tear you to shreds!”

Ken nodded solemnly. “This is why affirmative action is so important.” 

Trish smacked him over the back of the head. 

“So, what?” Max continued, crunching up the jello in its plastic cup. “Now that you know me, a vampire, you think all Dracula movies give blood-suckers a bad rap?”

“No, being a human-sized mosquito with too much hair gel is doing that all on its own.” You smirked, dead-eyed, at him. Behind you, Ken and Trish snorted so hard they almost spilled their drinks. 

Max narrowed his eyes at you, in a look he only gave you when you wouldn’t let him ease around legal loopholes “for the good of the business”. Only Nita seemed to be oblivious. 

“That’s a good point, Max.” She thoughtfully stirred her jello with her pinky, unsticking it from the sides of her cup. “I mean, I guess I never watched that many vampire movies to begin with.”

Max broke his heated staring contest with you to look around at Nita, elbow pressing up into your chest as he leaned forward on the table. “I can promise you, doll face, vampires have been and always will be more terrifying and lethal than werewolves.”

“Not the argument I think you want to make, mate,” Ken murmured as you shifted yourself to face Max entirely. 

“Oh, yeah? Enlighten us all –,”

“Nope,” Trish called down the row, “we’re taking this shot before you two get into it again.”

“To Ned!” Ken yelled. 

“To Ned!” 

Plastic crunched, tongues slurped, as jello ungracefully slipped into every open mouth down the bench. You licked your lip, tip of your tongue green. Max watched the movement out of the corner of his eye. 

“So, enlighten us, Max, why should we be so afraid of you?” 

Max grinned out the side of his mouth. “One, I’ve seen more bite out of a pomeranian than one of those Tribbles. And two, whatever-wolves can only get it up once a month. I’m all monster, all the time, baby.”

At this, everyone groaned.

“Dollar to the Dick Jar!” Trish smacked her hand on the table.

“Here, here!”

Max pouted as he took a dollar out of his wallet and slammed it into the center of the table, payment towards tips or the bill or whoever suffered the most due to The Dick. 

“Face it, buzz,” you shrugged as he put his wallet away. “You’re just not scary any more, if you ever were.”

“Is that right?” 

Fuck, you were in a lot of trouble. Beneath the table, his thigh soaked yours in heat. 

“That’s right.”

“You know what is really scary?” Ken muttered, digging around in his crushed up for the last remnants of jello. “Kelpies.”

“Ah – yes! They’ve got sloppy fangs covered in algae!”

“Hey – that’s my cousin you’re talking about!”

Heel Clicks was hands down one of your favorite bars in the area. Devoted to the local music scene in the area, the vibe was a mix of old 70s rock bands, modern steel, and whatever justified lots of mounted horns and hairy cow-skin stools. The drinks were great, seasonal too, and there was always live music on the patio out back. In a twist that you found particularly cool, the old rum-runners tunnels had been converted to comfortably spacious bathrooms in the basement. Behind the solid oak door, the noises from the above bar are nearly entirely muffled, making the slow descent to the bathroom something of an out-of-body experience when you’ve had a few and the sudden silence is almost an echo. 

Plus, these fucking stairs are a death trap. 

You embarrassingly clutched at the railing, the wooden stairs at far too sharp an angle even if you were sober as a judge, much less at a Monster Squad happy hour. 

Stupid Max and his stupid drinks and his –

What was that?

You stand up right on the third to last step, listening. 

In the half darkness in front of you, there are three paths available. To the left, employee storage, the lights above the door flickering, the sign reading “do not enter” pulsating in and out of visibility. To your right, another door, maybe an exit. Always unmarked and always locked every time your drunken curiosity got the better of you. 

And across from the stairs were the bathrooms, left women, right for men.

God, what year is it? Shouldn’t it all just be gender-neutral? You think to yourself, a tad bit more aggressive than you’d usually oppose the gender binary – primarily to wash out the rising concern at the back of your neck.

You are alone down here. It’s obvious. It’s not like there’s that many places for some dastardly villain to hide. Four shut doors and three hallways. Unless some maniac was curled up under the stairs, you are the only person in the basement. 

At least, the only person you can see. 

You don’t realize how sweaty your hands are until you try to continue your way down the stairs. You take a step and nearly slip, the eyes you know are on you somehow laughing. 

One blinking light. No where for anything to hide, so why are you so nervous? You are an adult woman, for god’s sakes. You make it to the floor, the most likely candidate for your demise behind you and –

The stairs creaked. 

The empty stairs that you just walked down creaked and you nearly leap across the hallway to put space between you. Heart in your throat, you make the monumentally stupid decision and call out, “hello? Is anyone there?”

As if the serial killer was just going to announce himself, give up the whole element of surprise.

Blinking through the bleary haze of too many drinks, you take out your phone and flip on the light. A white beam chases back the encroaching darkness, a frantic worried ghost peering through the gloom. And yet, like you consciously know, there’s nothing there. But the darkness feels heavier, the eerie distant noise from the bar above so quiet and removed the sound is more of a memory – the idea of what comfort and community should sound like. But it’s not. It’s too far gone – if anything were to happen, it’d be hours before they found you. If they did at all. 

“Oh my god,” you scold yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. “Get a fucking grip and go pee and then go back up those fucking stairs and –,”

Okay, that was definitely breathing.

Breathing, right behind you. Ragged, hungry, disembodied breathing, in your ear and your heart ricochets into your chest. Your own breath turns short, choppy, panic swelling into your ears, over your fingers. You think you might drop your phone, your fingers are so numb from fear, so you clutch tighter, the trembling throwing white light across the paneled wood in a craze. 

Be rational, this is crazy, there is nothing down here! 

The stairs snarl again and you squeak, all but bolting for the women’s bathroom, desperate to put at least some space between you and those fucking stairs, put some boundaries between –

The door is locked. When the fuck is this door ever locked?

Panic recedes to overwhelming rage because fuck, fuck, fuck, now you’re trapped in here – you can’t go back to the stairs – you rattle the handle, shaking the door against its lock –

“Fucking let me in!”

The light above the exit door goes out. And then the other. You throw all of your weight against the bathroom door. You claw at the handle, begging it to give way. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck – you can hear the darkness breathing –

No, speaking – it’s saying something, chanting, mocking, calling out – calling out your name –

The door suddenly unlocks and you stumble forward – into something solid –

Its hands grab you and like a fucking fool, you played right into its trap. 

It turns you, throws you up against the tile wall, its claws around your shoulders, cold tile against your cheek and you whimper. Whimper when you feel the soft pin-prick of fangs against the back of your neck – fuck, this is how it ends?? – and –

“Got you.” 

That voice.

That condescending, snide, bratty, little –

You elbow the solid body behind you and Max lets out a puff of air, staggering back. You whip around, nearly snarling in his smirking, beautiful face. The bathroom is dark, black tiled walls and floors with a faux-wooden sink and dim lights across the top of the mirror. In the flushed orange light, his eyelashes encourage thick shadows under his eyes and in the collar of his throat. If it wasn’t for that insufferable smile, he’d look painted from thin brush strokes and heavy scarlet paint. 

Caravaggio, eat your heart out. 

“Max, what the fuck was that?” 

He rolls his eyes, rubbing the spot on his chest where you hit him, at the top of his ribcage. “Oh, c’mon, it was just some fun. Saw you sneak off after you got Nita’s drink and thought I’d mess with you just a bit.”

You sigh, willing your heart to slow down, throwing your gaze to the ceiling and dropping your head against the tile.

“God, you asshole, I thought I was gonna die.” You swallow and move your hair out of your face. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I what?”

“You scared –,”

That smile, the crack of fangs across his mouth, widens, the bottom of his lip rolling back over the cut of his teeth, those brown eyes melting into a warm, obscene black, as he meets you hip first against the wall. 

His hands climb over your waist, as though daring you to hit him again, and your thigh muscles tighten. Your hands instinctively trace the exposed skin left by his opened collar at the dip of his throat when he comes closer, chest pressing up against yours, nose against your temple. 

Fuck, it shouldn’t be this easy for him. You sigh through your nose, eyes rolling shut, when he nips at your cheek.

“I think you were supposed to be mad at me.”

“I am,” you groan. “I’m livid. I’m enraged. I’m –,”

His thumb brushes your ribs – not tickling, not entirely touching, but just reminding. Reminding of the force behind his touch, behind his teeth. 

“Baby girl,” he chuckles softly, the sound running down your neck like rain, “you’re melting in my arms.” 

“This doesn’t mean I’m scared of you.” You focus on the softness of his hair between your fingers, the heat of the back of his neck beneath the pads of your fingertips – resolutely ignoring the radiating scent of his cologne coming from up under his collar. More than once had he come across you in his apartment bathroom, sniffing that bottle like some dopey perv looking for a quick fix. Of course, instead of admonishing you, he bent you over his sink and fucked the daylights out of you, his wrists singing with the smell of that cologne. Now he wore it to work wherever he wanted something from you, particularly to overlook some pesky lines of legalise. 

In the hallowed darkness of the bar’s bathroom, he drops a single kiss just below your jaw, inches beneath your ear. He grumbles when your pulse there quickens, and again his fangs find a curve of skin to press against – a reminder. 

Always reminding, always lurking, a threat without a promise.

And he knows exactly what that does to you. 

You release a full body shudder when his hands drop lower, guiding you back against the wall, fingers rounding around your thighs. Like interlocking pieces, your bodies slide together, your arms curling around his neck, the heat of his chest branding yours as it forces you against the wall. You’re breathing all wrong again, but for different reasons this time. You catch a flash of the ink-well darkness of his eyes when he nuzzles out of your neck to admire the mess he has made of your skirt.

“Can I fuck you in this or is this thing too tight?” He asks, like he specifically didn’t get on his hands and knees and beg you to wear that gray pencil skirt only twelve hours earlier. 

You lean up, snagging his bottom lip between your teeth, kissing him roughly and showing him he’s not the only one with a little bite. He groans softly, one hand curling into your hair at the base of your skull, and he licks you, from the front of your lips up to the valley of your mouth. He tastes like the sweetness of his whiskey n’ coke, his tongue rubbing the flexing muscle of yours, the sharpness of your molars. You could spend hours just sucking on his plush mouth. 

Maybe he did scare you. Maybe he should have scared you more, the threat of anyone discovering your relationship a real danger to both of your careers. Maybe it should have scared you, how little you cared about any of that when he palmed your breast over your shirt. 

You inhaled over his mouth, popping off his lips with a moan, his hand cupping you roughly as he dove in to suck marks on your neck. Every moment that passes, you feel your skin ratcheting up with heat, blood almost hot. He thumbs your perk nipple through your shirt and you arch your chest, his massive palm nearly cupping your ribs to your spine.

“Max, either you figure out how to fuck me in this skirt or you owe me a new one.”

“You want me to rip it off you?” He slurs, eyelids heavy, his thigh slides in between your knees, the fabric preventing him from going higher, to the place where you both need him. You groan in frustration and his hands squeeze your hips at the sound. “Tell me fast, baby, because I can’t–,”

“For the love of – just fucking lift it up–,” His hands fumble over yours as your fingers curl under the hem, his own want making that brilliant mind for numbers almost stupid. His warm fingers overwhelm your own as they push your skirt up your waist, and then dig around the line of your pantyhose. 

“Jesus Christ, are you trying to Fort Knox me out of your pussy? Why are there so many layers?” 

You hiss at him as you slide out of your heels and shove your nylons to the ground, hopping on one leg to take them off your feet. “It’s like you’ve never undressed me before.” 

Freed of the chaos of your underthings, Max’s hands rush to his belt, the clinking of the metal sending shivers down your back and straight up your cunt. He doesn’t notice because he’s obsessively watching your thighs. “I’ve never undressed you with our coworkers a floor above us and probably becoming increasingly suspicious about where the fuck we are–,” 

You take him by the back of the neck, hand clenching around the starch white of his shoulder. He comes to you, zipper digging into your hip bone as he pulls you up off your feet. For once that chatty mouth is quiet, open and wet with desire as he takes in your flushed face, the blood pumping under your tits. Max is nothing if not almost supernaturally consumed by the look, feel, texture, and taste of your tits. 

The look on his face is one of those reasons you tend to throw caution to the wind, why your heart almost feels too big for your chest, whenever he’s around. 

He hooks an arm around your low back, tilting your hips forward. You feel the heat of his cock somewhere below you and it takes all of your strength not to grind down. 

“Max –,” he’s not even inside of you and you’re already begging. You bite down on his ear to stifle whatever was rising up your throat. 

“Hang on, baby, I gotta make sure you . . .”

Using your shoulders as counterbalance, he holds himself up against the wet warmth of your cunt, breath stuttering as he rubs the head of his cock against your slick folds. That bratty aloofness is gone; he wants to sink so, so deep into you.

“Fuck, baby, I didn’t even get you ready – but you’re already so wet –,”

You don’t resist grinding down now and he knocks his shoulders forward, needing movement, but fighting against the urge to buck up into you, gasping from the feeling of your cunt. 

“Please, Max, just –,”

“Yeah, I know, baby, okay, just, I gotta . . .” 

He angles himself and you arch your back, unable to watch with the mess of your skirt around your waist, but he finds it, finds your opening, the place he loves to mark, and without any warning, thrusts his length up into you. 

The stretch, the surprise, the ear-ringing split between being empty and then stuffed so full – you can’t help but moan so loudly, you sing to the ceiling. For a moment, your bodies hum with the stillness, the blood in your cunt pulsating around him, you claw at his broad shoulders, need him closer, needing that smell of him that haunts your empty bed as far inside of you as his cock is. His hips stutter and he presses one hand against the tile by your ribs, teeth clenched against the sensation. 

“When I fuck you, every time feels like the first time. Every goddamn time.” 

It’s not particularly the confession it could be, but you shake your head, clearing it of anything stupid like feelings for Max Phillips, your chin brushing his jaw, his nose against your ear. 

“Then do it,” you whine. “Just fuck me, Max.”

With a groan that could be mistaken for a snarl, he lifts you both up right, pushing your hips down and spreading yourself over him. You lock your ankles around his back a second before he pulls out halfway, then to jerk back in with such force and precision your eyes roll to the back of your head. He sets a pace that has pleasure weaving a tight drum just under your stomach. Each sweaty thrust fires sparks up your spine. He really is so fucking good at this. 

This is the release you need, you both need. Sure, it’s an after-effect of having a high-powered job, but it’s also more than that. Max fucking you is unfortunately very often the highlight of your day. He knows what you need, how you need it – how hard to drive his cock into you, it makes you tongue-tied and dizzy. The fast pump of his cock, how it feels to split you apart over and over again, the back zipper of your skirt digging into your back – it’s too fucking good.

“Don’t know where you get off giving me orders,” he grunts, the pounding of his hips into yours rapidly shoving you up your ascension. The slapping, wet noise in the empty room is obscene. “I’m a fucking VP, little girl, and I–,”

You tense your muscles around his cock and he fumbles, his knees buckling momentarily. 

“Do not fucking bring up the org chart right now,” you hiss, your own edge yanked away when he stills. “I’m almost there–,” 

Quicker than he’s been all night, Max lunges forward, mouth open and teeth bare. He bites your neck and then he bites you. 

Fangs puncture your skin, not deep, but enough that your body is thrown into a messy coil of nerves and adrenaline. It knows you could die like this, even if you’ve only ever called the vampire a mosquito to his face, and triggering a self-preservation instinct, your body trembles from the sudden blast of sensation.

Your pupils dilate further than they were, your skin becomes overly aware of every drop of sweat, every flutter of hair, every rub of flesh – and your fucking nerve-endings feel like static, as if brushed by lightning. 

Pleasure so-white hot it almost burns roars up your spine, slick coating his cock inside you, and you cry out. Wail in his ear. Begging him to make it better. To give you your release. The feel of his cock pounding up inside your now-overly ripe cunt brings tears to your eyes.

“Oh, fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck – Max, p-please –,”

“Can you handle it if I touch you?”

You shake your head. “Yes, yes, please, touch me.” 

“You can’t keep screaming like that,” he scolds you breathlessly, the punch of his hips bouncing you against his cheek. For all his vampire stamina, the flush of exertion across his cheeks is truly staggering and a triumph for your ego. Flecks of blood dot his mouth. “Someone’s going to come looking.” 

“I don’t care,” you groan, angling your hips to take more of him. His hand not on your back cups under your knee, tugging it higher up his torso. His pace is relentless, overwhelming – with his weight on top of you, and his cock up under you, inside you, you’re consumed by Max Phillips. “Whatever you do, d-don’t stop. Don’t stop.” 

“You scared I’m gonna?”

“Yes,” you whine. You can feel your heart pounding out its shape into your ribs. 

“Good girl. And good girls get to fucking come.”

Balancing your increasingly limp body, he holds you up right, his hand snaking beneath your skirt, between the sweat of your thighs and his torso, and –

He thumbs that buzzing bundle of nerves, “come for me, baby”, and you do. You come screaming, the tension snapping, vision sparkling with stars, and you are shoved over the edge. You don’t know you’re wailing his name until he comes too, all concern for getting caught seemingly gone as he begs you to continue as he fills you up with his pearly, gooey cum:

“That’s right, say my name. Say my fucking name, sweetheart.” 

His hips thrust weakly, some instinct choking him until he makes sure every drop of him stays in you. You’re going to be dripping for hours. 

His skin is fire-hot beneath his starched white shirt. You’ll be thinking about that for days afterward when you see him in the hallways of the office. 

This is what scares you the most. When you realize it's over and neither one of you want it to be. 

Shaking from exertion, Max slowly sets you down, unwinding your legs from his waist, your ankles trembling against the cold tile. You couldn’t imagine putting your nylons back on, the thought of that pressure against the curve of your lower stomach while you are so full of his cum practically unbearable. 

He lifts his head from your neck, eyes intentionally avoiding you as he inspects where he bit you, breath coming in ragged, long gasps. Sweat darkens the hair at his temple and that post-fuck blush is staggeringly gorgeous on him. He pricks his thumb on the sharp edge of his fangs and with a scarlet bead balanced on his thumb, he smears his blood against the puncture wounds, like someone would wipe dirt away from a loved one’s skin. 

It doesn’t really hurt, but the effects leave your neck tingling. You’d never say this out loud, but you fucking loved when he did that. 

He steps away without looking at you, giving you time to adjust your skirt, your hair in the mirror. You help him straighten his collar because it’s not like he can use the mirror to check himself.

He grins, the flush fading far too rapidly from his cheeks. 

“What are you going to tell them?” You nod to the stairs on the other side of the wall. “This can’t look good for us.” 

“You got attacked by a werewolf on the way to the bathroom. I saved you.” 

“Thought you said werewolves weren’t scary.”

He shakes his head, smirking, then presses a kiss to your temple. “Just said I was the bigger monster between the two of us.” 

“My hero.” You turn your head until his lips drink in yours. 

It is dangerous, your feelings for him. 

He taps you on the butt, pulling away. The lines around his eyes do an excellent job of masking the hurt in the brownness of his eyes. 

“Gimme five, then you come up. Can’t have you looking so completely debauched.”

He kisses you again, betraying whatever amounted to “cool and collected” he attempted for, and without another word, he slides out the door. 

His smell lingers in the air long after he does. The throbbing of your cunt also serves as a fantastically bitter reminder.

You go back to the mirror because yes, you could not have been more obvious if you were wearing a sign that said, “hi, yes, I did just get my back blown out.” You try to fold your hair around your ears at least a dozen times before pulling it back in what you hope to be a casual pony-tail. You toss your nylons into the trash can, pleading that the “oh, I tore them in the bathroom” excuse might hold an ounce of water. 

You think about what’s waiting for you a floor up and your stomach clenches. 

Fucking Max could upset the dynamics of your little group, your little Monster Squad. Whatever the stupid office bylines were, your happy-hour social group is one of the bright spots in your life, especially while working at a place run by those bastard Overlords. 

And Max knew that. He didn’t want to risk your long-term happiness for his short-term. 

Max didn’t scare you because he was a monster.

He scared you precisely because he wasn’t.

You open the bathroom door and return to the world. 

[crappymixtape]

faking it • part one

you have to go to a wedding dateless now thanks to your ex, but somehow you make a new friend and he makes you forget all about what’s-his-face ( eddie x reader, strangers -> friends / kinda lovers )

F A K I N G I T •  P A R T O N E

🎶 you're so, milk

“Shit,” you hissed at the reflection of yourself in the mirror, pale peachy fabric of your dress wrinkling in all the wrong places. It didn’t fit at home like it did at the store and you had exactly one hour before you had to be at the venue.

Quickly rummaging through your closet you searched for something, anything else that would work. Short black mini, no. Bright red sundress, no. Horrible, weird, green bridesmaid dress from the last wedding, absolutely not.

Groaning you kept flipping through hangers one after the other, lump in your throat growing, anxiety slipping around you tightly, so damn frustrated and angry and wanting to just crawl under your covers and eat ice cream.

Maybe you’d be fine if shit hadn’t hit the fan a few weeks prior. A few weeks before your best friend’s wedding. Maybe it’d be okay if your now ex-boyfriend hadn’t been a complete asshole. Maybe going to an event with everyone from high school would suck less if you weren’t going alone now, but you weren’t going to let him ruin it. You wanted to be there for your friend, had to be there for her, and then suddenly your eyes landed on it.

A pretty yellow thing. Like buttercups and the color of the sky as the sun rose in the wee hours of the morning and when you slipped into it you felt yourself come back. Felt the lump in your throat soften, a small smile pulling up at the corners of your lips.

You looked good and dammit you were going to have a good time.

Heels were a guarantee you’d fall within the first five minutes of arriving and you certainly weren’t trying to impress anyone, so you grabbed your Chucks out from under your bed, touched up your mascara and hurried out the door with your gift under your arm.

It was a perfect day, not too hot, not too cold, and the venue was gorgeous. Nestled in the forest outside of Hawkins, there were little tables and a dance floor and a beautiful arch draped with flowers and greenery, ready for the bride and groom to say ‘I Do’ and you lingered for a bit by the gift table, taking it all in.

People were milling around, talking and catching up and you tried your best to look interested in the vases at the end of each row of chairs. Picked at the burlap covering the guestbook table. Wandered off a little further than everyone else so that maybe you could avoid questions.

“Where’s your man?”

“You gonna be up there next?”

“He better not wait too much longer to ask!”

It worked for a little while until you heard the conversation grow louder near the bar. A few gasps, a couple of whoops, whispers. It pulled your gaze and when you looked up you thought you were going to be sick.

Your ex.

With Penny Arnold on his arm.

Fussing over him and straightening his tie and pressing kisses to his cheek and clasping his hand in hers as she gushed to the people who’d greeted them.

“Penny, you look incredible!”

“Oh my god, your dress is gorgeous!”

“I didn’t know you two were seeing each other!”

Your heart hammered in your chest, panic squeezing you tight, breaths falling quick and stuttered from your lips and you had to leave.

Despite being out in the middle of nowhere, the forest felt like it was closing in around you as you dug in your purse for your keys until the sound system scratched with a voice.

“Hello, all! If everyone can please be seated, Steve and the beautiful bride are ready to get started. You’ll find your name on your chair, so get settled and don’t be shy! Make a new friend on this wonderful day of celebrating love!”

Your stomach lurched. Too late. Everyone would notice. And did you really want to miss this? Your best friend’s wedding? Taking in a deep breath you tried to slow your heart rate, tried to calm down. It was going to be okay. Just get through the ceremony and then you could go.

Ducking your head you quickly glanced at each of the seats, eyes scanning the assigned seating and praying to god that they’d remembered to move you away from him, your ex.

Please, please, please.

Your heart was racing as you walked along the rows of chairs, eyes frantically searching for your name. They had to have moved you and finally you found it near the back on the end. The perfect hiding spot out of view behind a bunch of other people and when you saw E. Munson next to you instead of J. Carver you let out a breath of relief, not realizing you’d been holding it.

“So, new friends, huh?”

A voice over your shoulder made you jump a bit and you turned quickly, coming face-to-face with someone very much not dressed for a wedding.

He was tall and a little lanky with long brown curls and even longer lashes. A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Wide and warm and friendly. Dimples pinching into his cheeks and eyes all brown sugar and cinnamon and your heart stuttered in your chest.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he rubbed at the back of his neck, looking over at you through the long sweep of his lashes and you felt yourself melt.

“S’alright,” you tried to recover, tucking a stray lock of hair out of your face, smile pulling at your lips when you finally took in his outfit. Black jeans, black boots, and a black t-shirt with a tuxedo printed on the front, “Nice suit,” you teased, smile growing a bit.

“Oh, this old thing? Yeah, had to get it dry cleaned. Was pretty wrinkly,” he played along and your smile shifted into a grin. He was funny.

“What’s the E stand for?”

“Edward,” he said, all mock-finery. Poking fun at prim and proper as he pretended to adjust the tie printed on his shirt, smirking as he jammed his hands into pockets. “Joking, please don’t call me that,” he said with a small laugh and you bit your bottom lip between your teeth, cheeks hurting from smiling so much already. “It’s Eddie. Or Eds. Or Munson I guess, if I get into trouble. I smoked in my van on the way over, but might need to sneak off later–” he winked at you conspiratorially and your stomach flipped over, “–not gonna rat me out, are you?”

“Oh god, no,” fell out too quickly and you felt a blush creep across your cheeks. “I mean–secret’s safe with me,” and you twisted your fingers over your lips and threw away an invisible key.

“Knew you were a good one,” his grin softened, reaching down to pick up your name cards from both chairs. “We’re probably gonna get yelled at if we don’t sit down. Carol Harrington seems sweet, but seriously. Don’t fuck with her,” his expression shifted quite serious and your eyes grew wide as you quickly took your seat.

“Really? She looks so nice,” you stole a glance up toward the front at Steve’s parents, his mom already holding a handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes.

“Oh yeah. Been chased outta her pool more than few times,” Eddie shook his head and sat next to you, kicking his feet up on the chair ahead of him. You caught the scent of leather and patchouli, a little skunky like weed and something softer. Maybe rosemary or lavender and it made your cheeks warm again.

“Note to self, don’t mess with Carol,” you quietly teased as the guests settled and Eddie shot you another grin.

“Exactly,” he whispered back and for a split second Eddie gave you the gift of not thinking about your ex, not even once, and it felt really, really nice.

The ceremony was gorgeous of course. Everyone laughed when Dustin came down the aisle as flower girl, somehow perfectly scattering his little basket of flower petals. Steve cried a little bit when he read his vows, but all the while with a big smile on his face and your friend was beautiful. Stunning. So happy and in love as she and Steve walked past you after the ceremony, and while you wanted to leave, avoid your ex and get out of there, you knew you couldn’t. Not now.

This? Right now? Was for your friend and, more importantly, you had to figure out how in the hell you were gonna make it through the rest of the damn night.

“Heard they got ice cream instead of a cake.”

“What?” your eyes flicked up to see your new friend, tuxedo shirt on full display and that wide warm smile turning your insides to goo.

“My money’s on Harrington playing it safe and not smearing it all over her face, what d’you think?” he asked, smile shifting mischievous, dimples pinched into his cheeks and the way you grinned back made you feel like an idiot.

All of a sudden the rest of the evening didn’t feel so daunting.

“How much money?” you teased and he took on a thoughtful expression, eyes crinkling at the corners as he hummed.

“Don’t make a habit of taking money from nice girls, but–” he winked and your heart stuttered in your chest, “–ten bucks? And loser has to take a shot.”

You stuck a hand out. Lips firmed into a line. Trying to be serious and trying to play along but you weren’t good at holding it like Eddie was and had to drop your gaze so your smile wouldn’t give you away. “Deal,” you half-laughed.

But then his hand was taking yours, squeezed tight, rough callouses on his fingers brushing across the back of your hand and you felt your cheeks warm. Swallowed against the way your heart leapt and when he let go an ache bloomed in your chest.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured, still grinning at you, “I’ll take a shot in solidarity.”

Your mouth fell open, mock offense, music filling the space around you as the bar opened up, “Think you know Steve that well?”

Eddie huffed, pushed air through pursed lips and shook his head, curls bouncing with the movement, “Oh yeah, without a doubt.”

“Okay, hot shot,” you teased, “Hope you like tequila.”

“Ah, shit. I really thought you’d be more the whiskey type–“

“–always tequila. Espolòn, blanco,” another voice cut in and the sound filled you with dread.

Pulled at your insides and threatened to drag you down into the floor. Made your arms feel like they were full of lead and every tiny bit of relief Eddie had poured into you emptied out like water through a sieve.

Your ex.

“Who’s your date?” Jason asked you, appraising Eddie all aloof and unsatisfied as he fingered the bright gold cuff link on the sleeve of his suit jacket.

You choked on your words, felt them die in your throat as you tried to put yourself back together and stand up for yourself, but then Eddie’s hand was at your waist. Tugging you in close and holding you tight to him as he gave Jason a certified shit-eating grin. All show and bravado and confidence.

“Eddie,” he said simply, tone assertive enough to make Jason’s brows lift ever so slightly and he chuckled under his breath.

“Interesting choice of outfit, Eddie,” Jason dumped emphasis on the other man’s name, eyes shifting sharper, sucked on his teeth and turned back to you. “Hope you enjoy yourselves,” he sneered, propping up a fake smile as he flicked his gaze back to Eddie, “But careful with this one, Ed. She can be a little…messy.”

Your face burned, heart pounding against your rib cage, anxiety gripping you like a vice as his words hit you like truck.

A mess.

A fucking mess.

“You’re embarrassing me! Crying at a party, Christ.”

“Embarrassing you?? Jesus, Jason. What d’you want me to do? Go give her a hug and say, ‘Oh my god, Penny. Hope my boyfriend was a good fuck!’?”

“That’s not the point, I–”

“Not the point–I literally just caught you, my boyfriend, pants down in the bathroom with someone else. And it’s not even the first time!”

“You drink too much, blow everything out of proportion and get on my ass about shit and–”

“Wha— I do it, it’s overreacting, but if you do it it’s ‘just a little fun.’”

“I’m done with this. It’s obvious you can’t handle me. You’re a fucking mess.”

A mess.

“Ah,” Eddie clicked his tongue and pulled you even closer. “We’re all a little messy, man,” and then he leaned in toward Jason, “I’d say you hide it well, but the fuck-you look on your face really gives it away.”

The color drained from Jason’s face, mouth hung open and scrambling for a come back, but he wasn’t quick enough and instead made a strangled sound of departure before turning and walking away.

Eddie’s expression softened and you felt him press his hand to your waist, silently reassuring, and he dropped his gaze down to look at you. “You okay?” he asked gently, big brown eyes searching yours, the wide expanse of his hand warm and steady and holding you together.

“Shit,” you cursed quietly, squeezing your eyes shut and willing yourself to not let it get to you. To tell yourself it didn’t matter anymore and that there was a reason he was your ex and he and Penny deserved each other and–

“Here,” Eddie took your hand and pressed it to his chest. Placed it over the cracked and faded carnation printed on his shirt. Pushed gently at your hip and started up slow steps in time with the song playing through the speakers. Smiled at you soft and sweet and chased Jason’s words from your mind. “Hm?” he hummed in question, brows quirking up a little, “Better?”

You huffed a small laugh and looked down at your feet. Black Chucks. Black boots. Slivers of skin peeking through the rips in Eddie’s faded black jeans. Your buttercup yellow dress a flash of color you wouldn’t normally wear, but it felt nice right now. Just like Eddie’s hand felt nice on your waist.

Pulling your gaze back up to him you tried a smile. “Better,” you admitted, lifting your other hand to rest on his shoulder. “Where did you even come from, Eddie Munson?” you asked, a mixture of gratitude and bewilderment, searching those big, brown eyes of his and Eddie’s smile widened.

“Forest Hills Trailer Park, baby,” he grinned, giving you another little wink before sobering a bit, fingers shifting lightly on your waist, “Nah. I dunno. Who cares about where you came from. You gotta decide where you wanna be.”

Where you wanna be.

Where did you want to be? Quite frankly the last three weeks had you second-guessing everything you’d wanted. Had you feeling like someone had put your life in a blender and spat it back out all over the floor.

A mess.

Jason had wanted to stay in Hawkins. Took the assistant Basketball coach job at the high school and so you stayed too. Tried to open your own boutique. Tried to save up for a place of your own and wanted so badly to put the pieces of this future together, but it was like putting a square peg in a round hole.

Yes, you’d loved him, why else would you have stayed? But as each little argument unraveled you felt yourself growing further and further apart. The tiny voice at the back of your mind screaming at you to leave this shitty little town. Go to the city and open your studio there. Explore and get away from all of this and be who you really wanted to be.

And even though you still felt like your heart was in a million little pieces there was this guy. This sweet, funny, smart ass, witty-as-hell guy standing up for you and dancing with you and smiling at you and somehow helping put your heart back together.

“Where d’you wanna be?” you finally asked him, hand still pressed to his shoulder as he turned you around the dance floor.

“Hm,” he mused quietly, mulling things over, a small pinch between his brows appearing as he thought. “Philly? Chicago? Hell, anywhere but here,” he finally said, his non-decision making him chuckle a little as he looked back down at you. Eyes warm and hazy like whiskey, lashes fanning out across his cheeks.

God, you were pretty. And funny. And quick on your feet and shit he felt like an idiot before he even opened his mouth.

“Hey, listen. You wouldn’t wanna–” he started, but then shook his head, “–nah. Shit. Forget it.”

“No, now you have to tell me!” you insisted, pausing mid-dance, and Eddie could feel the heat creeping across his cheeks and up to his ears.

“It’s dumb, you wouldn’t want to–”

“–try me,” you cut in, grabbed his hand again and it pulled the corner of his mouth up into a lopsided smile.

“D’you wanna get outta here?” he asked, your insistence making him feel a little braver, a little bolder, and it lit a fire in your chest.

Biting your lips between your teeth against a smile you nodded at him, feeling silly, feeling excited, his hesitations all but gone at the look on your face.

“Seriously?” he asked, just to make sure, and it pulled a laugh from you.

“Only if it’s to that shitty diner off the highway,” you teased a little and it made him grin, dimples pinching at his cheeks, his brown eyes glinting with just a tiny bit of mischief and it made your stomach flip over.

“Deal,” he agreed, grin still playing on his lips and when he took your hand and led you back out down the gravel path and away from the party you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so light.

crappymixtape™ • eddie munson masterlist // stranger things masterlist

[inthedreamatorium1]

I’ve been thinking a lot about Colin’s entrapment line and wrote a novel about it, whoops.

I know a lot of people are upset about it. On the surface level, it seems so out of the blue because HE was the one who suggested he help her find a husband. HE was the one that invited her over without a chaperone. HE was the one who kissed her when he knew he shouldn’t. HE was the one who kissed her a second time and initiated their first sexual encounter. So yeah, that line seems so out of character given all of this.

But then I started thinking more about it and dug a little deeper. This line comes after him saying he was a man of honor and acknowledged they had sex. He knows there are consequences there (ie. pregnancy). He knows he didn’t pull out because in that moment, there was no reason for him to do so. They were going to be married. Her winding up pregnant from that encounter wouldn’t matter in the long run because why would it?

Colin is SO angry and hurt and confused (rightfully so). Of course his mind is going to think the worst and in that moment, it did. He has spent days running over every single interaction and conversation they’ve had. He’s doubting everything. Her sincerity, her friendship, her respect, her love. Every single one of us would do the same thing. He sees himself as a protector first and foremost. So yes, he let himself think that Penelope purposefully had sex with him knowing that he would be obligated to marry her, no matter what. He let himself think she was using him and his family to protect herself from any harm if the truth came out. He knew that she knew he would never break their engagement and so yeah, he thought the worst. I mean, why wouldn’t he?

Do I think he regretted it? No, not in that moment. I think he still felt that way until they met on the street. He’s still very hostile with her (rightfully and understandably so)“What were you thinking? Why would you write these things about me and my family?” She pushes back and he finally listened to her. Not just her words but her sincerity and the way she didn’t justify any of her actions. How she apologized for it and acknowledged she was wrong. He listened.

Penelope exclaiming loudly and passionately that she loves him dissolved all of the negative thoughts he was feeling in regards to her trapping and using him. His biggest fear snapped in half. The torment he was feeling that it was all a lie dissipated. It’s why he grabbed her and kissed her so passionately. I’m sure a lot of it was relief. He was never that harsh with her again. Yes, he was still angry but he never doubted her intentions nor her love for him again. His conflict for the rest of the episode going into episode 8 was trying to sort out his place and role in her life and trying to come to terms with his feelings of inadequacy and insecurity.

So yeah, the entrapment line sucks and can be read as out of character given everything that’s happened in the previous episodes. But I think we need to allow him the grace to process everything he’s been feeling. Penelope did.

[thatonelightyear]

Piston Cup Racers Hcs (i lost track which part alr... Travel edition!)

Ill just do the cars 1 trio first because i am sleepy and this is too long but i havent done hcs in so long and id rather do this than any work so.

Strip Weathers

Honestly? Wants to take Lynda out to a fancy restaurant and just spend time with her, or even go admire the scenery together.

Very chill. Does not over or under pack at all, somehow.

Will, however, end up talking for a couple of hours to some random strangers about racing, somewhere.

This normally happens when Lynda is shopping- but only on occasion

Sticks to his wife like his life depends on it (because it does. he sucks at navigating)

Tries to experience as much of the culture as possible!

So. damn. polite. No one can get angry at him for trying wrong.

Can probably master an accent within a week with some unseen talent

Likes the freedom that comes with not being recognised a lot (im going off this that like outside of usa ppl don't know much about nascar and so this applies in carsverse to the piston cup like everyone knows its there but like. not intimately familiar)

Makes the most of it, but hates the plane rides

Chick Hicks

Shopping. Bro can never get enough of shopping and it is an issue (for his finances? yes. for his ego? nah.)

Will probably get drunk at least 3 times while sampling the local alcohol (not so much of 'sampling' more of taking shots :skull:)

Preens at every opportunity he gets recognised, probably- (yes.)

lowkey brings the 'other countries are cool but my own country is better' vibes. but only because he hates being left out of conversations and god damn it is annoying when he can't understand jack shit of what everyone else is saying

therefore he tries to go to english-speaking countries as much as possible

would taste-test the cuisine and make a rating for every. single. meal.

gets lost in the airport, nearly misses his return flight. barely makes it though

business-class traveller. will probably start talking to the person next to him VERY loudly and with no regard

Lightning

I mean come on we've all watched cars 2

As polite as can be (i have to be a good representative of USA racers-)

Still manages to get at least 2 speeding tickets every time he travels

Packs too much, paranoid something will happen he's not prepared for like you never know

souvenirs!! and definitely buys doc a fridge magnet from every trip. doc keeps them all on the fridge, but never talks about it unless forced to

'oh sally would like this'

if he buys anything, it'll probably be some nice clothes for himself - man's got a decent fashion sense

makes a joke and realises everyone else probably don't understand. whoops.

visits archeological sites if there are any! (a huge history nerd. especially for his dinosaurs hehe)

[monstersinthecosmos]

I know you probably don’t want to dwell on the show and the negative but I absolutely hate what has happened on here and how hateful people are in the VC fandom it’s just very demoralizing and makes me want to retreat from anything besides the books completely. The discourse was spicy before the show but everything is just even more divisive now and it has sucked the fun out of it. Not really an ask more of a vent sorry

Hi there!

You’re correct that I don’t particularly find it fun to dwell on the negative stuff – as you said yourself, SOMETIMES THE DISCOURSE SUCKS THE FUN OUT OF IT. But I do understand how you feel and I want to say a couple things and I hope this helps you find a groove.

First of all, I did my best not to acknowledge it too much because I didn’t want to validate the folks who were being cunts to me lol, but please know that this fandom (at least on Tumblr) has ALWAYS been kinda fucking violent towards me LOL. I started VC tumbling back in 2016 and it’s ALWAYS been a fucking trash fire. It is hard out there for Marius stans lmfao.

Like, when I was first posting on Tumblr and acclimating to the Tumblr culture it was so much of like, me feeling brave enough to share meta only for someone to be RB’ing me to tell me I’m wrong, or me talking about how much I liked something about Marius only for someone to vague me, or it was me hosting the huge fandom Discord back in 2017 only for people to then come on tumblr and complain about how the Discord was way too Marius Friendly as if like, a drama-free space where we can discuss the books makes it a harbor for predators.

Of course I also had the gaggle of fucking morons who were constantly stalking me, catfishing their way into my servers to try to take screenshots and write call outs and cancel me, who would not stop preaching about how “all these big blogs” are “actually such terrible people” because “look at the things they ship” even when I’d never been unkind to them, even occasionally donated to their GFMs. These are folks who think they’re morally in the right for protecting the virtue of Armand’s poor teenage asshole and executed this justice by stalking and harassing an ACTUAL PERSON LOL. Like, listen. I’m sorry to burst ur bubble, but Armand doesn’t exist. He’s letters on a paper. I’m actually a real person and you’re up my fucking ass because I don’t’ even fucking know why, you’re jealous of my fucking Tumblr engagement or something? Which one of us is actually the creep here lol?? Is this a race to the bottom to be the valedictorian of clown school on the website for homeschooled clowns?

I’ve also had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of acephobic discourse, being told I don’t do enough to protect every individual in fandom from their own bullies as if it's my job to do that, being called ableist for how I wrote Daniel in my fics even though I was projecting and discussing my own personal experiences – I’ve also had a project collaborator have a tantrum and try to steal my work until I had to threaten with legal action, I’ve been put on block lists, I’ve had many people consume my fics in secret without actually leaving comments because I’m too toxic for them to communicate with in public.

BLAH BLAH BLAH.

This was all before AMC showed up LMFAO. It was not easy for me! It’s still not always easy!

And so yeah like, by nature of the fandom EXPLODING we are going to see more drama. More people is more drama. The nature of the discourse often hedges into real life issues that people are very opinionated and passionate about and there are conflicting needs inside the same space about how to hold conversations. Even just the other day I RB’d a joke about Anne Rice and OP got upset with me because they didn’t want actual fans interacting with it. Whoops! I didn’t know! I just thought it was funny. ;.;  

Even in good faith and with the best of intentions we’re going to step on each other’s toes, and we’re gonna find people we don’t vibe with. And that’s normal and it’s fine.

What ISN’T normal is this inability to disengage that I think we see often in online space, and I don’t want to get into a whole side essay about all the reasons why I think that happens. But sometimes you gotta be the bigger person and take it on the chin.

Like, yeah, it sucks. It sucks the fun out of the room when you share a space with such bitter people who can’t be kind to each other. But like. THAT’S A THEM PROBLEM, YOU KNOW? And I think we gotta remember that sometimes people like that do it for the attention or the spike of dopamine when they can pick a fight and honestly like, you don’t need to waste YOUR OWN time on it, but you’re also doing that person a kindness if you don’t enable the bad behavior.

And it sucks that Tumblr’s mute tools are awful!!!!! It would make navigating so much easier to be able to curate the dash a little better and keep the bad actors out of your space. I sometimes just fuck off and don’t even come online for days if I know I’m not in a good headspace and won’t have the strength to just fucking ignore it, because sometimes drama catches my eye and I get nosy and go down the rabbit hole, too – having ADHD makes it really hard to avoid sometimes LOL – but like I try to be reasonable and love myself enough to avoid it when I can help it. I’m not willing to make my own problems everyone else’s problem, and I hope that some of these shit starters in fandom will get there, themselves.

So yeah it blows when the vibes are fucking atrocious, and it REALLY blows when it’s a fandom this small where you can’t avoid it. Even when it’s a vocal minority it really just kills the fucking mood.

BUT WHAT I WILL SAY.

Whenever I say shit like “write what you want to read” and we’re talking about fanfic, or even meta or even silly headcanon posts or jokes, that also means draw what you want to see, it also means make what you want to hold, apply it to any creation you can think of. Put the thing you want to see into the world. And it counts for fandom, too.

I don’t want to be part of a fandom that’s constantly infighting and attacking people, so I don’t fight and attack people. I don’t want to be called a predator for being a Marius fan and so I don’t engage in posts that say as much, not even to argue, because I don’t want my followers (who might also be Marius fans!) to have to see that on their dash. I want us to protect our peace and create a space we want to be in.

Like I have a policy that any time someone says I’m a freak or any time I see truly godawful word salad discourse, I go out of my way to post something kinky and offputting about Marius LMFAOOOO  because I want to be surrounded by reasonable fun people who share my sensibility for fiction. AND SOMETIMES IT’S CRICKETS, AND SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO WORK HARD TO FIND YOUR PEOPLE. But at the end of the day I know I’m being my most sincere self and I’m trying to have a good time and just post fun things that I enjoy. And like, the book fandom is small as fuck and we’re all famished, but I think if more of us did that, we’d build a much more productive and tolerant space.

And for all the shit I’ve mentioned, all the drama and attacks and all the times people have harassed me or tried to make me feel small, you know what? I just got back from @apoptoses & @cup-of-lixx 's wedding and they met in VCblr! We spent all week with our VCblr friends! We all went to New Orleans together last Halloween !

When I used to work on ships it was like a fandom friend world tour! I had so many coffees in port with my vampire friends!

I’ve learned so much about writing from all the time I’ve spent here and the community of writer friends who supported me! There’s folks I met on VCblr that I talk to LITERALLY every day! They are such huge parts of my life and genuine life-long friends!!!!!!

Sometimes it seems like the ROI is garbage but like, so much of finding the joy is also learning to protect yourself from the negativity.

It IS out there. It DOES suck. And it’s lonely when you haven’t found your people yet. But fandom doesn’t have to be the 500 angry assholes arguing with each other about a fucking TV show, it can be your 3 besties in a private group chat having a great time.

Like I just drove @hekateinhell to the airport (met THROUGH TUMBLR!) and on the way back I was listening to an episode of Last Day and they were discussing the concept that “community is a life raft” and it hit me so hard man!!!!!!!!!!!

Find your people! Block the shit starters! Mute discourse buzzwords that you know are going to upset you!

Keep! Posting! What! You! Want! To! See!!

Fandom is self-generating, we can do this!

My inbox is always open and BELIEVE ME I have been motherfucking persona non grata in this place before and I know how rancid the vibe can be so please come talk any time it's grinding you down, I got you!!!!!!!!!!!!

[commander-rahrah]

REALLY???!!! I wouldn't have sent this idea if I knew you're planning to use it for your fic! I'm sorry about that! You're welcome!

Here's my idea that I would love to hear your opinion! Just to let you know this is quite self-indulgent XD How would Astarion react to GN! Reader/Tav offering their blood... despite hating being pierced/cut/poked? Like they hate the idea of even a needle poking lightly them that it doesn't bleed 🤣

What do you think of it? I'm curious :3

Don’t apologize!!! You had no way of knowing (: I am excited to get to that part in the Talking to the Moon though, and if you read it I hope you enjoy it!

In regard to this concept, I definitely think this is interesting!! This is kinda long and ranty again ahah whoops.

Anyways, I think this concept is so interesting — especially when you consider Astarion learning about his own boundaries. I feel there is so much emphasis on reader/Tav respecting his boundaries, so him coming to terms with theirs would be so interesting.

Especially if the reader/Tav went through with the first night of letting him feed. Maybe in the moment, Astarion didn’t recognize the shakes and tremors as something negative/fear. He was just so lost in his first feeding he failed to recognize it.

So then if you offered yourself/blood up again to him? I think the shame would double for him. Maybe he would even start comparing himself to his old master — wondering how he manipulated you into this. That despite your clear fear or hatred of the sensation that you still offered yourself up for more. Like you had to. Just like he did all those years gathering more victims for Cazador by any means necessary.

If it is early days between the two of you, I think he would playfully reject your offers to avoid it. Like, “Oh I already had my fill with goblins and cultists today, darling” or “I think I’ll spare that pretty neck of yours of any further marks”. I think he would be too ashamed of himself, and also too afraid to have such a vulnerable conversation just yet.

But once you two were more established, like post confession, and you offered again, I believe Astarion would feel safe enough to bring it up/confront you about it. I feel like he would bring up that he could sense your hesitancy, fear, hatred of the sensation. That he couldn’t bear to get you to do something you didn’t want. Not again. He didn’t want to become a trauma or phantom pain for you like the unwanted/forced touches he dealt with for 200 years. Not when you had done so much for him already, and become so important to him.

If you agreed that it was too much, Astarion would respect that. Autonomy and personal choice may be a new concept to him, but it is one he would fiercely advocate for everyone, not just himself.

If you told him that you still wished to let him feed, I think he would need more reasoning as to why... And if you explained it was because you care for him, trust him, love him more than you fear or hate the sensation — I believe Astarion would agree BUT only if you set boundaries and ground rules like you had with him in regards to physical intimacy and sex.

Side note: this is kinda unrelated but also not — all I can imagine is reader accidentally pricking their fingertip on something and letting out a little gasp. And before they can freak out Astarion just sucking the tip of your finger so gently before placing the tiniest kiss on it. “There — all better.” And you would be so distracted from the sensation of his lips and his proximity and just him, that you would forget all about your fear.

Thanks for the ask anon! I appreciate these messages, it’s so fun putting Astarion and Tav/Reader in all these different scenarios hehe 🤍

[dragonagecompanions]

Why do you think Varric made the Inquisitor a Comte? Wouldn’t that make them outrank him? Dumar seemed pretty powerless and I always thought that Varric got shoved in the rule to make him in charge of the recovery of Kirkwall but not actually of Kirkwall?

Sweet gentle anon, I know it was not your intention but you have stumbled into one of my favorite conversational topics and I hope you are ready for the fall out.

Welcome, children, to Fereldone talks about Thedas' Geo/Theopolitical bullshit!

(tl:dr at the bottom)

So, very important things to know going in: Kirkwall's political history is weird. Founded by the Tevinter Imperium in -620 Ancient (which is DA equivalent of BC/BCE, or the time before the ages ascribed to history by the chantry), it was a mining city. After a slave tried to kill the Archon the Magisterium decided they needed to start importing- and presumably breaking the will of- slaves farther from the heart of the imperium and thus the City of Chains gained purpose.

I could throw a lot of facts and names at you, but here's the basics-- it housed millions of slaves over hundreds of years, at the end of the ancient age they rebelled and overthrew it. Kirk means black in Alamarri, the stone they mined there was jet black, and so Kirkwall (black walls) becomes a Free city. It suffered during the fourth blight in the Exalted Age (fifth age, for those keeping score at home), was conquered by the Qunari in the Storm Age (seventh age) and was then conquered by the Orlesians. Orlais was on a roll with the whole 'we own everything whoops killed your ancestral leaders', but in the Blessed age (eighth age) the people retaliate and overthrow the empire to regain independence.

For reasons I can only assume are laziness and a desire not to change all the paperwork, the leader of Kirkwall is still referred to by the Orlesian word Viscount/Viscomte. Bear with me, this is important later.

We are now in the early dragon age (9th age, and when Inquisition happens). The first two rulers of free Kirkwall sucked. Basically they blockaded their own port and made people pay a fortune to get in and trade. This didn't sit well with the Chantry, who would much rather do that themselves, and in 9:14 Divine Beatrix II (later saved by Cassandra!) tells the Templars to strong arm him into submission talk some sense into the viscount.

The knight commander is killed in the exchange, and so his second command Meredith Stannard steps up to try her hand at negotiations. It goes poorly, so she arrests and jails the Viscount and essentially takes control of the city with full Chantry approval. Now the Templars are essentially in control of the city, and so they appoint a puppet leader (Dumar) to play act in control. But Meredith is actually in charge, and everyone knows it.

Including Elthina, who named her Knight Commander. This is why the Chantry never actually does anything about templar abuses.

So! If you are still with me, this is where Viscount becomes important. There are some wibbly bits about how you treat Sebastian Vael in DA2, but essentially Kirkwall decides that it's time to be an actual city state and not a poorly run Theocracy. As the only man with a plan (and the money and influence to do it), Varric steps in to help his home town. Ecstatic at not being responsible for that, the nobles (comtes) band together and put him in charge.

So while yes, in Orlais Viscount be beneath comte, Kirkwall has been so broken up and conquered and messed with over the years that names and titles are meaningless. In my personal opinion, Varric ennobles the inquisitor so that they will always have a staunch ally amongst the backbiting Kirkwaller nobles. It's also a nice and generous a decent thing to do, of course, but Varric is very good at making something do a lot of things for him all at once.

(Also, Varric knows exactly what that key does. He just ensured that someone smart enough and invested enough in peace will always be able to either open or close the harbor--making sure that the people who depend on him will be safe no matter what.)

Personally, the Trespasser epilouge is useless. It's the result of not having a head writer to review things, and the sweet but misguided attempt to give us closure if DA4 never happened. Hawke doesn't come back to Kirkwall. They are in Weisshaupt (if not in the Fade), and that plotIine will likely be in the final game. The Inquisition in whatever form it still has will be heading north, possibly with Kirkwall as an operating base, and this way the Inquisitor (who is confirmed to not be playabe in DA4) will have a reason to be there and not in Tevinter.

That's my read, anyway.

tl;dr Kirkwall has weird history that led to odd ways of organizing their nobility, Varric wants friends in places almost as high as him, shit's going down in the north and I think the inquisitor will be in Kirkwall so the writers needed a reason to put them there.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

Mod Fereldone