#if everyone searched for one home then i would have so many options!

[jazzzzzzhands]

Hey!

So we lost our home in the hurricane!

We are currently doing well and living for free in a hotel!! 😁

BUT

it won't last forever.

We only have 73 days left to live for free.

We are looking for a home

Can you help me search for a home?

I'm looking for a 3 bed 2 bath around the Brandon area in Florida.

We could really use 1000 or less a month

Preferably less

I want a home 🩷

I would appreciate any help you could give me.

You have always been so kind and helpful to me and I treasure you!!!🩷🩷🩷

To everyone!!

Love, Jazz🩷🩷🩷🍎🍎🍎

[puppiesareperfect]

Book binding 101: Materials

I’ve decided to do a series of posts on how to book-bind since I talk about it a lot, and I think it’s a really fun process. This post will include various inexpensive alternatives to “professional” supplies, many of which you will have at home. Not everyone can afford a cricut and that’s ok! I will also be listing more expensive materials for people who want to invest a bit more into the craft, but they absolutely are not a must.

This first post will focus on a list of supplies you can use to make books, but will not yet get into the instructional part of it. That will come later!

Anyway…

Bookbinding Materials: Essentials

These are items you need to bind, but many you can find around your house!

Sewing thread: Any thread will work for bookbinding, though waxed threads can help reduce tangles. You can also double up thread as another way to prevent tangling if you so choose. Waxed thread is definitely more expensive, so it can be good to use what you have starting out. Here’s a link to the waxed thread I used for those that are interested. You can buy it in a lot of different colors! (White is good if want an “invisible” thread).

Sewing needle: A lot of people say to use a curved needle for binding, but I’ve never found it to be much different from using a regular needle. If you have one, I would recommend a larger needle, however, since it’s better for piercing through signatures (aka the stacks of pages you bind together). In other words: there’s no special needle you need to bind books.

Ruler: I’d recommend any metal ruler since it’s better to use as a straight edge for cutting. There’s a good chance you already have one. It’s just used for measuring and being a straight edge. Nothing fancy.

Paper: Any paper will work. What you wanna use depends on your project really: if you’re binding together a work of text you’ll want to use some kind of printer paper (of course). If you’re making a sketchbook, you can fold up some sketching paper. I like to get sketchbooks with perforated edges so I can tear them out easily if I want to use a blank page for bookbinding. You can also buy large sheets of paper made for any medium. For example, if you want a sheet of water color paper, just search “large watercolor paper sheet”.

Awl (or all alternative): An awl is a tool used to poke sewing holes. It’s nice because it’s sharp and ergonomic, but you can totally also use a pushpin or even a sewing needle.

Bone folder (or a bone folder alternative): A bone folder creates sharp creases when you fold your pages, making them lay flatter. It also helps define the hinge gap on finished books, making it open easier. You can use a ruler if you don’t have one.

PVA glue: PVA glue is what to look out for when it comes to binding glue. There are some designed specifically for bookbinding, which spread out a bit faster than ones that aren’t. You can also use tacky glue which IS a PVA glue.

Book board: Also sometimes called chip board, Davey board, or mat board. This is what you’ll use for hard cover books. It is important to use book board specially, as cardboard will warp. You can buy book board directly, or you can cut the covers off of old textbooks or binders, unwrap the paper/plastic around the board, and use that!

Box cutter or utility knife: for cutting the board

Decorative paper and book cloth: For wrapping around cover boards and for endpapers. Book cloth can also be used to cover boards. You can also draw your own designs on Bristol paper if you want (or any paper with a similar thickness/durability). When it comes to decorative paper I like to either get scrapbook paper or rolls of fancy handmade paper (you can get those on Etsy, through paper source, or through bookbinding websites).

Bookbinding materials: Optional (and not crazy expensive)

These are supplies that you don’t need for binding but that can make the process easier and/or help with the decorative elements of your books. I’d recommend these things for when you’ve been binding for a while and feel these things could be helpful!

Paper trimmer: can cut a few sheets of paper evenly—I find it really helpful for endpapers

Stencils: Super helpful if you want to add text on the covers

Stamps: Good for adding text and also great for adding illustrations if you’re not able to draw them on your own. You can buy ink pads for them or use markers by coloring over the stamp lightly and using the stamp immediately so it doesn’t dry (I’ve tested this with alcohol markers and it works very well)

Paint markers: great for drawing directly on the cover. Since they’re opaque they can imitate the look of vinyl. You can also get them super painterly if you want. The internet usually talks about poscas but there are tons of different brands. Do some research, figure out what you like & can afford.

Hot foil pen & heat transfer foil: Perfect if you want to add foil to your covers but don’t want to spend a ton of money on a cricut. A lot of binders uses the foil quill brand, but there are ones that cost less and work the same (I have both a cheaper one & an actual foil quill because I wanted some nib variation. As long as the pen has good reviews that aren’t from bots you should be good). Also remember: don’t use foil designed for going through laminators (I.e. decofoil) . It doesn’t work the same way.

Bookbinding Materials—Expensive

These are materials I’d recommend for people who have been bookbinding for a while & feel that it’s something they really want to invest in. To be fully transparent, I’m a college student and don’t own these and have little personal experience with them. However, I know a lot of binders who love them!

Cricut machine—Cricuts are cutting machines that can make precise cuts into paper, wood, bookboard, or vinyl. A lot of binders will cut designs out of vinyl and apply them to the covers using a heat press.

Book press—What it sounds like. The pressure helps the pages lay flat and stay even. That being said you can stack heavy books on top of your projects, it just may not have the same even pressure. I also know some people will DIY these, so if you’re skilled with power tools you can give it a go!

Paper guillotine—like a paper trimmer but bigger and can cut more sheets of paper at once. I believe really good ones can also be used to cut bookboard!

Those are all the materials I can think of! Hope this can work as a good starting point for those interested in the craft. I’ll definitely be posting more info about bookbinding for people who are interested :)

-Zoë💗

[ferrstappen]

Dad Lando has my whole heart 😭😭😭 could you write something of the drivers first time meeting Amelia? Or her fist time in the paddock?.. anything I just love dad Lando and your writing style 🧡

meet & greet l dad!Lando Norris x reader

The existence of baby Amalia Norris, no middle name just like her dad, was a well known secret, but a secret nonetheless.

There were never rumors about you being pregnant, but when the season started, mechanics and staff of every team, tv channel, you name it, started talking about Lando Norris and how he supposedly had a baby with his girlfriend.

Norris? No way, he's still a child himself

There's no way, the girlfriend would have to raise two babies and she looks smarter than that.

McLaren team members, especially those closer to Lando, were often asked about it by other people, but they were warned by the high commands to keep it private until Lando and you wanted to confirm it. Even if Adam Norris was often gushing about his youngest granddaughter and how she smiled just for him.

Max Verstappen once unwired himself after a reporter asked him about it. Carlos once pretended he didn't hear and the next time he just asked for another question.

The closest people on the grid already met her, she was six months old already and was completely used to the presence of uncle Max, uncle Carlos, uncle Oscar and uncle Danny, others had seen Amalia once or twice, but didn't really have the honorary uncle title.

There were so many talks between you and Lando, him being the most reticent to bringing your daughter to the paddock, not only because of the noises and movements, but someone was going to get a picture eventually, her face being everywhere, on stranger’s camera rolls and Instagram accounts.

"Why don't we make an announcement on our terms, then?"

Lando understood your idea, he really did, but he didn't owe anything to anyone. Yes, in the early months of your relationship he'd be posting stories and pictures to his .jpg account, but he never openly talked about you, your name and relationship was one of the few prohibited subjects for reporters and his PR team made sure everyone knew it.

But, this time was different because this was his daughter, and she was too precious, too beautiful for people to just look at her perfectly shaped face, beautifully colored eyes, adorably cute pout, even when she was drooling from giggling too much or sleeping to deeply.

But it was Silverstone, this wasn’t an ordinary occasion or an ordinary race, it was his home race and this time both you and him knew it was the right time to bring her to the paddock, just for the race day and trying to keep her out of the public’s eyes and constant cameras following his every step.

The night before you were searching her closet to find the perfect outfit for the ever changing English weather. Lando was holding Amalia on his arms, giggling along her as she played with the messy curls on top of his head.

“What do you want to wear for your first race, pretty girl?” Lando asked his daughter who just stared at him and enjoyed the rocking motion of his arms.

A white dress with orange daisies seemed like the perfect option, with one of her daddy’s papaya bucket hats made just for her. It was the perfect outfit for what was going to be a very memorable day.

And of course it was.

At first, fans and press were surprised Lando didn’t arrive on the track with his McLaren, instead his dad was driving a black Mercedes, polarized windows that only caught a glimpse of you through the front glass. Lando made sure everything was fine with the credentials before exiting the car, drawing the attention to himself at the same time Adam prepared the baby stroller and you placed Amalia, laughing at Lando’s dad who refused to give you the stroller.

You shyly waved your hand to the people saying your name, greeting some known faces before finally reaching the McLaren garage, where Zak was the first one to reach Adam and carefully lifting the visor and greeting Amalia who instantly recognized him.

She soon started crying, demanding to be picked up and instantly stopping when she noticed people were staring at her in awe, new faces smiling at her and waving, but the biggest smiled appeared when she noticed her papa, wearing a matching hat and taking her from your arms.

That’s how people got to meet baby Amalia Norris, who sported the same mischievous glint on her eyes, and loudly giggled when uncle Carlos arrived to the papaya garage. He was too patient with her, letting the baby play with his fingers, grab his Ferrari hat, wrap her fists on his hair and Carlos just kept talking as if his niece wasn’t tugging on his hair.

It was all a blur when Lando got to the parc fermé, parking on the big number one place, almost falling from the car before jumping into the crowd of papaya mechanics and staff waiting for him, and everyone noticed how his eyes lit up when he saw his dad and you away from the crowd, with his baby girl clapping her hands and letting out the loudest and happiest giggles, especially when Lando took her from your arms and leaving a loud kiss on her cheek before trying to hide her face on his neck and reaching to you, kissing your lips.

He received his trophy, sang his national anthem and ended the day handing his precious camera to Daniel.

It was already dark, most people were leaving as Lando grabbed your waist with one arm, the trophy with another as you held Amalia in your hip, in front of Lando’s winner car.

lando.jpg: silverstone 2024. do I need to say more?

ps: please do not repost pictures of our daughter online, I’m sharing this because it’s one of the best days of my life and wanted to celebrate with my favorite girls (and my car).

[thisisntmyrightera]

Together - CHO HYUN-JU x Fem Reader FINAL PART

Summary: Reader is scammed and abandoned by her boyfriend, leaving her alone in South Korea to her fate, so in desperate search of a solution to return to her home country she decides to join the squid games to get money, within the game she meets a couple of people who become her friends and could possibly be something more.

Warning: Violence, homophobia mention of attempted rape and sexist language

-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-

After being found by a guard and taken to a room where ''the boss'' waited, everything remained silent. I don't know how much time passed between shots in the distance that stopped and started again.,time was eternal.

We'll give you one more chance… a game to save your life, for that you must use this - a guard offered me a uniform like theirs to wear.

I don't want to… - I looked at them denying it.

It's not an option, put it on - he threw it at my feet while I felt the barrel of the gun press on my back.

It will be a special game, after you put it on, your opponent will enter to play.

The mask on my face was tighter than my head could bear, although the pain was nothing compared to the fear I felt every time a gun sounded in the distance, the murmurs surrounded me and I could understand many of them, they were in my language.

The room felt cold, I could feel it despite the suit they had forced me to wear that covered my entire body and despite the thick fabric I could feel the cold barrel of the gun pointed at my back.

Suddenly, I could hear the sound of what was a door and firm footsteps approaching while everything became silent and the room remained dark.

´´Player 120, congratulations you have been chosen to participate in a special game called MARCO POLO, in this game a guard will give you a gun with 4 bullets inside, your anonymous opponent and you will walk around the room and when I say STOP you must say MARCO, while your opponent will say POLO and you will guess from the sound where he has moved to shoot, if you kill him you will have won this round and you will go to the final, if not, you will be eliminated''

Player 120?…I could feel my jaw shaking and my hands scratching the fabric of my gloves, Hyun-Ju.

The room that was totally dark lit up slightly in the center revealing a guard offering her a loaded gun, I could see her for a couple of seconds before she hid back in the darkness with her face wet from tears and her hands shaking with the gun between them.

''The game begins!'' the speaker spoke making a childish music that tormented my ears sound, the gun barrel pushed me making me walk in silence through the darkness to stop when I heard the silence again

Marco…- Hyun-Ju mentioned with her trembling voice

Polo…- I said while the mask distorted my voice and a shot was heard in the room

It hadn't hit me.

''The game continues!'' the voice sounded in the speaker continuing with the music again and they pushed me to walk again, my feet almost dragged themselves stumbling, it didn't matter that my tears clouded my vision anyway I couldn't see in the dark

The music stopped again

Marco…-Hyun-Ju almost screamed this time

Polo…- I said trying not to make my trembling voice noticeable

Again another shot rang out making me jump but again, it didn't hit me.

''Player 120, you have two more chances, let's continue!'' The speaker played music again and I stumbled when I felt the push of the gun on my back

The music was playing slower and slower in my head, there was no chance for me after all and the only hope I had was that Hyun-Ju would get out of here and fulfill her dream, that she would finally be happy after all.

Marco - I heard her voice in the distance like an echo in the void that reverberated in every distant wall of the place

Polo - I barely murmured…

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Alternative ANGST Ending

Alternative FLUFF Ending

Many thanks to everyone who was part of this and encouraged me to keep writing, you really made my days better, I love reading you and I promise I'll be back with more work, I hope I don't disappoint you.

Thanks for reading, I'll be back soon!

Tag List!

@kuureii @sann1e @sunflowers-are-heaven @bridellashiper @etta-huracan @cupiid1 @alianacelinecolux @juliexz @duchcess @stvrdustalexx @styles-weasley @cupiid1 @babyzzlove @captainlunaxmen @lobotomyrealness @mariaxman @s-riddle16 @flowersbloom8787 @danisika @learninglinesintherainn @sl33pycaaat @mikuley @estelaig @swxggriffinsworld @anxietyspacestart @jspidey5 @lillyberry18 @lolkaloi @s-riddle16 @starrtobi @danisika @velmaer @zuwizy @dripoftheseus @didi-2madd

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Witch /// Part 2

Part 1

The great part about Rhiana the Witch’s cozy cottage outside that small town was the privacy. Not just when her most wriggly meals ran; but because it was purposefully hidden. The faerie circles just outside the town messed with maps and satellites making her little place a safe haven from the enemies and ex-lovers experiments she’d made over her many centuries of being alive. But now that she was leaving to get closer to you, she was uncomfortably exposed. 

“Hey Rhi-Rhi you okay? You’ve looked so nervous since I picked you up.”

“Oh I’m fine it’s just all these people make me so nervous.”

“I guess it is kind of overwhelming.”

“Maybe you can take me somewhere private. Like your place maybe?”

She thinks it’s worth the risk as she’s allowed to use the same excuse to cling to your side. Pretend to be distraught when she gets hit on to have you pretend to be dating to drive off desperate and confident weirdos. She eats that up. Unfortunately though, her open fawning over you leaves her unguarded from soul searches. An old technique lovers of olde used to unite over long periods. Naturally, trouble just happens to be in the 500-meter radius and is well off enough to get in close to foil her plans.

“Hello there. I’m your new neighbor. I wanted to introduce myself to everyone since I’m completely new to the area.”

“Oh hi, nice to meet you! I’m (Y/n) and this is Rhi–”

“(Y/n) you don’t have to introduce me I’m only visiting.”

“That’s such a shame Rhiana. I would’ve hoped we could…get to know each other better.”

Trouble is one of her craziest exes–Narciness. He was a nymph and she was a witch. Back then, it made sense that they were perfect for one another. Both were a gorgeous couple, immortal and with plenty of magic. Not to mention he didn’t even mind that she ate humans for her youthful appearance. But it just wasn’t right for Rhea. Just as his name would suggest there was a deep-seated and well-masked narcissism that showed its ugly head at the worst times. She ultimately took the very mature option that she’s learned over the centuries when it comes to major obstacles. She ran. 

“Nice to see you again Rhiana. It’s always nice to know my girlfriend decided to disappear from me the last few centuries!”

“Quit whining. I left you a note didn’t I?”

“A note cursed to explode with a memory-wipe spell the second I finished it. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to leave me.”

“Oh genius, you’re finally getting it!”

“That can’t be right! You and I…we’re perfect together! And you instead cheat on me with the most imperfect human!”

“Do not ever talk about my (Y/n) like that!”

She’s almost glad he’s crazy enough not to hide his intentions. Had he been cut from the same cloth as she-she would have kept silent until after she devoured her prey. But Narciness is an idiot who so clearly had it out for you that she wouldn’t let him live another day without singing your praises. Unfortunately, the thing about killing a nymph is that it wasn’t easy, a child of the old powers of nature. He’s survived a lot of things and can withstand some of Rhea’s most fatal potions. And especially when she’s far from home spending time with you, she’s a little shorthanded. So she’ll come up with another remedy. 

“Hey Narc, I didn’t know you went shopping here.”

“I think instead of solely getting the organic stuff I figured I’d swing by here every once in a while. The gallery is truly immaculate.”

“Good for you. C’mon (Y/n) we’re going to miss our movie.”

“Oh right! Well, it was nice seeing you, Narc!”

“Oh (Y/n) before you go, there's something I wanted to tell you.”

“What?”

“I just love your smile.”

“Oh, thanks !”

“Let’s go, (Y/n).”

The thing she found that sparked her attraction to him was his smile. It lit up the room like yours and in the end, it’ll be what protects you from his violent protections of ‘their relationship’. Unfortunately, now that she’s used a spell to shift his affection she’ll have to figure out some way to end his life before he turns violent against her. Too bad it’ll be hard to figure out in the span of two days. Now she can miss her plane and extend her stay a little while but it’s just not enough time. Not enough time for her to make sure ‘Narc’ doesn’t try anything, she’ll have to do something drastic. 

“Narciness I was hoping we could find some common ground.”

“With you? Babe, didn’t I tell you I was done? Your old news.”

“For you, I might be but I’m the hottest thing in (Y/n)’s world.”

“...I see. So we’re officially competing then. Would you like to fight this out now?”

“I’d like to try something new. A gesture of peace, if you will.”

“...oven mitts? You plan to make me bake? Why would I concern myself with such a lowly task?”

“Did I tell you (Y/n) has a sweet tooth?”

“...”

Rhea the Witch considers herself lucky her ex considered cooking for himself as a job for ‘someone uglier than him.’ She’s also glad she gets to stay another day due to food poisoning. Who knew nymphs gave witches so much nausea?

“Oh Rhea were you eating that bloody meat again? I keep telling you that rare steak is great but you got to make sure it’s at least cooked a little bit.”

“I know hon. I should really think about maintaining my diet better.”

“Yeah, I’m just glad this is happening now. Instead of on a plane or bus where I wouldn’t be there for you.”

“Yes…(Y/n) what do you think about me staying another week or so. So many things keep happening, it feels as though fate is telling me.”

She may have some serious indigestion but you were hers and the threat was…toast. For Rhea, her reward was being pampered by you. Finally able to rest with her love by her side. Nothing was better and nothing could bother her. Not even the distant thought of the new owner to the place next door. 

“I noticed your plants. I’m not a huge fan of nature but maybe you can show me the ropes. What do you say, neighbor?”

[fatbiatchforever]

Lies (Pt. 2)

Just wanna quickly say thanks to everyone who liked the previous one and all the support. Hope you guys like this one and feel better lol.

Taglist: @sapphirebarnes @mrsnikstan

"Bucky?"

You rubbed your eyes to adjust to the light seeping in from the hallway and let out a yawn.

Bucky smirked as he leaned against the door frame. "Someone's excited to see me."

"No, no, I am." You pulled on his wrist and opened the door wider to let him in. You chuckled as you turned back, noticing Bucky's eyes darting around the room before finally settling on you. "First time in your own home?"

Bucky's tense face softened into a shy smile. "Just missed the place."

You closed the distance between, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips softly against his. "Not me?"

Bucky's hands snaked around your waist, pulling you closer. His breath was warm against your face. "I could show you how much I missed you."

Leo's barks startled you, causing you to jump out of Bucky's hold. By the looks of it, Bucky was just as taken aback.

You walked over to your dog to soothe him. "Leo, it's okay, it's Buck." But Leo wasn’t having it; he lunged toward Bucky, his barking getting louder by the second. It stopped only when Bucky pushed him down and muffled his mouth.

"BUCKY!" you screamed, immediately trying to push him away from Leo. But what were you against a super soldier? Especially when Bucky’s eyes had that eerie focus that scared you. Leo's whimpers filled the apartment, along with your pleas. "Bucky, please, stop, you're hurting him."

As though Bucky snapped out of a trance, he stepped back, walking away from you and your dog. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that."

You gently lifted Leo's face, searching for any scratches or injuries that Bucky's metal arm might have caused. Leo got up and hid behind you, his whimpers breaking your heart. "Why would you do that, Bucky?"

Bucky gulped and looked down. "His barks were ringing in my ears."

You took a deep breath, balling your shaking hands into fists. "I don’t know, Leo never acts this way. He's always so happy to see you."

You noticed Leo walking to the side of the couch, where he usually hid when Bucky wanted to take him out for morning walks.

"You still shouldn't have done that," you hissed at Bucky.

Bucky nodded before walking to your room and closing the door behind him.

---

It had been a few days since Bucky returned. He seemed fine after a shower, almost like the incident had never happened. Leo stayed away from Bucky every chance he got, even though Bucky tried everything to get closer to him.

Still, it was so unlike him in every way. He was always quiet, but since he’d been back, he’d been even more silent. Whenever you caught a glimpse of him, he seemed frustrated, but the moment he noticed your gaze, his eyes would light up and his lips would curve into a smile. His usual kisses and lingering looks felt heavier than usual. 

You wanted to chalk it up to the aftereffects of a tough mission and him trying to hide it from you, but you needed to know what was going on. So you went to your main source.

"Sam!"

You hugged him, then stepped back to look at his outfit. "Why are you in a suit? I'm not pitching you another Captain America Lube Line."

Sam sighed. "And thank God for that. I need to be at an event in an hour, and they said I needed to look smart. When do I not look smart?"

"Uhm, probably when you agreed to a Captain America Lube Line. There were just so many options."

"I didn’t agree to it; my assistant did. How many times do I have to say it before you guys believe me?"

You laughed. "Thanks for coming."

Sam straightened up in his chair. "Of course. Why your office, though?"

"Only place I don’t have to worry about Cap fans or Bucky. Would’ve called, but I know better than to ask about missions over the phone."

"What did he do?"

You sighed. "Nothing, really. He had a freak-out with Leo, but after that, he's been fine. It's probably nothing, and I'm worried for no reason, but..."

"If he’s not okay, he’ll try his best to hide it from you," Sam interrupted.

You nodded.

"The mission was good. Everything went well, and he seemed fine."

You let out a shaky breath. "Okay. I was afraid you’d say that."

Concern etched onto Sam’s face. "Afraid?"

You looked up at him. "I know he looks fine and is acting fine too, but something feels off, Sam. It’s just frustrating that I can’t figure it out. It’s frustrating that Bucky seems to be putting on a show."

"Did you talk to him?"

You scoffed. "Obviously, but he said he’s fine. Everything’s good. He lost his house keys too."

"Y/N—"

"Sam, I know it could happen to anyone, but Bucky knows where his spare key is. When I asked him about the keys, he didn’t even mention thinking about getting the spare one."

Before you could spiral further, Sam stopped you. "He probably forgot about it. All of us forget things, that’s normal. Bucky does have hard times after missions. It could be that, or he’ll end up telling you what’s wrong in a day or two. You’ve just got to let him come to you."

You nodded. "Yeah, you’re right."

Sam sighed. "Listen, if you’re worried, I’ll talk to him tomorrow, see if anything seems weird to me."

You smiled. "Thank you, really."

"Of course. Let me know if there’s anything else you need me for. I need to leave to look 'smart.'"

You laughed. "I’m sure you can pull it off."

"If you need me, you know you can—"

"Yep, yep, I know."

---

"Y/N?"

You turned to the voice at the door and smiled. "Hey."

"Hey, what are you doing?"

You wiped your hands on the side of your apron and walked toward him. "I made dinner for us. Thought I'd surprise you with a home date."

You laughed at Bucky's confused look before guiding him to his chair.

"I know things have been weird since you came back. I just want us to forget about the weirdness and go back to the way things were."

Bucky smiled before he pulled you to sit on his lap. "I want that too. I love you." Just as he leaned in for a kiss, you pulled away. "Sorry, the steak’s going to burn."

You rushed back to the stove and plated everything. Bucky opened a bottle of wine as you placed the plates on the table and sat across from him.

"This looks amazing, sweetheart," Bucky praised.

"Dig in!"

You watched as Bucky took his first bite and sighed in delight. "Mmm, so good."

You laughed. "You're so silly."

You both ate in silence, exchanging shy smiles each time one of you caught the other staring.

"You know, you still haven’t told me any stories from the mission. You always love telling me about them." You pouted.

Bucky intertwined his fingers with yours. "I'm sorry, must have slipped my mind. The mission was good. I got all the intel I needed. Hydra was a bitch as usual, surprise, surprise."

You laughed when Bucky rolled his eyes.

"Do you remember me talking about Triple S?" Bucky asked.

You shook your head.

"Ah, well, they’re trying to do something with the super soldier serum again."

You nodded and finished your glass of wine. "Want more?" you asked as you got up to get another bottle. "Nah, I’m fine."

You retrieved another bottle from the fridge and opened it. "You're a good Bucky."

Bucky laughed. "A good Bucky? You're already slurring your words, sweetheart. Should you be drinking more?"

You shook your head and pointed at him. "No, I meant what I said. You look just like him."

The drop in his expression sent a chill down your spine.

"You don’t know what you’re talking about." The change in his tone was alarming, but you knew you were getting close, so you prodded further.

You laughed. "I know Bucky better than I’ve known anyone my whole life. And if you really were him, you’d know that Bucky would never share mission details with me. Or call me sweetheart."

Your heart pounded as the man stood up, slamming his fists on the table, his eyes burning with anger.

"A plus on the looks, but you’re nothing like my Bucky."

He lunged toward you, his metal fingers wrapping around your neck. "What did you do?" The man who looked just like your husband asked, his tone so low it was easily masked under your heavy breaths. "Tell me where he is."

He laughed as he increased the pressure around your neck. "I know there are people coming, Y/N. Call. Them. Off."

"Tell me where Bucky is," you choked out, your fingers gripping his wrist, trying to focus on your breathing.

"You’re forgetting that I can snap your neck right now." He increased the pressure and pushed you up before slamming you into the wall. You shrieked in pain, feeling the blood trickling down your face. "Even if they find him, he’ll come back to find his wife long gone. Do you want that? Do you want your husband to find you torn apart limb for limb, huh?"

Before you could reply, you heard a crash, and you fell to the floor. You slumped against the wall, gasping for breath, barely able to see as blood clouded your vision, and all the noise around you made you dizzier.

Your body felt weak, your head pounding with pain. You struggled to keep your eyes open. You heard Sam’s voice. You heard him calling your name as if he were miles away, but you could see bits of him in your blurred vision.

Before you slipped into unconsciousness, all you could manage to say was, "We have to find Bucky."

[hihhasotherfixations]

John Price headcanons sfw & nsfw

I don’t usually do headcannons so please bear with me 👉👈

I hope you enjoy them tho :3 Will I use many of these in my writing? Yes, yes I will. These are both in general as well as him with you ;3

Part 2

Sfw:

He has an entire routine for his beard. Keeps it trimmed regularly and takes very good care of it, which causes it to feel very nice and soft to the touch.

Absolutely LOVES when you’re the one doing it though. It’s a small act of love that he can never get enough of. Whether you’re the one trimming it or just putting some products in. It’s a moment where he can sit on the bath rim and have you stand between his legs - or the other way around where he props you up on the sink and stands in between your legs. He just places his hands on your hips and closes his eyes, trusting you with something so important to him. It’s a very intimate thing that he treasures.

He has reading glasses. I won’t budge on this. Square(rectangle) ones with a very thin frame. Tends to forget whenever he puts them on his head and proceeds to go searching for them for five minutes.

He is very warm blooded. Always runs hot like a furnace. A blessing in the winter, a curse in the summer. Especially because he loves to cuddle.

Has a little trinket on his desk representing each of the 141 (+ Nik, Laswell and Farah). Be it a gift they gave to him or something that reminds him of them. There’s something for everyone. It clutters the edge of his desk a bit but it’s worth it because whenever the paperwork gets too much, he can just look at the little shrine he built and smile.

His love language is physical touch and quality time. While he loves giving you gifts and being romantic too, nothing beats holding you in his arms while you cuddle on the couch or in bed.

Speaking of- this man absolutely adores you. He doesn’t think he deserves the love you give him because of the things he’s done in his life. But every day he sees you, you prove that you do love him and he wants to return that love twice over.

His biggest fear is coming home after deployment to an empty house. Finding a letter on the table stating you can’t wait for him any longer. He’d understand, of course. But it would crush him.

While we’re on the sad train already- he suffers frequent nightmares due to PTSD. Feels really guilty for waking you up but also can’t stop himself from seeking your comfort after one of them - craving it. If you allow him to (he wouldn’t bring it up unless you suggested it), he’ll call you if he’s out on deployment or at base. Give him that privilege to phone you awake just to comfort him? There is nothing that man won’t do for you anymore.

He is terrified of being the one to leave you too though. He knows that if he’s ever faced with the option to sacrifice himself for one of the 141, he would. But it also breaks his heart because it would mean he’d leave you for them. He tries not to think about it like that, but it’s a constant conflict in his mind.

While he’s probably more likely to be a dog person, I can also really see him with cats just curled up on his chest. Once again, this man is always warm. The little felines will search him out like a bloodhound, preferring him over laying by the radiator.

THIS 👏 MAN 👏 CAN 👏 COOK 👏

And he loves to do it too. His idea of a hobby is either reading, building models or cooking. You can often find him in the kitchen with a cook book, making a five star meal. Loves to see your reaction to the taste of it, makes him proud of himself.

Also, yeah, he likes building models :3. Miniatures. In his spare time you can find him on the couch, bent over the coffee table with his reading glasses perched on his nose while he’s building a ww2 bomber plane out of matchsticks from some random pattern he found online. He has very steady hands and it causes the models to always look fantastic. His best and biggest work is a ship in a bottle from a kit you gave him for an anniversary between you two. He only works on that in short increments to make sure he doesn’t screw it up - it’s about 2/3 done. You’ve repeatedly tried to get him to share his work online but he always gets bashful and refuses.

If he ever got the chance to do it together with the team though?? He’s gonna be beaming about that single evening for a week straight.

His favourite colour is dark green, like the forests :)

This is less of a headcannon and more just snippets of canon proof that I found. But he can speak English, Russian, Arabic and Spanish. Maybe even more.

He’s a tea person. Can’t stand coffee. It’s not about the taste, simply that every time he tried it, it gave him a headache.

When he first introduced you to the team, he was very nervous. Really wanted them to like you. So when Soap immediately took you into a hug and thanked you for ‘taking care of the old man’, followed by Gaz introducing himself with a warm smile and a praising regalia of the things he’d heard from Price, he couldn’t be happier. And when he at one point saw you at the kitchen table with Ghost, talking calmly and laughing with the hulking man who’s tension had dropped from his shoulders? He knew you were the one.

Loves going on double dates with Laswell and her wife too. You’re all good friends and it’s a chance to truly unwind and just catch up with Kate outside of work.

Please for the love of all that is holy, take a bath or shower with him. He ADORES them. Really wants so bad to take care of you. Will do your whole cleaning routine for you if you let him. If it’s something he’s not used to? Teach him, he’s very eager to learn.

All in all, this man just loves you so much. He finds himself so so lucky that you chose him of all people as your partner. Whether you’re civilian or military, he’ll protect you with life and limb. Literally.

So, those were the sfw thoughts bouncing in my head. I hope you liked them. Now we’re moving onto the spicy stuff. Please respect the banner, thank you and more stuff for this man is coming! ^^

Nsfw:

He is an ass man. All the way. Don’t get me wrong, he LOVES your thighs, seeing the way his fingers indent the flesh when he squeezes, being buried between them - it’s heavenly. But there is just something about your ass that he can’t get enough of. If his eyes aren’t on it, then his hands are.

He won’t randomly smack your ass - doesn’t really sit right with him, doesn’t find it proper (except for certain situations ;3). But dear god does he always have a hand on your ass to squeeze if he gets the chance. Walking somewhere together? If he can, he’ll slide his hand from your back/waist down to your ass and hold there. Sitting on his lap? You already know it, his hand is on your ass, keeping you in place. Brushing past you? One hand on your waist, one hand on your ass while he apologises and squeezes past.

A gentle over a rough lover. While he can go both ways, he prefers to go slow and deep. Watching your face contort in pleasure as he fucks you, hearing every noise you make.

This man is an absolute pleasure dom. He gets off on seeing you get off. There’s plenty of nights where he solely focuses on you and doesn’t cum himself.

Doesn’t like the word daddy but for the love of god PLEASE use honorifics. Call him captain and sir and you’ll have an entirely different man on your hands.

Prefers giving over receiving oral. There’s just something about working his tongue and mouth on you that never fails to make him groan against you - even if his mouth is otherwise occupied.

Will always properly prepare you. He doesn’t like hurting you. He’s big and he knows it so he doesn’t want to take any chances.

While he doesn’t mind quickies (in his office is a favourite), he prefers the actual thing. Like stated before, he wants to focus on you and give you all the pleasure he can and a quicky just doesn’t allow for that.

For those instances where you rile him up enough to forego his gentler side however? He knows how to work you. He can push every button you have and have you seeing stars while he fucks the life out of you. Don’t expect to be standing on strong legs the day after.

Man has stamina for DAYS. Prefers to make you cum multiple times before he cums himself. Need a moment in between orgasms to recover before you can go again? That’s okay, you can cockwarm him while he waits.

Speaking of cum. It’s thick, potent and by god he cums a lot. Properly stuffs you if you let him.

Big on marking you. Loves leaving bites, hickeys and handprints. Give him the same too. Scratch marks, bite marks, hickeys. He loves checking his body over in he morning to see what you left.

He has quite the libido on him. He can’t help it, you’re the most inviting and enticing thing in his eyes. Bend over to pick something up and his cock can already be hardening in his pants.

He’s very considerate of your wants and needs though. If you don’t want to have sex, he’ll cuddle you and hold you instead. If you’re not into a certain thing, he’ll refrain on doing it next time. Very much wants to make it a time of pure pleasure and love for you, because that’s what it is for him too.

Very into kisses. Sloppy, long kisses where you moan and whine into his mouth. Better yet if you muffle your moans in his mouth while he fucks you.

Favourite positions are missionary, mating press, doggy style, lotus and spooning sex. He loves them for different reasons.

Missionary because of how close he can be, feeling your legs wrap around his waist while all of him touches all of you.

Mating press because of how deep he can hit and keep such control. He can see your face contort in pleasure while folding your legs up and holding you down.

Doggy style is obvious as to why. But he also really loves watching the way your back arches with this one. He can hold onto your hips and just let his eyes rove your body.

Lotus he loves a lot when cuddles on the couch evolve into more, or when he’s in his office and the need arrises for you both. Just having you seated on his lap, your legs around him, body pressed so closely into his while he gently fucks up into you? Heaven.

Spooning sex? You mean cuddles + sex? Hit. Him. Up. He absolutely loves fucking you like this in the morning. Lazy, tired, properly waking each other up with pleasure.

If you’re into it and allow him to, he’d even actually wake you up like that. Big on somnophelia like that for the thought of pulling you out of your dreams and your sleep with pleasure. If he gets to the stage where he’s opened you up and his cock is filling you without you waking up until then, he’s oh so proud of himself. Would only do it if you’re comfortable though.

Very big on cockwarming. Watch a movie together on the couch and let him rest his cock in you from behind. Can evolve into spooning sex on the couch while making you try to keep your attention on the movie. His hand on your chin, keeping your face pointed to the screen while he whispers against your ear.

I said it before, he’s big. Long and thick and knows how to use it well. He’s a very hairy man all over but he keeps it neatly trimmed down there.

The h a p p y t r a i l of this man. Run your nails over it and it instantly sends blood rushing into his cock.

Overall, John will fuck you whenever he gets the chance. And by the gods he will show you what it’s like to be truly worshipped.

Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to interact or send me any asks, I’d love to chat ^^

Part 2

[thenewgirl76]

It's In My Blood

Okay, random idea centered around halfas that I just had to share.

What if besides death followed by resurrection via a source of ectoplasm, a human-ghost hybrid could also be created She Hulk style. And by that I mean the old school comics. Not that spiteful heap of garbage masquerading as a tv adaptation made by that toxically bitter hack Jessica Gao.

This can be applied to whatever hero/villain you choose, I'm going with Batman. Mostly because I haven't seen many half ghost Bruce Wayne posts.

Anyway, the scenario starts off with Alfred finding Danny roaming the streets in search of food due to running away from foster care. (Jack and Maddy left him there in the hopes of keeping him safe from the GIW after Wes finally succeeded in outing him to all of Amity) And through lots of gentle coaxing convinces him to let Alfred take him home.

Eventually Danny gets so attached he readily agrees to being adopted into the Wayne family by Alfred. Once enough trust has been built overtime to share identities Gotham automatically gains a new protector.

Then the further establishment of new relationships is suddenly interrupted by a full-scale alien invasion, requiring all hands on deck. Though all the heroes manage to hold their own for the most part it quickly becomes clear they may not win this battle if they don't find something to turn the tide in their favor.

They get that something in the form of Phantom rallying all his ghost allies/frenemies to join the fight. With their added power the entirety of the alien army is thoroughly beaten back. But not before Batman takes a hit hard enough to cause him to bleed out at an alarming rate.

The already dire situation worsens all the more when it's discovered that Batman is a rare blood type and no one in the batclan or even the other human heroes matches. All save for Phantom. Problem is, with all that ecto mixed with his blood a transfusion could possibly poison or worse kill his big brother. Everyone is aware of this. But any other option would take too long and Batman doesn't have much time left.

So with bated breath and reluctance Phantom gives his blood. For a few scary minutes it looks like Batman might be showing signs of rejection. But then he slowly begins to stabilize, giving the medical team much needed breathing room to get him properly tended to.

While Bats may be on the mend no one's relaxing just yet. And not for a lack of trying. It's just a little hard to be chill when Mr. Dark and Broody has started randomly going invisible or intangible, speaking with an echo, levitating over his bed, and overall become creepily unsettling to look at. Especially with that unnatural glow in his eyes.

[midnightscramble]

Hello I want to request one of Agatha Harkness x fem! Reader smut 🥹

Like Lightning Part 1 (Agatha Harkness x fem!Reader)

The Masterlist

Author’s Note: So, so many liberties were taken (if it’s not to your liking feel free to request again, don’t be shy!) Happy readings to you.

Summary: To Agatha’s surprise and relief her neighbor Y/n is not under Wanda’s complete control, Y/n has a feeling her and Agatha have met before…

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, pwp, slight angst/comfort, touch starved Agatha, thigh riding (Agatha receiving), biting (Agatha receiving), bottom Agatha, top reader, no Beta read

There was not much to do in Westview. The smart dressed college kids she went to school with had invited Y/n to hang out by the water tower, the go to spot for wanna be delinquents. But every night was the same, they discussed the same things with slightly more fluency than the night before, almost as if it was a rehearsal.

Rather than endure any more of the pseudo intellectual ramblings, Y/n had taken to walking at night. She walked just about everywhere, weaving in and out of neighborhoods, even taking to the near by woods. Although she couldn’t put her finger on it, there was something about Westview at night that intrigued her. The air had a dream like quality, perhaps it was the mysterious fog that invaded the town each night, or maybe it was just her imagination.

Either way, Y/n felt a keen sense of safety on these walks. The city council had recently established a town curfew, meaning everyone was supposed to be in their homes by 8 pm. Two hours later and it was guaranteed that all lights would be out as people retired for the night. Everyone seemed so eager to comply with the rules that there was not a single soul left awake to enforce them.

That was until she saw an abandoned bicycle propped up against a tree near the edge of the woods. Cautiously approaching, she let her hands run over the handles. They were warm. Someone had recently ridden the bike. Y/n looked around the empty streets, and then towards the woods. The odds were that some kid thought they’d be rebellious and runaway for the night. She huffed and debated her options: continue her walk, or prevent a would be search party.

Always the good samaritan, she trudged through the fallen leaves, letting instinct guide her. It was almost as if a magnetic force was tugging her deeper into the woods. No, a child wouldn’t have made it this far, a child would have turned back by now- the sound of crickets chirping suddenly ceased, replaced by the low hum of radio static. She stopped in her tracks a peered into the darkness.

Choppily, a disembodied voice sounded as if it were right in front if her “We ha-ve eye-s on an-other host-age”

Y/n took off in a sprint before she could process what was being said. She dropped her keys somewhere in her rush to safety but didn’t look back until she had reached the familiar pavement of the roads. Still running, she made a beeline for home, and to her great relief a light emitted from her neighbor Agatha’s window. She ran up to the front door and pounded on it. Her heart was beating so fast she feared her ribcage would give way to its force. Finally the door opened, and Y/n collapsed into the door frame.

“Oh, well hello to you too,” Agatha sing songed.

“Please you’ve got to let me in, there’s something in the woods…” Agatha’s eyes narrowed slightly as she peaked over Y/n’s shoulder to examine the outside.

With concern in her eyes, she guided the young woman in. She wasn’t quite sure if Y/n was lucid or not. It seemed unlikely that Wanda would suddenly decide to give her a gift, and equally unlikely that her wife, Y/n, was in control of her actions.

Wanda’s spell on Westview had cruelly separated Agatha and Y/n. Day after day, Agatha was forced to watch Y/n wonder, flirt, and be a pawn in the whatever plot Wanda was acting out. The two had not interacted a single time during this whole ordeal, making Agatha’s days feel endless.

Y/n being one door down and yet completely out of her reach had been driving her slightly insane. Although, she did appreciate the proximity as it allowed her to keep an eye out for any threats.

“What happened did someone chase you?” Y/n paused and looked around, she had never been inside Agatha’s home before. In fact she had never even spoken to the woman, and yet she had the oddest sensation that being here with the woman was exactly where she belonged. Y/n dug through the deepest recesses of her mind, and looked at the woman in question.

It was only then that it occurred to Y/n the peculiarity of the situation. How was it that Agatha wasn’t asleep? Everyone in Westview followed the town’s curfew, yet here Agatha was, fully dressed in day clothes and awake as ever.

She ignored Agatha’s question and posed one of her own, “How is it that we are both awake right now?”

The dark haired woman sucked in a breath. Y/n never ceased to surprise her, she should have known her wife would move against the grain even when dark magic compelled her to fall in line.

“We must not be susceptible to lullabies…” She searched Y/n’s eyes for understanding. Her crypticness only seemed to agitate her wife further. If she wanted to get away from Wanda’s prying eyes she would have to convince Y/n to come down to the cellar, where her ruins are.

Agatha arched an eyebrow, “Care for a drink?” Y/n nodded and followed her to the kitchen. On autopilot she started making the woman a vodka soda, but as she reached to place it down on the counter Y/n grabbed her wrist.

“How did you know my drink?” Not releasing her hold, Y/n pushed into the woman’s personal space, trying to intimidate her. Backing her into the wall she asked again, “What do you know?”

Agatha swallowed, the longing that had built up these past few months had left her positively starved for her wife’s touch. The feeling of the woman's body pressed against hers made her release a whimper. Y/n eyes darkened, and her breathe became shallow at the small noise Agatha emitted. Her grip on the woman's wrist loosened and she soothingly rubbed the pads of her fingertips against the reddened skin.

Even with no memory, Agatha thought to herself, the woman before her was still her sweet Y/n. Still caring even when frustrated and fighting.

For a moment, they stayed in that position, tightly pressed against the wall, breathing the same air until the lights of the house suddenly cut out. Y/n gasped as they were plunged into darkness. She clung onto Agatha, "What's going on, please I need to know."

She slipped out of the hold and tugged Y/n's hand gently, "You'll have to come with me." Silently they walked down the basement stairs. Large stones with carvings were littered across the floor, coming together to make a pentagram and Agatha guided them to the center. Wisps of purple floated through the air, like cotton candy being carried by the wind. In awe, Y/n reached out and gently touched it, it crinkled and cracked against her fingers like electricity. She turned to Agatha, waiting for an explanation.

...

They sat across from each other on the floor, far more relaxed as the reality of the situation was brought to light.

"And you're working to stop Wanda?" Y/n clarified.

"Well, now we're working to stop Wanda."

"But who exactly are we?" Agatha bit her lip before responding, "I'm your wife."

Y/n's eyes widened, she wished she could say it was in disbelief but she was mostly impressed with herself. A slow smile spread across her face, cat like and absolutely predatory, "Is that why you liked me corning you earlier?"

Agatha flushed, "You have to understand, I've been alone for months," as the woman explained herself Y/n started a slow crawl forward, "and having to watch you-"

"You've been watching me?"

"No! I mean yes, but not like that." Agatha buried her head in her hands. She jumped slightly feeling Y/n's hand close around her ankle, using her strength to drag the woman closer.

Once there was little space between them, Y/n carded her fingers through Agatha's hair, "That sounds awful, but I have to say, I'm glad you were alone" her grip tightened on the brown strands tugging her head back and exposing her neck, "I wouldn't want anyone else keeping you company."

Agatha's eyes closed as Y/n's lips met her neck, the feeling distracted her from the hand unfastening her jeans. She opened them when Y/n huffed with impatience. Agatha would have stopped to tease but she had waited too damn long for this. She made quick work of the pants and slid them down her smooth legs. The moment she was unoccupied Y/n hands were back on her, squeezing and rubbing every inch of skin almost as if she was confirming that Agatha was truly there.

Everyone else in Westview had seemed hallow, like a projection of a person, but Agatha was real. She was real and soft, and radiated heat.

Their mouths clashed against each other's and Agatha moved to straddle Y/n's leg. She slowly brought her hips down and rocked forward. Agatha broke the kiss as a shuddered breath left her. Purple clouds started gathering above the ruins, churning with energy. Peering above her, Y/n smirked at the display of uncontrolled magic. She could feel wetness gather on her thigh as Agatha's movements became rythmic, and the clouds above them rumbled.

Moaning into the other woman's mouth, Agatha's cunt clenched around nothing. Moving her hands to the woman's waist, Y/n forced her to move faster. Beads of sweat ran down Y/n's neck as the room grew humid, she looked at the beautiful woman above her, her wife. In act of pure possession she bit the soft flesh between her neck and shoulder, sinking her teeth in until she felt skin break. Agatha cried out and a loud crack sounded behind them, her hips stuttered to a halt and her toes curled at the sensation washing over her. Y/n ran her tongue over the bite soothingly and continued moving Agatha's hips until she pushed her away, overstimulated.

Cheeks flushed and out of breath, Agatha let out a laugh. Following her line of sight, Y/n turned to see what she was looking at. A spot on the floor was scorched.

It appeared as though lightening had struck.

[emergency-plan]

DPxDC Idea

I had a little idea an have no time to actually write a fic, so I just wrote a sorta-summary and am posting it like this.

This is inspired by the game Home Safety Hotline and may contain hints to spoilers for that game. It's really clever, I really like it. I recommend you play it if slightly spooky without any "real" horror appeals to you.

Alright, Danny's been Ghost King for a few years and has realized more than just his usual rogues make their way to the living world, and a lot of those ghosts don't stay in Amity. By himself, it'd take forever to track down all those spirits and specters that are out causing mischief. Luckily, not many that escaped his notice are all that powerful and could only cause minor disturbances, just enough to get noticed by the living.

Many people outside Amity don't even recognize the activity as ghosts, so they blame other sources. Scratching in the walls is mistaken as mice, whispers and apparitions are mistaken as hallucinations and carbon monoxide hallucinations, attempted overshadowings mistaken as stokes or migraines. In this day and age, where does everyone turn to when looking for advice or how to solve problems? The internet.

Team Phantom devise a method to try and track down ghosts that are stuck or tormenting the living by building a website meant to look like a help hotline, and with some algorithm trickery make it one of the top options when searching for signs similar to ghost presences. Add some bits and bobs to make it appear as a more normal-looking website on any computer affiliated with government organizations, and you’ve got some protection from the GIW.

Calls start slowly, so the three of them can handle it by themselves. Once more people are calling, they decide to start a call center. They hired some trusted people around Amity and even a few ghosts who want to help. To get around worrying about the ghosts messing with the tech while personally taking a call, they decide to automate the system to record caller’s reports for the employees to listen to, and then send a report back, offering their services to bring the spirit back to the Realms.

It’s been surprisingly lucrative, and Danny hasn’t had to dip into his kingly funds much other than at the start. He still keeps prices low, just enough to not garner suspicions at offering a free service while paying his workers fairly (he doesn’t want to know why some of the ghosts want mortal money). What he’s started having more trouble with is not enough employees to take the calls. Sometimes ghosts lose track of time and don’t show up for their shifts (he doesn’t blame them, time gets weird in the Ghost Zone), and he’s run out of people he trusts who want the job.

Eventually he decides to put out an ad, deciding he’ll slowly trust whoever takes the job with a little more information over time, see how they react, and measure to see if they’re trustworthy.

What he doesn’t think about is how posting it on the website will let more people than just those that live in Amity apply.

Meanwhile, in Gotham, one Cassandra Cain is looking for a job. She doesn’t need the money, B gives her access to way too much, but she wants the experience. She’s at the age she’s heard most kids get a job, and she wants to see what it’s like.

And she quickly found out retail and fast food are NOT for her. She doesn’t think those conditions are fit for anyone, honestly. She’d have to see if she could get Bruce to work on that. But that still leaves her out of a job. She got overwhelmed with a lot of people, so virtual options would probably be best, and something that let her interact with people without having to speak. There weren’t a lot of options out there, and she wasn’t skilled enough with a computer yet to take programming ones.

That’s when she found the listing for the hotline call center. Based in a small Illinois town, but had virtual options, listen to recorded customer calls, diagnose their issue, and send an information packet on potential next steps. It was indirect, could also help her practice her reading, and flexible. It was perfect.

It didn’t take long to hear back after she applied (Danny was freaking out, he didn’t think anyone outside Amity would apply. He’d turn this kid down, but she’d mentioned her difficulties with speaking in her application and SWEETY YOU DONT MENTION STUFF LIKE THAT ON AN APPLICATION. But she said the job would be perfect for her and he just couldn’t…) and she got the job!

Her first day rolls around and she’s given access to the database. A lot has been redacted, but she has descriptions for common problems like mice, carbon monoxide, black mold, etc. she gets her first call recording and carefully reads through the entries before selecting the one that sounds right. She sends it off and waits for the next. The calls come a little too regularly, with too similar intervals between them, so she figures her new employer is testing how well she’s doing (Danny’s giving her previous resolved calls that weren’t anything supernatural. She even got the ants right! He had even gotten that wrong!)

Eventually, her shift ends and she tells her family how well her first day went at dinner. They congratulate her and go on patrol as usual. The next day, things ramp up a little.

She logs into the database at the beginning of her shift and noticed some new entries. She now had access to descriptions of shades, blob ghosts, will o’ wisps, and more minor spirits. She gets a recording reminding her all this info is confidential and that she’s not allowed to share it with anyone. She’s a little confused, but she reads through each just as carefully. The calls come less regularly, so she figures she’s actually connected to the system now (Danny gave her access to the most common ghosts they get calls about and is listening in while he’s handling ghosts to make sure she doesn’t get anything she’s not prepared for).

Her shift ends and over dinner, she mentions that she’s had to diagnose some odd things. They assure her there’s more pests and hazards out there than you’d expect. She doesn’t tell her family about the distraught woman haunted by the Ecto-Echo of her husband’s habit of making her coffee every morning after he passed a few weeks ago. Or the person who had a Shade masquerading as their shadow. Just about one of her caller's cockroach problem.

The next day follows a similar pattern; more entries, slightly more powerful ghosts, reminder that the info she's been given access to is confidential and could get people hurt if it got in the wrong hands, congratulated for her good work, read through carefully and learn signs of each, diagnose calls, before calling it a day (Danny was so proud of her, she'd only confused a blob ghost with a ghost animal once, and it hadn't caused him any trouble when he went to collect them).

She'd used the bat-computer to check up on some of the callers she'd diagnosed, and they seemed to be doing fine. Some had posted about their weird experiences on their social media and how her employer had somehow helped them, but often didn't quite know how (Danny liked to hide his powers, so most of what customers saw was him using ghost tech. When it couldn't be solved with just a quick souping, he had to pull a little ghostly trickery while the customer wasn't watching). She didn't know how her boss was somehow across the world multiple times a day to help clients in different countries, but he seemed to at least be helping people. She started not having any stories she could tell her family at dinner.

At some point, she heard reports that one of the speedsters probably messed with time travel again before clocking into her shift. She had almost all the available entries and had gotten very good at recognizing tricky cases. She answered a recorded call, just like at the beginning of each of her shifts, but this one was a little different. Danny had sent out an announcement to be on the lookout for a specific phenomena that often occurred after shifts in reality, as they were highly dangerous and needed to be dealt with swiftly.

She studied each entry and paused on what she was supposed to keep a careful eye out for. Revenants, corpses that came back to life, often seen shambling around the graveyards they were buried in. Something about that sounded familiar. A section in their entry said the person brought back often had a ghost in the Realms (which she still didn't know what that was) that was in terrible pain from shifts in reality trying to pull them back to their body, but the separation of dimensions preventing them.

Expectedly, she did get a call from someone convinced there was a zombie wandering somewhere along the east coast. She double checked it couldn't be anything else before submitting it and notifying her boss.

Curious, and she knew no one would be in the batcave around this time of day, she brought her laptop with her down to the bat-computer. She found cameras in the area the caller reported, and froze at what she saw. Shambling across an abandoned street was a rotting corpse. It really did look like a zombie. It was covered in dirt, wearing an old-fashioned suit, and had skin sloughing off its bones.

But what Cass could only focus on was how much its movements read that it was in pain. It was suffering in such a horrible way its mindless being didn't even deserve. It was horrible.

Then, there was a flash of green and an area of the cameras were covered in static. The glitched portion somehow read with kindness and pity. It slowly approached the corpse, simple reaching out gently (what was presumably a hand), ignoring the way it lashed out. It suddenly fell, caught and slowly lower to the ground by the strange being she couldn't see. It closed the thing's eyes before carrying it off in the direction the map said a graveyard could be found.

After that, she finished her shift and went to dinner. Her family asked if she was alright, and she only replied it'd been a long day.

She clocked in early the next day and messaged her boss for more information on Revenants. Dinner that night was one of the few times Jason agreed to come by, and if he noticed how she kept glancing at him, he didn't say anything.

A week later, she asked her boss what might happen if a Revenant was exposed to, as it was called in its entry, a "Corrupted Ecto-Spring" ("...an ugly hole in the fabric of reality that connects the world of the living to the Realms. The ectoplasm that leaks through the tear stagnates and festers into toxic pools that kills humans and makes ghosts sick."). Danny requested a video call.

[strikethematch18]

I Want You

Dazai x Reader

word count: 2,001

TW: Mentions of homelessness, loss of home, housing insecurity

Reader ability is not specified.

This has not been proofed or edited

Reader has recently been evicted from her run down apartment with a weeks notice, and has problems trying to find temporary housing. She strikes out with every coworker, but leaves one out thinking it would be an automatic no.

m.list

The process of finding a place to live was much harder than you originally thought. After your apartment building was being shut down and you were forced to move by the end of week, you found yourself in a scramble to find a place to go. You didn't have much, being at the agency, you didn't spend much time in your apartment anyhow.

You did the next logical thing you could do to help your situation. You talked to the president of the ADA, see if he could point you in a direction of options, maybe the agency had a dorm available until you could figure out a more permanent solution. Unfortunately, since Atsushi had started there were no vacant apartments and he was unaware of any other buildings within your budget or could get you in as quick as you needed. He did suggest you speak to your coworkers if you could stay with one of them temporarily, and he would start with Yosano.

And you did, you traveled to the agency infirmary and asked her. Unfortunately, she was unable to allow you due to the hazards of her near fatal tools, it wouldnt be safe. From there she suggested asking someone else. With a forced smile you left and felt your stress increase tenfold.

Once you made it back to your cubical, Kunikida handed you a case file and left it to you take care of. This took you the rest of the day and returned when nearly everyone already left the office. You left for home with a sigh, prepared to start your search again tomorrow.

Upon arrival you kicked your shoes off and started the packing process. Leave the most essential items until the end, but you could start with things you didn't need everyday. Laying out outfits for the remaining time you'd need, you started folding clothes and putting them in a bag. Then came most HBA, you could just wear your hair up and hair wash day wasn't until after your move anyways, that just left soap and some hair ties. Your kitchen had the bare essentials you'd need to eat and cook, but more often than not it was fruit or cup of noodles. After analyzing what you would need to pack you took your evening shower and went to bed.

The next day started as it always does just earlier than normal. You wanted to get into the agency before as many of your coworkers as possible to not raise suspicion of your bag of clothes and toiletries. The hiding spot wasn't the most hidden, but it wouldn't be in the way and obvious either. Arriving at work, you somehow managed to just barely show up before kunikida, stuffing your bag under your desk before he could see. While you needed to move and find a place to live, you didn't want people to see how dire the situation really is.

It was a relatively slow day, a stray case here and there, some allowed you to go with your coworkers and have one on one conversations. Given the opportunity you'd ask if you could stay with them until you could find another place. So far, you were striking out.

Over the week you had collectively been bringing you things to the agency before you couldn't anymore and still had nowhere to go by the end of the day.

You couldn't impose on the brother sister duo of the Tanizaki's, so you didn't ask.

You briefly asked Kenji but stopped yourself due to his young age and mannerisms.

Kunikida turned you down due to you staying would impose on his strict schedule where everything was planned to the last second, and no where in it did it leave space for you to crash until you found a place.

Word got around to Atsushi who said he would offer but with him sharing with Kyouka, there wasn't much space.

Asking Ranpo was probably one of the worst things you could do so you didn't. And you were sure he already knew anyways.

Today your tenancy was up, all your things in the agency under your desk with no where to go. You felt so alone and unwanted even though everyone had their reasons. The only option you had was crashing at your desk or finding a street, and the desk seemed more appealing. No one asked if you had actually found a place to go for at least tonight, or maybe they assumed you did. Making up a lie that you were staying late to finish some paperwork, everyone went to their respected living arrangements. All except the former mafia executive who had been watching you and saw past your smiles and knew your nervous ticks. Dazai was the only one you hadn't asked, you just assumed it would be an automatic no and you'd already had enough rejection for the week.

You were under the guise he had left for the evening but he had instead getting something from down the hall. So you finally took a large blanket from a bag under your desk to wrap around yourself, slipped your shoes off and turned sideways in your chair and pulled your feet up to hug your knees. Finally you let the mask slip along with some tears and silent shudders. In your moment of weakness you failed to notice the bandaged man standing in the door way with a deep frown on his face. He was expecting you to possibly break at some point, but not this soon. Watching your breathing pick up he broke his trance and walked over and placed his hand on your shoulder. Not expecting anyone you flinched and looked up to see none other than Dazai himself.

Of course to save face you did your best to wipe your face of any tears and hide any sniffles trying to put the mask back on. You knew it was pointless but pretending things were fine had become your specialty recently.

Giving a strained smile and clearing your throat you addressed the dark haired man, "Hey Dazai, I thought you already went home when everyone else did, you usually leave early."

"Not today, I thought I would stay a little longer for once."

Honestly, he was staying because he knew you didn't have a place to go tonight, and the one thing he couldn't figure out was why you didn't come to him, and he planned to ask but was waiting until the right time.

"Any particular reason for acting out of character?" You asked with a forced smile.

Really what you wanted was for him to go home so you could try to sleep in your bed of an office chair until further notice. More than anything though you wanted the mask to slip, the week was exhausting physically, but also mentally and emotionally. And stopping and restarting that mask made it increase tenfold. He could see your exhaustion which was precisely why he didn't leave.

"Just reasons, thought maybe I could set up a prank of Kunikida for when he comes in tomorrow morning. and what reason do you have to be here late Y/N, curling up in your chair like that doesn't seem like working to me," he sing songedly replied.

Just for a moment you let the smile fade from your face before you forced the facade back on, "I thought maybe I could take a bit and get comfy for a break."

"There's no work on your desk."

"I'm in-between tasks right now"

"And the bags you've been hiding under your desk and around the agency over the last week?" He suddenly turned slightly monotone.

Apparently he had figured you out. It was too hard to keep the smile from slipping, but you tried nonetheless. It was hard to notice, and had you been anyone else, you wouldn't have seen the slight grimace he gave watching you try to portray something you weren't. He knew what was going on and you didn't even have to tell him, and he couldn't help but wonder why you didn't come clean.

You were unable to formulate a response, you knew it was pointless to try and fool him. He was too smart for that, too perceptive. So you did the only thing you could think of in the moment, you looked down and let your loose hair that fell out of your slightly oily bun ages ago, cover your face. There was nothing you could say, you didn’t even know why you even tried to hide your reasoning for being at the office well after closing from the Osamu Dazai.

Dazai removed his hand on your shoulder and moved it slowly towards your face, tucking the curtain of hair in front of it behind your ears one side of a time before placing two fingers under your chin and nudging it up to look at him. He was surprisingly startled by the silent tears falling down your face, leaving tracks behind. For once he doesn’t think logically, in fact he doesn’t think at all as he moves his hand to your cheek before using his thumb, wiping your tears away. That’s all it takes for you to crumble into broken pieces as your shoulder begin to shake.

”Dazai?”

He simply hums in response, desperate to not lose eye contact with you.

“How come n-no one wants m-me?” You can’t help but shudder out.

Eye contact be damned, he knew your starvation for physical touch, he knew because he was the same. He buffered for a moment at your question before he threw his arms around you, pressing you tightly into his frame as you cried, let out your shudders and whimpers in a safe space.

And he wasn’t accepting any of this, he wasn’t going to let you wallow in your own pity, ashamed of being found out for something out of your control. Dazai knew what that was like, before he had joined the mafia he had already been a master at hiding it; the only one who saw right through him was Chuuya and that ship had sailed a long time ago. So no, he was not going to let you suffer in silence anymore than you had over the past week. Not when he knew he had an answer.

Before he could stop himself, and after a few minutes as you calmed down he finally responded, “I do.”

Looking up and blinking at him like an owl you’re not quite sure you heard him right, “What?”

With a tone of certainty he repeated himself, “I do. I want you.”

Your mouth slightly agape as he took a breath to pause before continuing, “Stay with me. Come home with me.”

”I- Dazai.”

”You never asked me, why?”

”I just - I thought- I had already been rejected enough and the idea of another-“

”Would have been the straw that broke you,” he finished for you.

”Yeah.”

Before he gave you the option to decline, he grabbed the last bag you brought in this morning, obviously all the stuff you needed day to day, and put it on his shoulder. Dazai then proceeds to grab your hand, pulling you up and starts to drag you across the room.

”Dazai wait!”

“Nope, no time like the present m’lady. It’s late, want to get home before all the creepers come out to play!”

”No Dazai seriously, I need to put my shoes back on,”

Immediately he stops, runs back to your desk to gab the shoes underneath it, and proceeds to come back and kneel in front of you, forcefully putting your shoes back on your feet. All with a shit-eating grin on his face.

You gasp as he grabs your hand again and pulls you towards the stairs,

”I-Dazai-“

”Osamu.” His tone strong and serious as he interupts you.

”What?”

”Osamu. If we’re going to live together, call me by my given name.”

“Thank you, Daz- Osamu.”

[izvmimi]

cw: pseudocest. implied one-sided love triangle. reader is technically a silva. yandere undertones.

As in every royal family, secrets abound, some out in the open whether by force or by inevitably, like the fact that you may or may not be your father’s child, and that as a result you may not be a true royal, nor a true Silva, and others more well-kept, somehow even more scandalous.

Like the fact that your purported first cousin by murky blood is in love with you.

“Noelle will wonder where I am, Nozel,” you murmur. It’s late evening in Spring, and you’ve come back to the estate on his request for a ‘family meeting.’ By now, the four main Silva children have grown up, Nozel the oldest and head of the family, now in his early 30s and yet to marry, and as such the differences that marked growing up have now resolved. You’ve been raised in and out of their home due to your father’s inability to parent without the help of a madam, and his unwillingness to marry someone that wasn’t your mother, so naturally, you found your way back here with Noelle. Emotional support never hurts, and you love your cousin dearly. 

However, this part of any interaction with this - your - family is hardest to navigate - the fact that Nozel has wanted you for many years, and now has become bold enough to pressure you to marry him.

“But you agree that it looks bad that I’ve remained single all this time,” Nozel states. You look up at him, holding in your desire to roll your eyes before letting out a sigh. The two of you are caught up in a hallway, far from the main wing where dinner had been served, far from prying eyes. You often end up like this these days, him far too deep into your space, his face leaned into yours, that stupid front facing braid close enough that it practically grazes your nose.

“Not as bad as marrying your first cousin,” you remind him.

He rolls his eyes.

“Everyone knows that that cannot possibly be true.” He steps back, and crosses his arm. “Whatever Uncle insisted on is quite silly, I don’t understand why he was so desperate to refuse to admit that you are but his stepdaughter. We would not have treated you any differently-” he starts, but you scoff, covering your mouth with your handkerchief.

“You failed to treat your actual sister well and you dare project the illusion of fairness?”

Nozel’s pale violet eyes narrow, and you look away. You don’t know if you’ll ever stand up to him - it’s been possibly 15 years since the first time you were brought into the Silva family, holding your father’s hand at the doorstep. Nozel had looked at you with so much contempt, that your 8 year old self wondered if you were dirty or particularly hideous, while Noelle had immediately taken your hand, grin wide before she was practically dragged away by her siblings. What irony is it today that even if he’s spared you today, you can still remember him forcing your chin steady and kissing you just weeks ago, confirming your long-held suspicions that he was really crazy enough to do it. 

To try to own you completely. 

“Do you have better options, ___?” he asks. 

You’re not too old to find a suitor, even if the search has not started for you, but you know that’s not what he means. You would be hard pressed to find a man of similar rank, intelligence, beauty or magic ability, and the two of you are well aware of this fact. Even if someone were to object to your union on the basis of close parentage, your father cannot stop him from beyond the grave, and the kingdom may speak, but ultimately no one could truly prevent your union.

Except you, technically, but at times, you wonder if you even really have a choice.

“I don’t, but I would like to continue to have some time to follow my dreams.”

Nozel offers you a small smile, his hand finding its way onto your right cheek and caressing it. “I’m quite delighted you have your own dreams.” 

You don’t like the way he says that, and as his hand falls gently from your cheek to his side, you understand that the implication is that of a father entertained by his child’s dream of becoming a dolphin. Ridiculous. 

“If you are concerned about Noelle’s whereabouts, I’ll leave you to go find her,” he says, now letting his hands rest behind him, and changing the subject. Where he’s touched you is still asymmetrically warm, as though you can feel all 5 fingers, as though he’s marked you as his. You remember braiding Noelle’s hair in between your legs at age 14, and her 11, and him appearing to watch the two of you for far too long. You’d thought the psychological protective barrier you had around “talentless” Noelle is what repelled Solid and Nebra whenever you came around and fascinated Nozel, but there was something else entirely. 

As Nozel leaves you to ponder this not-quite marriage proposal, you shudder. You take a few steps down the hallway to find the banquet room, then slowly find yourself sinking to the ground.

Your legs are shaking, not from fear per se, not from desire either (although logically it’s not unfathomable that you could ever grow to like or even love him) but out of a sheer understanding that your life could so easily begin and end with him in just a few short years. 

Your time with the Black Bulls may have spoiled you these last several years, offering you freedom you’ve never had with the Silva family. It’s helped both you and Noelle grow, and while Noelle is no longer under the thumb of her siblings due to her immense power and indomitable spirit, you are simply not as strong as her, nor do you have the advantage of legitimate birth into royalty no matter how much your father tried to give it to you out of respect and adoration of your mother. 

You are far more at Nozel’s mercy than you would like to be. To think all these years you spent protecting that little girl, only to find out that she was far more safe than you’d ever be.

Do you have better options?

On paper, no, not a chance in hell. In your heart, possibly. 

Before that smile can come to mind, you shake it out of your head and scramble to your feet, Noelle rushing down to find you. 

“Gosh, where the hell have you been? We need to leave this place, I don’t even know why I bothered coming,” she starts. It was a show of kindness, but she’s naturally lost interest. Her purple eyes scan to you a little too long, and you force a smile to dispel your unrest. She cannot see it. You’ve hidden the way he looks at you for this many years, no need to reveal everything now. 

You don’t want to spend any time explaining your predicament, not to her, not to the Black Bulls. 

Not to…

“Asta was hoping we’d meet up with him and Luck and Magna in an hour. What do you think?” she asks. Then quickly, her face turns red and she rephrases herself, as she’s done for years. “Not that it matters that much, you know. I don’t care what he thinks at all! I’m actually considering not going.”

You smile. 

“Let’s go.”

You take her hand, and you are young kids again, and like a child, dirty laundry ceases to be your responsibility.

For now.

[yeonmuse]

ONE OF THE GIRLS | DAY 6

PAIRING Lead Singer Hyunjae x Dj Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.7k

GENRE Smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️

SUMMARY Jaehyun was used to getting his way when it came with women, but unfortunate enough for him, you were making him work for it that night.

MORE | Day six of the Groupie Love Series

Hyunjae was used to getting whatever he wanted, he was used to girls falling at his feet and praising him, begging and pleading to go back home with them even if it was for one night alone, they just wanted to be one of his girls. So when he entered the after party and his eyes landed on you at the dj booth with your perfect hair and your omweekend set that hugged your curves just right he knew he had to get you wrapped around his finger just like all the others. The only issue with that being you were the type to make a man work for it.

It was Saturday night and his best friend Kim Younghoon had been throwing an after party after having just performed at his final show of the tour season. Making his way inside his eyes scanned over the many options in the room, amidst his search his eyes landed on Eric who had been leaned over the counter laughing with some girl that he must have just met tonight, he figured since had never seen her with him before.

“Nice one Eric.’’ Slowly, but surely his gaze landed on you at the dj booth and all of the other women in the room immediately ceased to exist, tonight he’d have you.

Just like Hyunjae you had been a good friend of Younhoons, the two of you had known each other when you were younger but met one another again at a celebrity event a few years back and you both hit it off so well, so well that he had not only called upon you to dj most of his parties, but you also owned copyrights to most of his bands older songs. You had been used to this whole party scene by now and you absolutely lived for it. The flashing lights, the loud music and smell of alcohol combined with a hint of weed and cigarette smoke. It was the only life you’d ever known since the day you decided upon becoming a dj. Of course it wasn’t like you needed to do anything after all you were pretty much a nepo baby so your name and face had been amongst the bright lights long before you decided to start your career. Having been the daughter of one of the hottest music companies in the city, you could have easily decided to do nothing with your life but that life was not meant for you. Maybe the younger you wouldn’t have minded settling down somewhere letting daddy dearest pay all the bills, but as an adult you loved the feeling of making your own money with a career you loved. You were certainly a career girl, yes you loved the parties and the thrill of adventure, but one line you’d never cross was mixing business with pleasure your career always came first. To anyone that knew you were practically untouchable, everyone that knew your name was well aware. Everyone except for Lee Hyunjae, though it’s not like that would have stopped him from pursuing you anyways.

Hyunjae wasted no time pushing past the ongrowing crowd and making his way over to the dj booth where you stood seemingly looking through your setlist. He watches as you pull your headphones from your ears and slip them around your neck.

“If you’re here to request the next play I already have fifty other people asking the same thing, it’s a fixed setlist.” Hyunjaes' brows raise in pure amusement , did you really think that he was just some regular wanting to request a song?

“I’m not really interested in what gets played tonight but i’d talk about music all night if that’s what it takes for me to get your number by the end of the night.’’ at his words you simply laughed and leaned down to face him over your booth. His eyes of course not so subtly landed on your chest taking in the view as if it was some sort of art displayed at a museum.

“Do lines like those often work for you?’’

“Well no usually all it takes is a look.’’ Hyunjaes sly remark and obvious smirk makes your eyes roll back

“Well maybe you should test it out on one of the other pretty ladies here, I'm sure one of them is bound to fall for your unspoken charm, but I'm not one of them.” you respond back, sarcasm laced within your tone as you blew him off before locking your eyes back onto your computer screen.

“I don’t know, I think I'd rather stay and keep you company,no one here seems to pique my interest the way you do right now.”

“Fascinating , another line i’m sure you used time and time again.” Hyunjae simply chuckles at your dismissive attitude, he wasn’t used to being blown off like you had been doing right now, shooting down his effort line after line. Though he wasn’t mad at it, he liked the thrill of having to warm you up to him, it would make it all the more attractive to have you on your knees begging for him after having been rejected by you time and time again.

“Since, you’re gonna be stalking me the entire night might as well tell me your name.’’ you speak absentmindedly as your eyes remain glued to your setlist.

“Lee hyunjae, lead singer of Wolfsbane.’’

“Ah so you’re one of Younghoons friends, explains a lot?’’

“Oh? Care to share?”

“Younghoon himself is pretty full of himself sometimes, no surprise that someone with lines like yours is associated with him.’’

“You sound like you know him pretty well?’’

“I’ve known him since diapers, i think i'm far past just knowing him ‘pretty well’.’’

“So Younghoons been keeping you to himself all this time then, of course he would be the one to keep someone as beautiful as you to himself.’’

“You just keep these lines coming don’t you?’’ Hyunjae finally seemed to gain a smile and a soft laugh from you at his persistence, it wasn’t much to go off of , but he considered it a win.

“Happy to know I can bring a smile to those beautiful lips.’’ Although he was satisfied with having made you laugh, Hyunjae couldn’t help but wonder what else he could get you to do with those pretty lips of yours.

To your surprise Hyunjae had kept his word when he said that he would stick by the booth the entire night, only ever leaving it to grab drinks for the two of you or use the restroom. You have to admit compared to the many other guys you’d turn down, out of every one of them Hyunjae was quite persistent. Halfway through the party you had been showing Hyunjae the controls to your setup when a one of the part goers drunk off their ass decided it was a good idea to come up on the booth for a dance which ended in them spelling their drink on your shirt and Hyunjae having to stop you from kicking their ass on the spot. Hyunjae of course found it hot seeing how riled up it had gotten , but he knew no god would come out of whooping the idiots ass when he was already drunk off it. As his arms wrapped around your waist and scooped you back up to the booth he found himself holding you there a little longer than he should have, an action that went unnoticed by you

“I’m sure younghoon has something you could borrow in his room one sec.’’ Hyunjae slips away from you for a moment asking Eric who was now soaking wet since the last time he saw him for reasons he didn’t even bother to ask.

“You mind looking after the DJ booth for a minute? And please don’t touch anything.’’

“Sure thing.’’

Moments later Hyunjae returned to the booth with eric who you were a little skeptical about leaving behind to look after your equipment, but in the moment it was either stand here the entire night smelling like pineapple and tequila, or trust that Hyunjae had found someone suitable enough to look after your stuff. Obviously you chose the latter, following Hyunjae as he pushed past the crowd and up the staircase into what you assumed was Younghoons bedroom.

“I’ll find you something and just take your shirt down to the laundry room before the night ends.’’

While you made your way into the bathroom , Hyunjae rummaged through Younghoons closet to find something suitable for you to wear. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he went through it all and happened to find some girls' clothes amongst his own. Just as he suspected he ended up finding a white crop top and woman's skirt. Hyunjae made his way out of Younghoons closet finally having found something for you to throw on but was stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes landed on you emerging from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around your body and water trickling down your neck.

“Did you find anything?’’

At this point Hyunjae had no longer been listening to a word you were saying, he was too busy taking a mental image of you stood right before him in nothing, but a towel.

“hyunjae?’’

“Fuck this.’’ Throwing the clothes he had just found off to the side he wasted no time walking up to you and smashing his lips against yours, pushing you dead against the glass window behind you. Before you knew it he had pulled your towel off and threw it somewhere on the other side of the room. His hands roamed your body as if he had been trying to memorize every dip and curve. His lips hungrily kissing and sucking at your soft and supple lips that had felt even softer than he imagined they would.

“Hyunjae wait- we can’t.’’ his hand immediately made its way to your neck, silencing you almost instantaneously and making you press your thighs together, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“We can't, what baby? You’ve been turning me down all night now look at you a complete mess when i haven’t even touched you yet. What happened to not falling for my charm sweetheart?’’ he was entirely right, the entire time you had been turning him down and now that he had you cornered her the only thing you could think about was the ache between your thighs.

“On your knees princess, i wanna see how you look with your pretty lips wrapped around me baby.’’

“But- someone might see.’’

“I don’t care let them, I want them to see who’s got you like this, looking all pretty and vulnerable. Want them to know just how pretty you look all fucked out, lips swollen and know that i’m the only one that can get you.’’

The more he spoke the more you felt like every thought in your head had turned to mush. While holding eye contact with him you slowly but surel kneel down before him.

“Good girl, look how well you’re listening now.’’ Flashing his lower stomach as he busies himself with pulling his cock out of his pants. You find yourself vaguely scandalized at the sight. His cock is just as pretty as his fingers. He slowly, steadily tilts your head up. When he draws back, you lean in insistently, ignoring a little shiver on his part at how close your face gets. You find your mouth running dry at the glimmer of a tiny drop of pre-cum at the tip of his cock, at least before it gets swept away by his fingers.

“Open.” You obediently open your mouth, sticking out your tongue and letting a wine spill from your lips as he slides his finger from your tongue allowing you to taste him for the first time.

His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he holds your face. You watched the way his face contorts as he shoved himself past your lips ignoring the way you gag and choke on him. The flat of your tongue presses to the tip, and you find yourself moaning at the way his whole body seems to flinch. A hum vibrates in his chest. Your mouth envelops his cock, and Hyunjae grips hard at your hair, fisting it up into a ponytail. He stops making noise altogether as your lips venture mid-way, holding his breath while you pause to run your tongue against the underside. Then, when you hollow your cheeks and pull back up, a ragged sound escapes his throat. Pre-cum spurts over your tastebuds. Sinking down, you take him deeper with each bob of your head, building into a steady, consistent rhythm which drives Hyunjae all the more mad.

“Fuck You look so pretty, your pretty lips sucking on me like a desperate little thing even with tears in your eyes.”

Low growls hit your ears when he begins to buck his hips up to meet your mouth, gripping tighter onto your dark locs he mercilessly fucks deep into your mouth hitting the back of your throat over and over again without considering for your gags and chokes. He thought you looked the prettiest right now, the image of you with a mouthful of his cock and tears running down your sweet face was all he needed to see to know he wouldn’t be going easy on you tonight.

“You’re doing so good baby, just a little longer for me yeah?” At this point the way you were taking him had him seeing stars. It wasn’t until he looked down at you to see your big beautiful eyes looking up at him so desperately that his hips began to falter and you took over once again knowing he was close to release. Watching the way you sucked and slurped on his cock was enough to push him over the edge. Hyunjaes

cum flows down your throat, giving you a surge of energy.

“Fuck you look so beautiful.” Not giving you any room to breathe his lips smashed onto yours as he lifted you up from the floor and presses you stairs the glass of the window.

lifting your hips he watches the expression on your face contort as he slides into you. He began to thrust into you with feverish intent, loving the way you cried out at how he stretched and opened you up. The sound of skin smacking masking your cries. He’s hot and pulsing deep inside of sending jolts of pleasure up your spine that make your eyes roll back. His hands grip your hips, and his cock fills you up properly, the dark bedroom only full of the sounds of sex and his eyes downcast on your form taking in every detail of your fucked out frame.

“Look at you, all drunk and fucked out on my cock, i bet you don’t even care in the slightest that anyone could be watching us from outside right now is that right princess?”

“N-no, f-fuck hyunjae.” He's giddy at the way you moan out his name and his hand immediately takes its rightful place around your throat.

“How about we give them a different view, yeah!” Pulling out of you he turned you around, bending you over so that you were facing the window having an exact view of Younghoons backyard where a few of the guests had been standing around.

“Let them see how pretty you look taking my cock baby, so fucking pretty.”

Without warning he shoves back into you from behind pulling you close to his chest and wrapping his hand tightly around your neck as he drilled into you. His skin is heated and feverish against yours and you allow his body to stick to yours with the sweat beading off his chest. You squeeze around him, earning another one of those sweet moans from him that fluttered your stomach every time you hear it. As you felt him twitch inside of you there was a burning sensation enveloping the inside of your stomach, as you came around his cock he came for the second time that night, his cum completely coating your walls, anything that corner fit dripping right out of your cunt and onto your thighs.

[ljz002-world]

Revenge, Part 5

At this Y/N looked up at the older man with wide eyes, “W-What?” “You heard me. Do you still want to kill me?” “Where’d you get that from?”, Y/N asked trying to keep it lighthearted while hyperventilating within herself. “You know exactly what I mean and where I get it from”, Thomas stated as his grip on the girl hardened, he held her shoulder painfully hard, Y/N knew it would leave a bruise for sure. “Tommy…”, Y/N said, hissing as his grip hardened even more, “Tommy you’re hurting-“ “I don’t care. You answer me.” Thomas said coldly, he didn’t even look at Y/N who was now wincing under his harsh grip as she just shook her head, “N-No, let go of me and I’ll explain everything- just stop hurting me!”

Thomas let out a hard sigh as he released his grip on the girl, causing her to sit up harshly, pulling the blanket to cover her chest up as she looked at Thomas with hurt eyes, her gaze shaking as she took a deep breath. “And? I’m fucking waiting.” Y/N looked down, glancing at the gun discarded by the bedside table, an action which led Thomas to take it before she could even reach for it, “Don’t even think about it.”

Y/N gulped as her gaze hardened, she was scared but still dedicated, “On September 5th 1916 you killed my father-“ “I killed people, but I never killed your father-“ “You were with the tunnellers, no?! You blew my father up!” “It was war”, Thomas said as he sat up as he saw how close to tears she was, “I never killed him willingly, I killed him for my country, for the king. I didn’t shoot him in the face, I blew him and thousands other up at best. Don’t call me a murderer when your father probably killed just as many men as me-“ “He didn’t”, Y/N sobbed, “He was a strategist, he was never once in battle. One of you tunnels went right under his camp. You blew him up in his sleep!”

Thomas sighed as he just let Y/N scream at him, “You killed a man in his sleep!-“ “And you wanted to do the same? Kill me after having sex with me?” “You’re a dirty gangster Thomas Shelby. You don’t deserve and honorable death”, Y/N hissed at the man, this had caused him to grow angry himself, grabbing onto her upper arm painfully hard, “Don’t fucking say that. I’m a gangster, I’m a horrible man. I’m a bad man, a very bad man. But everyone deserves an honorable death. I’d die a war-hero. Your father, if he was a strategist, he must have had a high standing, he probably died a war hero as well.” “And you killed him! Took my mother’s husband away! Took my father away! Do you know how much I struggled because of you?! How many nights I stayed up late, waiting for my father to come home?! How often I prayed for his safe return?! And you just took him from me!” Y/N just sobbed as she put all of her strength into slapping Thomas, her hand stinging from the impact.

Thomas stood up, putting on his briefs as he walked up and down in his bedroom. “How do you want to kill me?” Y/N looked up, tear stained face looking at the man she had wanted to kill. “And don’t lie to me. I’m having my men searching your house this exact moment. So say it.” “I had different options”, Y/N muttered, not meeting the man’s gaze, “Putting a bullet in your head. Slicing your neck open”, she started listing her options while Thomas listened, “Bashing your head in with something. Poisoning you.” Thomas had roughly grabbed the girl’s face in his hand, forcing her to look at him, “Well you’re not doing any of them. Got it?”  He let go of her face harshly, “What will you do with me now?”, Y/N asked meekly. Thomas scoffed, hands placed on his hips as he shook his head, “I don’t know. I could kill you, I could let my men have their go at you. I won’t do that, I’m not that cruel. Not to a grieving daughter”, he said as he saw how Y/N’s eyes filled with horror.

“So you’ll kill me?” “No. You’re grieving, it’s understandable you want someone to put your hate and anger on”, Thomas sat down besides Y/N who was still only covering herself with his blanket. “What then?”

[noodle-is-unstable]

Bound and Beat

All of my writing is completely Gender Neutral Reader. There is no reference to gendered body parts (Imaging a Ken Doll if you will). Due to this I use more vague language, and nothing is as specific or specified. Please be advised this writing style isn't for everyone and it is okay to skip.

Ft ~ Suguru Geto x GN!Reader Kink ~ Bondage and Impact Play Synopsis ~ Staying in and being tied up and hit is all you need for a good Friday night Content Warning ~ 18+, Smut, face fucking, bondage, flog, spanking, light face hitting, rough sex, raw sex, reader gets cummed in. Idk Adult Content.

2.0K Words, I don't proof read

“Some friends asked if we wanted to come out drinking tonight.” You commented, looking down at your phone.

“Oh?  Did you want to go?” Geto raised an eyebrow at you.  You were both home bodies so this happened often.  Your friends would ask you both to hang out but neither of you wanted to be the one to say no incase the other wanted to go.  You also rarely had an excuse and constantly telling them no wasn’t an option, they were still your friends after all.

“I’m okay with going if you want to go.” Both of you knew you didn’t want  to go out.  It was Friday night though, it would probably do you both good to go out.

“I’m good with either.  If you want to go, I’ll come but I’m fine staying home too.” But then again you were already in lounge wear and didn’t really want to get ready to go out.

“Totally up to you, I’m down for anything.” Then again you’ve told your friends you’re busy the last two weekends.

“I mean, you’re closer to them than me.  You should choose.” But you’re adults and also can’t go out drinking every weekend.  You have responsibilities.  Plus the hangovers are foul.

“You knew them first, it’s up to you.” You could always go for one drink, but that’s so much work to get ready and go out for an hour.

“Why not tell them you’re tied up and can’t make it.” Geto whispered in your ear.  But then again you could invite them over for a drink so it's more casual.  Wait, what?  Your thoughts snapped to what Geto said, or more how he said it.  His face was beside yours, lips ghosting your ear.  

“What?” Your voice was almost a whisper, still trying to understand what he said.  That’s not normally how these discussions went.  You’d both go back and forth until you’d reluctantly convince yourself to go..  

“Why not tell them you’re tied up and can’t go?” Geto smirked, hands moving to hold your hips and pull you into him.

“I don’t want to lie to them.” Brows furrowing you bit the inside of your cheek.  The group chat was still going off, waiting for an answer.  The Geto grabbed your chin, pinching your cheeks so your mouth opened and you’d look at him.

“Who said you’d be lying?” He asked with a tilted head.  That’s when his actions and words clicked together.  Your eyes went wide, heart beat increasing.  You were searching his eyes for any hint he was joking but found none.

“So, can I inform them you’ll be preoccupied tonight?” Geto’s lips were curled in an alluring smirk.  Always so smooth and sultry.  All you could do was give a small nod, your cheeks still squeezed in his hand.  He grabbed your phone from you and typed out a quick message before tossing it on the counter.  Before you could say anything he had scooped you into his arms, carrying you to the room.  Not the bedroom, the special spare room where all your extra special and fun sex objects were kept.  

“On the X-cross, handing, or just restrained tonight, Angel?” Geto hummed as he opened the door.  So many options.  You thought for a moment.

“You got us out of going out tonight, so dealer's choice.” You smiled back at him.

“I should save you from social situations more often.” Geto laughed, tenderly kissing your forehead.  “Well, instead of hanging out with friends, I think it would be fitting to have you hanging in a different way.” He hummed, gently placing your feet back on the ground.  You looked up at the hooks and clips on the ceiling that Geto had installed.  

“Clothes off.” He commanded before going to the closet to dig around.  “How rough do you want the ropes to be?” He asked absentmindedly while he grabbed  other things.

“Rough.” You purred with a smile.  There was something about hanging with ropes that gently tore into you that was euphoric.

“Such a masochist.” Geto teased which just made you roll your eyes.

“I was normal and had plain old vanilla sex before I met you.  You’re the real freak here.” You shot back.  This just made him laugh as he pulled out the items.

“Yeah?  And how was it?  How many times did they make you cum or scream their name?” Geto gave you a cocky smirk and raised brow.  Your cheeks went flush as you pouted.  He was right, but did he have to be so loud about it?

“Whatever.” You mumbled.

“That’s what I thought.” Geto chuckled, preparing the rope.  “Now what's the safe word?” He asked as he began to wrap the rope around you.

“Red.” You sighed, letting him lift and move your arms as needed.  He did this every time.  You always had to go through the safety precautions and tell him you consented.  It wasn’t that you were upset he did this, in fact it always made you feel safe.  The issue was you would let him do absolutely anything to you and would thank him after.  Never once had you used the precautions but still, he made sure you knew them and they were in place.

“Mhm, and the action?” Geto asked, now binding your arms behind your back.

“Three snaps or three taps.” You confirm, though with the way your arms were, that wasn’t going to be an option.

“And sound?” Geto moved to your legs, tying one so your ankle was flush to your thigh.

“Three deep grunts in a row.” You squeaked as Geto tightened the rope.

“Great.” Geto smiled, giving your ass a gentle tap.  “Up we go.” He smirked, throwing you over his shoulder like you were weightless.  He began to work the ropes through the hooks and pulleys before hoisting you up.  You were posed with your arms back like angel wings, one leg tied to itself and the other dangling.

“You look ethereal, my Angel.” Geto let out a soft sigh, heart filled eyes as he took in the view.  

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You strain to say, the rope on your ribs restricting their movement.  Then you saw a flash, a polaroid printing out.  

“I always do.” Geto smirked, shaking the picture before adding it to the bulletin board on the wall.  It had hundreds of pictures.  Some of you together, some of just him, but mostly you in precarious positions.  Welts on your ass, tied up, bound and gagged, whatever that session happened to be of.

“Now shall we?” Geto hummed, grabbing a flog.  Your cheeks went flush.  You always seemed to go quiet and shy once you realized the position you were truly in.  Completely helpless, at the mercy of Geto and putting all your trust in him.  A stinging impact hit your left butt cheek, making you suck air in through your teeth.  

“Count them.” Geto instructed.

“One.” You groaned out.  A hand came down on the other side of your ass.

“Two.” You whimpered, the stinging sensation sending waves of pleasure straight through you.  The flog whipped your exposed side.

“Three.” You moaned, eyes already beginning to roll back.

“So filthy of you to get off on getting hit, Angel.” Geto teased, lifting your chin to look at him.  “Open.” He squeezed your cheeks.  Your jaw went slack on his command, a long strand of his spit falling into your mouth.  You happily savored the sweet saliva.

“So filthy.” Geto cooed, gently slapping your cheek twice.  The way you looked up at him, slightly slack jawed, tongue half out and hearts in your eyes had his cock painfully hard.  The way he had barely touched you, but here you were, already dumb and drooling for him.

“Think you deserve a teat?” Geto’s voice was coated in lust, deep and thick with need.  You nodded, swallowing hard.  Your eyes went wide as you watched Geto strip down, hard cock slapping his stomach and leaving a connection of precum.  He walked up to you, grabbing his dick he slapped your cheek with it, leaving a smeared trail of precum.  

“Do you want it?” Geto asked, slapping your cheek again.

“Yes.” You were practically panting, unable to move to claim it for yourself.

“Beg for it Angel.” He smiled down at you.  His tip continued to tap into your cheek as you attempted to nuzzle into it more.

“Pretty please Suguru, please.  I want you so badly, want to taste you, please.” You whined, eyes fixated on his drooling cock.

“Anything for you.  Open up.” Your jaw fell open on his command.  Geto took no time to put his cock between your lips and pull the ropes so he was down your throat.  Your eyes filled with tears at the rough entry.  You gagged on his length, lashes already tearstained.  Even so you didn’t use the  safe sound and Geto took this as encouragement to continue.  With his grip on the ropes he began to swing you, pulling you almost off his dick before roughly swinging it back so your nose hit his happy tail.  Drool and spit bubbles from your lips as Geto roughly face fucked you.  The roped scraped and dug into you with every swing, sure to leave their mark on you.  Every time he pulled you forward, a hash slap was added to your ass.  A gagged cry would try to escape your stuffed throat but only more drool would fall.

“So good.  Fuck, you feel so good Angel.” Geto grunted.  It was only when his abs began to contract he fully pulled out.  You gasped, coughing at the sudden freedom.  

“That should be enough spit, yeah?” Geto panted, having just edged himself so he didn’t cum down your throat.  He collected the messy amount of drool on your chin with his fingers before he moved behind you.  Fingers deposited the spit onto your entrance as a form of lube.

“Such a stunning view.” Geto purred, stretching your hole with both hands to get a better view of it.  “It just calls to me, begs to be filled by my cock.” He tapped his tip to it.  Geto gave you no warning as he grabbed the rope once again to swing you into him, forcing you to take him fully in one swift motion.  Your eyes rolled back  as a cried scream left your lips.  He managed to direct his tip into your sweet spot.  Tears poured from your eyes at the stretching sensation and the pleasure you felt.  It was almost too much.  With just one thrust he already had you on the verge of cuming.  Geto wasn’t insane though, he held you in pace for a while, letting you adjust to around him.  It was only when he could feel you clenching around him, trying to pull him in impossibly deeper, that he began to swing you again.  The ropes began to dig in again, pleasure and pain mixing into one as you cried over the sensation.  Geto swung you roughly back into him each time, his tip bruising your sweet spot.  A loud, moaning scream left your lips when Geto harshly slapped your ass at the exact moment he bottomed out into you.

“A-AH Suguru!” You were a mess.  Words that were meant to be begging just came out broken and all too much.  Each swing, each slap, each thrust, each burning fiber from the rope, it was all becoming too much.

“Gunna cum for me?  Let me hear my Angel sing my name.  Come on, I wanna hear you.” Geto grunted.  He was close too but he’d be damned if he came before you did.

“Please, Suguru, god, please!” Broken screams escaped you as your orgasm washed over you.  Eyes rolling back as your entire body shook, going stiff.  

“Fuck!” Geto grunted, cumming  deep into your core, holding the rope so he was as deep in you as possible.  The second your orgasm faded your body went limp, simply too exhausted to hold itself up.  You were drooling, eyes half lidded.  You could barely focus on the fact Geto was lowering you from your place, loosening the ropes.

“You’re too perfect Angel.  My ethereal blessing.” Geto sighed, kissing along the deep rope burns that covered your body.  “Come on, let me take care of you.” He cooed, picking you up as if you were delicate and might break.  As if you hadn’t just been manhandled to oblivion.

About the Kink: Bondage and Impact Play are apart of the BDSM umbrella. Bondage is the practice of consensually tying, binding or restricting someone. Generally this is done for erotic, aesthetic, or somatosensory stimulation. A partner may be physically restrained in a variety of ways, including the use of rope, cuffs, bondage tape, or self-adhering bandage. Impact play is the is a sexual practice in which one person is struck (usually repeatedly) by another person for the gratification of either or both parties which may or may not be sexual in nature. How to Practice the Kink Safely:

With any kink it's important to have a safe word, action and sound. The action is in case it's not possible to be verbal. The sound is incase it's not possible to make words or move. Pick something easy to remember and wouldn't come up naturally. Eg. Red, 3 fast taps, 3 repeating grunts

It's important to remember that consent can be taken away at any point in time. While participating in these things safe words, actions and sounds should all be implemented. The one doing the restraining should check in with the restrained and ensure they are okay and comfortable. Remember it's only a kink if both parties are willing, eager participants. When using restraints there should be thinks like a knife, scissors, or other cutting tools nearby incase there is need to undo the binds quickly. With both Bondage and Impact Play aftercare is a must. Emotional aftercare is also highly recommended. Aftercare expectations should be discussed before beginning

[chatsurie]

No good deed goes unpunished

Ran x reader

She could see her breath in the air, drawing her coat even closer around her body as she left the hospital.

The shift had been gruelling and the knowledge of having to check her bank account sounded ghastly. The idea to buy herself groceries without checking the balance however seemed like the worst idea of all. Followed by the idea of studying Med. Residency was literally dragging her through the mud. The soles of her feet ached as she made her way down the hill. Why there wasn't any public transports at this hour anymore would be a question forever remaining unanswered. She really should have taken the bike even if the idea of driving up the hill to the hospital in the morning had sounded like a nightmare.

Yawning, the young woman started searching for her earphones that were somewhere in her bag. Fuck she just wanted to eat, take a hot shower and fall face first into her bed. Maybe she'd even be able to scrounge up enough money at the end of the month to afford a massage? Treating herself sounded like a dream.

She had just put her first earphone in as she walked by the badly lit alley. It was the sole reason why she had even heard it in the first place, rudely shoving every thought out of her head.

Halting and putting the earphones back inside their case she listened once more.

That sounded like a groan. A pained one too.

Glancing inside the alleyway she tried to make out anything inside the dark. As her eyes slowly accustomed to it she started to be able to make out a figure. It seemed like it was leaning against the left wall just out of the way of the only dimly lit street light.

Biting her lip she considered her options. She could just keep walking. She could get home, make herself the instant noodles she had decided would be enough for today and head to bed.

She wouldn't be able to sleep though, would she? There would be this nagging voice inside her head asking if they had been injured, maybe needed help?

But in today's day and age everyone had a phone. So they could probably call an ambulance themselves if it was that bad, right?

Nodding to herself she took the first step away from the sound only to stop again.

There were many reasons someone wouldn't be able to use their phone.

She'd also swear an oath to either help or do no harm. If she were to leave now she wouldn't just not help, she'd very much be not helping them. Even as a citizen she had the duty to do first aid to the best of her ability and call an ambulance if need be.

Sighing to herself she turned on her heel and walked down the street with purpose.

The uncharacteristic sound of two distinct clicks made her stop shortly. What was that? Gulping she took another smaller step until she stood under the light of the lamp. And from there she could see the predicament she had just gotten herself into.

She should have gone home.

On the wall in front of her there was a man leaning against it. Even though he was slightly crumbled into himself she could tell that he was tall. His legs were strewn in front of him dressed in an expensive looking pair of violet trousers. One of his hands was pressed into his side, the white dress shirt turning dark around his fingers.

Before she could come closer something shiny in his other hand that laid on the floor drew her attention.

That was a gun.

Fuck. That was a gun.

She had never seen a real life gun in her life before.

Her eyes shot up to look at his face for the first time.

His hair was a weird mess of lilac and black and his eyes half closed and yet sharp could probably be described as bedroom eyes. All in all he did not look like a police officer even in the slightest. She was pretty sure they weren't even allowed to have dyed hair.

He was starting at her. Had he been staring this whole time?

“What can I help you with, Doll?” His voice was rough and there was a lazy lilt in it. His hair previously probably pushed back with gel was falling into his eyes.

She had never seen this cruel looking eyes.

Should she really help him?

Fucking hell he looked like a gangster, talked like a gangster, he probably was a gangster. Before she could think herself into a frenzy she bored the nail of her middle finger harshly into the flesh of her thumb. In the end it wasn't her decision any more. She had found him and now she had to help him. End of story.

“I think the better question is how I can help you.” She finally told him putting on her brave face while slowly coming closer

She could see him draw up one perfectly plucked eyebrow as she kneeled next to him.

The young woman told him her name, easily falling back into the routine she knew thanks to her time in residency. The Autopilot was on at last as she carefully pulled his hand away “I'll try and see what I can do here. You probably should go to a doctor though.”

“What,” he asked, an amused air to his tone “you a nurse or something?”

“I'm a doctor in training. So please, let me have a look.”

She could feel his eyes looking her up and down. “Try anything and I'll kill you.” He said with a short nod to the gun in his hand before letting her proceed.

Now wasn't that just nice. Why had she given him her name again?

As she forced her tired bones to get to work she could feel his gaze on her the whole time. It was unnerving. Would he kill her if she snapped at him to look literally anywhere else?

“Ya know if all Doctors looked like this I'd probably visit the hospital more.”

She didn't react to his words. Similar things were often said and frankly she had stopped caring a long while ago. Instead she focused her attention on his side. She'd need to cut away from the shirt. And by the looks of it get the bullet out before she'd have to stop the bleeding. That would hurt.

“I can only do so much from here. I don't have anything to stitch you up, but I can get the bullet out. Do you have someone you can call to pick you up?”

“Lost my phone somewhere between getting shot and crashing here, I'm afraid.”

How could he sound this nonchalant? God what was wrong with him? That stupid lilt was starting to drive her insane and not in the good way either.

“Alright,” she sighed, “is there someone I can call then?”

At that he grinned. “Atta girl. Gimme your phone and do what you gotta, Doll.”

“Could you stop with the nicknames? I did tell you my name.” She finally grumbled as she got to work after handing him her phone. If there was one thing she couldn't stand it were nicknames given by strangers.

“Must have escaped my notice. You know, being shot and all.”

She did her best not to roll her eyes at him. Something told her that he was one of those people that didn't appreciate it.

“Rin, it's me.” She could hear him speak into her phone again after a short pause, “yeah, I ran into some trouble. Gonna need a pick up. Nah I'm good-”

No he would not. As she was fishing for the bullet she purposely bend her fingers just so, making him hiss in pain. This man needed an actual doctor, not just someone who wasn't even fully trained.

“Fucking hell,” he grit his teeth staring her down with an angry glare that nearly made her shudder as she went back to carefully getting the bullet, “I might need the doc on standby,” he grumbled through clenched teeth, making a smug grin appear on her lips.

“Nah don't think it's anything too serious, I was shot in the side. Just get over here.”

With that the girl could hear the beeping sound of the call disconnecting.

“You're a sadistic little bitch, aren't cha?”

Did this man not know manners? Thankfully for him she finally had a grip on the bullet and couldn't afford to retaliate. “If by sadistic you mean getting you the help you need, sure.” She instead told him this time with an eye roll.

His hand shot around her chin tipping her head up.

“Do you actually want the bullet out-,” she started exasperated only to stop her sentence.

The look in his eyes was shooting goosebumps up her arms. She had been right. He didn't appreciate disrespect even if it was as small as rolling your eyes at him.

“You're a pretty little thing.” He mused to himself before finally letting go of her chin. There was something about the way he had said it that made her heart rate pick up. It was the most threatening thing she had heard in her life. Fuck she should have just kept walking.

As he slowly loosened his grip around her chin she could have sworn to still feel his fingers seconds after they had left her face. His grasp had been strong. Frighteningly so.

“Back to work, Doll. I'd like this bullet out once the actual doc arrives.” The smile that was back on his lips didn't betray the cruelty that had shown through his eyes just seconds ago.

Gritting her teeth she forced her eyes away from his and back to the gaping wound. How could one man be this infuriating?

“There.” She said with finality in her voice as she showed him the bloody bullet. “I'll dress it up now, but your doc will have to do the actual work. I'll need you to sit up a bit so I can take off your jacket and shirt.”

“What,” he asked jokingly, while sitting up with her help, “not even gonna ask me out to dinner first?”

Closing her eyes for a second she breathed out through her nose. Yeah, she walked straight into that one.

As she started unbuttoning his shirt she did her best to let her eyes not wander on the tattoo on his neck. It seemed familiar and something in her gut told her she wouldn't want to know, that if she did remember it would probably be over for her. It apparently wasn't the only tattoo this man had, she realized the more she could see of his chest.

It was a pretty ches- NO. That was weird, she was not going there.

Finally finished with the buttons she ripped her eyes away from him busying herself to find something inside her back she could use as dressing. Maybe if she cut up her work clothes? That could work.

And during the whole process she could feel his eyes on her. Fuck, she'd kill him herself if they ended up haunting her in her sleep.

“How many years of training do you still have left?” He suddenly asked when she was back to leaning above him.

How was this man still talking? She should have duct taped his mouth.

“About six months, then I'm taking my finals,” she told him absent-mindedly finally tying the rest of what was once her uniform around his lower abdomen. And pulling his shirt up his shoulders once more.

“There you go. Will you be fine on your own until your friends are coming?”

The man leaned back. “What, not helping me get to the car?”

Finally out of his reach she rolled her eyes at him, feeling the slightest bit defiant. “Don't push it,” she told him clearly, gathering up the rest of her things.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” He asked mockingly after she had already turned away from him.

Frowning she turned back around and sighed at the sight of him waving her phone around.

Just as she leaned down to him to take her phone, the hand currently not holding it snaked around her wrist lightning fast pulling her even further down until she was back to kneeling next to him.

“You're a feisty little thing. You really should be careful. It might get you into trouble with people that are less forgiving than me.”

Something told her that forgiveness wasn't something he was good at.

With that he finally let go of her and her phone. She scrambled to get away from him.

“Well, I'll see you around, Doll.”

His words send a shiver down her spine. No he would not see her around. Frankly this man scared her. Shit why had she told him her name?

His chuckle at her hurried exit would probably follow her into her nightmares tonight.

The young woman had done her best to forget about the man's existence once she had closed the door to her room and had fallen into bed.

The epiphany about why the tattoo on his neck had seemed familiar came to her one morning before she would have to head to work. She was munching on a piece of bread with strawberry jam, reading the news when she stumbled across the article.

Organised crime.

A syndicate named Bonten.

And the executives all seemed to have the same damn tattoo.

The tattoo that that Man had worn proudly on his neck.

Fucking hell. She had helped a Gangster.

The jam turned to ash in her mouth, the bread suddenly too dry as she reached for her glass of water. The vitamin D tablet she usually took with it long forgotten as she gulped it down.

What would happen now? Would he come back? Surely not if she simply remained quiet. No police, no frantic actions, no nothing. She'd just have to go about her days in peace and forget, correct?

Sadly, the man seemingly didn't want to be forgotten.

It took a week for them to meet again. It had been after a grocery haul after her morning shift, since her fridge was once again close to empty and going out to dinner wasn't an option. She had planned to pour over her textbooks while eating after all.

As she walked down the hall to her apartment, she realised that her front door was open. It made her seize up before arguing with herself that she had been so tired in the morning she had probably just forgotten about closing it correctly – it wouldn't be the first time after all – and if a poor sod actually had broken in, then maybe he could help her find something valuable. So, chuckling at herself she simply thanked God for being able to kick her door open further without having to set down her grocery bags and get her keys out.

The woman only stopped in shock, after looking inside the kitchen and finding a suited man stuck with his head in her fridge rummaging around in it. Before she could decide what her next step would be, probably throwing the groceries into his face and making a run for it, the man turned around and she could see who it was.

The man from the alley. This time no injury, just a grating smile on his far too attractive face.

He had found her.

He had made an effort to search for her.

If that wasn't unsettling, she didn't know what was.

“You brought food,” He called out as if had been waiting for her, “I was getting kinda worried looking at your fridge, you really shouldn't make financial cuts when it comes to food. You already look like I could break your neck with one hand.”

Staring at him she wasn't quite sure how to react. Surely to throw the frozen fish at him would buy her some time, right?

“No need to get defensive,” the man spoke again, while leaning against her small kitchen isle, a cup next to him that she was sure she hadn't used the past days.

“I've come to give you my thanks, doll. You see apparently I was in a tight spot and you really helped me out.”

One brow drawn up she slowly nodded at him, her face slowly loosing all it's previous colour from the walk up to her apartment. “Yeah sure,” she started haltingly, “no problem. Get out now, please? I have a lot to do.”

The man sighed. “I was never received this coldly by someone I didn't hurt. Makes a guy feel a bit special ya know? The name's Ran. Pleasure to meet you properly, doll.”

He was one of those then. One of those overly friendly men you should steer clear off. How would she get him out of her apartment?

“As I've said before,” she started again this time through gritted teeth trying to the best of her abilities to remain civil and not like the deer in headlights she felt like, “it wasn't a problem. Now if you could,” her head moved, signalling to the front door, “please?”

Ran sighed, before she watched his hand go into the pockets of his pants. He looked out of place in his expensive wear and something about it made the young woman feel self-conscious.

She watched, as the man – Ran, pulled out his wallet and started counting out a few notes.

“This should be alright for compensation and keeping as quiet as you have the past weeks, yes?” There was something in his eyes as he put the money on the table. A glimmer. He seemed to find sadistic joy in her worried state.

Gulping down the lump in her throat she didn't take her eyes off him as she nodded.

“My god, you're absolutely adorable. Maybe I should keep you. Call me if you're interested in a date.” With that he left the house, leaving her breathless after he had walked by her far too close making her aware of every muscle moving and letting her catch a whiff of his perfume. Surely something disgustingly expensive too.

Her body was shaking by the time she heard the door close behind him and she finally allowed herself to move into the kitchen and put the groceries on the isle.

Next to the money.

Well, hush money.

Holy shit, that was hush money.

Fuck, what had she gotten into?

How could a man look so much like a panther waiting to pounce on its prey.

She nearly overlooked the piece of paper with a number written on it – his handwriting was apparently appalling, as she went to throw the money away not even bothering to look at how much it was.

If she would have had any inclination to meet him again she probably would have kept it to throw back into his face – though that might be seen as an offence so that probably wouldn't be the wisest thing to do - but since that wasn't the plan the bin it was.

Right along with his number.

If she had to see that disgusting smile again in her death it would still be too early.

That night she put her textbooks onto the coffee table in her living room instead of the kitchen table since she had caught herself throwing glances at the bin, as if that would make him appear out of thin air again. It had reached a point where she had actually brought the paper bin outside only to feel guilty right before throwing the money away.

Someone could probably use that, right? That was the money's chance to finally do something not bloody. Maybe she'd just give it to the next homeless person she saw? Maybe a shelter? Throwing it away out of spite though felt wrong. And so, the only thing actually landing in the trash was his number – good riddance to that – the money on the other hand was now sitting once more on the fucking counter making it impossible to concentrate which is why she then moved her study sesh one room over. The coffee table was too low. Her back would ache in the morning but everything was better than constantly throwing glances that way.

That night, as she laid in bed the clock nearing one am, then two, she realized that she'd need a new lock. She didn't feel safe anymore. There was something particularly intrusive about knowing he had stood inside her kitchen, searched through her fridge and drunken her coffee.

That night she had dreamed of running through the darkness, while a far too familiar grin stalked after her. She woke up just as long lithe fingers found their way around her neck burning her skin.

Abandoning every thought about him, had worked for about two more weeks – work and Uni doing everything they could to remind her of her very real responsibilities, until she had come home from dinner with a friend the Monday after it had been the clean the flat weekend.

It was an important detail because after having pulled of her heels from blistered feet she had walked into her living room intending to fold the laundry that was still left over while watching a show and letting the day finish with a glass of cheap wine – she had recently started to drink a bit more wine at night, it kept the nightmares at bay, but that was a problem for after exams – it was an important detail because on her freshly cleaned couch there was a dead guy who was ruining it with his blood.

There was a dead guy in her fucking apartment.

Bleeding onto her clean carpet.

Pinching herself she tried to make sense of the scene.

“And here I'd thought you'd come home too late. Put this man back together will you?” Her head shot up at the sadly recognisable voice.

That had to be a joke, right? It could not be that asshole sitting on her living room chair having the gall to look like he belonged there.

“What are you doing here?” She hissed between her teeth.

One of his infuriatingly perfect brows rose a bit as he looked at her. She swore his eyes were telling her that she was stupid.

“Guy on your couch. Fix him up for me, sweetheart.” He repeated himself once more.

Rubbing her temple with her index finger she looked at the man on her couch.

“As much blood as he is leaving on my leather couch, might I add, I doubt he is still alive. And don't you have a fucking doctor for that? How dare you just come to me with this shit. I want nothing to do with you!”

Ran chuckled. “See and that's why I like you. So much bite. As your luck has it, that is our doc. Or better yet it was. You see he did some stupid things and now one of my colleagues had to squeeze him just a little bit for answers. So, fix. Him. Up.” The last part of his sentence came out in a bite.

What the fuck was wrong with this man?!

Cautiously the doctor still in training made her way over to the body. How was she supposed to fix that? Why was she even fucking fixing it. That man was not her fucking problem!

“You do know I'm not a hospital or an actual doctor yet, right?” Maybe reminding him would help? Fuck, why was she not less competent? She should have let him out to bleed to death that night

Ran simply shrugged, “Call it hands on practice then.”

Sighing she got to looking at the man bleeding out in front of her. Sure. Hands on Practice. Because that was just absolutely fucking normal. It was absolutely normal to have a man bleeding out on her own couch. And it was absolutely normal to call that hands on practice.

As she got to work, she realized with shame that her hands were shaking the same way they did back that night in that alley.

Oh she should have just kept going. She should have ignored ever hearing his damn pained voice.

Instead of doing all the sensible things though she made stock of the damage and made a list inside her head what she had to do.

“You know,” Ran interrupted the silence, “ you really gotta learn how to feed yourself. I'm pretty sure you've gotten thinner in the time I last saw you which is an absolute shame might I add? What have you used the money on I gave you?”

What was his obsession with her eating habits?!

“I'm concentrating here!” She snapped at him, damn all the consequences, right? After all he did want something from her.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the lazy grin stretching out his mouth further as his hands went up in mock surrender.

“Of course, Princess. I forgot you're very much still in training. Take your time. Maybe not too much though. Don't think you're able to explain a dead person in your living room to the police, right?”

With that she could see him leaving the room only to hear him rummaging around in another room.

What the fuck was wrong with him.

Fucking hell. First thing she'd do once he left was find another flat. Maybe change her name too.

Two hours later she collapsed next to the couch. She had done everything she could. The worst should be over. Looking down she realized that there was blood on her blouse.

Her favourite blouse.

It was a beige blouse.

There was blood on the leather of the couch. And some on the carpet. It was a green one.

And now there was blood on it.

And on her blouse.

It had been a present from a friend.

And now there were ugly red splotches on it.

For some reason that was what made her cry.

It was three in the morning just the weekend after she had cleaned and mopped her whole flat, washed down the windows had gotten the flowers rearranged and now there was blood on her and on the carpet and on her leather couch.

Everything was ruined.

And there was exactly one person to blame for this situation.

Before she could start to think, because she evidently wasn't, she had jumped up from her position on the floor and stormed into the kitchen where Ran was leaning against the counter.

“”How dare you!” She screamed, with a finger raised at him. “Who do you think you are? You can't just, just storm into my life, break into my flat, deposit a man on my fucking couch and then then,” she stopped for a short second only now realizing that he was again holding a cup in his hand, partially raised to his lips as he looked down on her with this, this, this disgusting self satisfied smirk on his lips. “ You are drinking my coffee?” She asked, voice low, “you are fucking drinking my coffee?! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

She had evidently lost all her brain cells as she reached out to grab it from him only for her hand to be intercepted by his, the satisfaction that was once on his face had vanished and in it's place there was Nothing.

His face was void of any and every kind of emotion. She didn't know what he was thinking. It was such a stark contrast that she didn't even try to get her wrist out of his hand.

He held eye contact when he took a sip from the coffee and he held eye contact when he put the cup down.

Only then, did he begin to speak once more.

“Now then. I know you're young. What 25, 26? Something like that. So I will disregard the blatant disrespect just now, if you apologize. Have I made myself clear?”

Gulping she tried taking a step backwards only to be roughly pulled back by her wrist still encircled in those awful fingers.

He clicked his tongue at her before whirling her around and slamming her against the counter. That would surely leave a bruise.

“Now,” he started again, the free hand finding the buttons to turn on the stove, “I had an extremely long day and I know you did too, so I'll be gracious and give you one last chance. Apologize for your behaviour or well.” She followed his eyes as they flickered to the slowly heating up stove.

What was he?

There was a second where his eyes flickered between the stove and her hand still pinned by his and back at the stove.

He wouldn't, right? Surely, he - “Don't try my patience.” He answered her unspoken question as if he had read her mind.

Gulping she slowly nodded.

“I'm, “she started swallowing the lump in her throat. She just had to apologize. She just had to get rid of her pride for one second and she'd be fine.

“I'm sorry.”

By the way he stared at her it was obviously not enough.

God that fucking asshole.

That fucking disgusting -

“I'm sorry for exploding like that. You're right. I'm tired it was a long day and fixing up the man must have made me emotional. I'm sorry.”

The pressure on her wrist was slowly letting up but he still hadn't let go and he was still looking at her expectantly. What did he want to hear? She had said she was sorry, she had sounded positively pathetic doing it as well.

“Sir,” he provided with that self satisfied look.

Sir? What was that supposed to-

He was kidding right?

He had to be kidding.

One look at his face made her grit her teeth. The man was actually serious. That bastard son of a bitch actually wanted her to -

The movement of her wrist slowly being turned towards the stove had her stop in her track.

She could curse him later.

“I'm sorry, Sir.” She said through gritted teeth.

Evidently it was enough, since he finally let go of her wrist. His hand instead ending up on her head in a patronizing head pat.

“See, isn't it easy to just do as your told? You know, I really don't like hurting pretty things. But I will if I have to. Remember that the next time you try disrespecting me. Alright?”

With that he turned around and left the kitchen, leaving her pressed against the kitchen counter her left hand coming too close to that fucking stove and nearly burning herself if she hadn't realised the heat coming too close.

With shivering hands she turned the stove off.

There was something seriously wrong with this man. She'd call the police and report him the minute he had left the flat. She should have done it after he had broken in the first time. Fuck the consequences. She'd have to leave the country anyways. Might as well leave a nice present for him to clean up after. It might even buy her some more time.

Trying to breath calmly she grabbed onto the counter harshly her fingers turning white with the effort of keeping herself upright. She'd collapse once there wasn't a fucking psychopath inside her flat anymore.

“You'll do well, stubborn little thing.” Ran commented as he strolled back into the kitchen the sound of additional footsteps only reaching her brain vaguely. .

No she would definitely not. She would in fact do so bad that it was the worse he had ever seen. And she didn't even know what he was talking about.

As he came closer and reached out to her she flinched back harshly only to then realise that he had once again grabbed the coffee cup.

It made him smile.

Her fear made the bastard smile.

God she wanted to kick him in his balls. She wanted to take a knife out of the stupid knife block and drive it through his stupid knee.

She watched numbly as another man dressed in a suit walked through the hallway this time with the doctor she had just patched up.

Would they torture him again? This time to kill him off for real?

“Alright,” the bastard started as he leant back against the table as the front door closed once more. She wouldn't call him anything else now, she had decided. The name fit him too well, “ you did a good job with the doc, pretty. So I'll tell you what is going to happen. Tomorrow you'll take your pretty little butt into the hospital and hand in your resignation. You'll come home after that and someone will be here to take you with them. You won't make any kinda noise about it. You'll be a good little doc and then you'll start working for us. Understood?”

God this man had lost it completely. Fuck no.

Looking at the wall behind him she nodded, not wanting to look into his eyes. He smiled at her and pat her cheek once more.

“That's what I like to hear. Well little dove, it was a pleasure doing business with you. I'll see you in the evening.”

She watched him leave. Through the front door. Like he was just a normal man.

Just as the front door closed one final time she collapsed onto the floor.

Her brain both racing and not comprehending anything at all she only knew one thing for sure.

She had to leave. She had to leave the country and never come back.

Fuck.

As the young woman was scrambling about in her flat, throwing clothes into a suitcase, she never realised that outside, Ran stood. A cigarette in his hand, head tilted up as he watched her flat light.

He was waiting. Fuck he hoped she would panic. Chasing her through a few streets would be so much fun. Maybe Sanzu actually had had a point there.