#like a wild cornered animal he's going all fuckin out fuck you

[citrine-elephant]

post re4 leon probably has the urge to actually bite people and has to heavily rein that in

[tightjeansjavi]

Jail Bird | Joel Miller x smuggler/raider f! reader | part 2

“All I’ve Ever Known Is You”

A/N: and so we have reached the conclusion of this tragic story of unrequited love. I warned y’all earlier that this would be a doozy. Tread carefully.

~word count: 2.4k~

Summary: Joel Miller refuses to let you go, and it proves to be a costly choice.

Warnings: major character death, depictions of violence, fatal gunshot, angst, grief, regret, emotional manipulation, mentions of blood, stalking, refusal to let a person go, anger, stubbornness, obsession, unrequited love, pining, possessive behavior, actions have consequences, lots of imagery used, dark themes, Joel is an emotional mess, protective! Joel, darkish! Joel, grieving! Joel, sprinkle of PTSD from the night Sarah died, this content may be disturbing for some viewers. Please read the warnings carefully, and do not proceed if this sort of content upsets you. +18 minors dni!

Cornered: (of a person or animal) forced into a place or situation from which it is hard to escape.

"nothing is more dangerous than a cornered wild beast"

Joel had no recollection of how many hours had passed since you locked him away in this cell. He should have known better than to trust you. He beat himself up over the fact that he let his guard down that easily. What the fuck was he thinking? You kissed him and suddenly nothing else mattered. He should have sensed you were going to trick him. Maybe if his mind wasn’t so clouded, he would have stopped you when he still had the chance.

“What do you mean you don’t know where your brother is, Tommy?” Ellie was walking alongside her uncle from the mess-hall, wrapping her arms tightly around herself to lock out the chill.

“I haven’t seen him in hours El. He’s been actin’ fuckin’ strange these past few days, ever since we brought that woman in from the woods. For all we know, he skipped town or somethin.’”

“My dad wouldn’t just leave without telling one of us. That’s bullshit. Where’s the jail located? Wasn’t he interrogating her or something?” Ellie quickened her pace to keep up with her uncle.

“Yeah, you’re right, kid. He wouldn't skip town like that. That’s unlike my brother, especially now. We’ll go and check the jail and see if he’s there.”

Joel pulled himself up to his feet with a heavy grunt when he heard the main door open with a loud creak. For a split second he thought maybe it was you returning to him, but that sliver of hope was quickly vanquished when Tommy and Ellie came into his peripheral.

“Joel?! What in the hell are you fuckin’ doin’ in there?!” Tommy was already pulling out his spare keys from his pocket and quickly unlocked the cell door. “What the hell happened?!”

Joel looked up with a defeated expression on his face. His eyes were rimmed red with glassy tears pooling in his irises. Ellie was at his side with her arms wrapping around him, hugging him tightly to her. “Dad, what happened?”

Joel leaned into the comforting touch that his daughter unconditionally provided for him. A heavy sigh passed through his cracked lips as his gaze fell upon his younger brother. “She tricked me.” Was all he could utter.

“Tricked you how?” Tommy scrubbed his hand across his face, shaking his head to himself. “She over power you or somethin?’”

“She kissed me, alright? She fuckin’ kissed me..and I fell right into her goddamn trap.” Joel’s tone was bitter, laced with frustration as Ellie helped him to his feet.

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me right now Joel? How long ago was this?”

“A few hours ago? I don’t know. She just fuckin’ locked me in here and ran. I told you when we brought her in that we have..history. I know I shouldn’t have let my guard down like that but—”

“Yeah you told me that she left you back in the QZ, and you spent all your time fuckin’ lookin’ for her. Maria said one of the horses was stolen right before dinner, so it’s gotta be your jailbird, brother.”

“Will you help me go out there and find her, Tommy? Please? I think she was just scared that somethin’ was gonna happen to her here, and that’s why she ran. If we leave her out there, she’s gonna die. I don’t want that on my conscience.” His arm was lightly draped around Ellie’s shoulders.

“Are you fuckin’—fine. I’ll grab a couple of the guys and we’ll go and look for her. She must mean a lot to ya if you’re willin’ to take these lengths. What’re you gonna do if we find her, and she doesn’t want to come back?” The three of them left the jail cell and treaded back out into the bitter cold.

“I’ll jus’ hav’to find a way to convince her to come back.” Joel stated what he believed to be the obvious. It wasn’t a matter of if he would find you. He would find you, and he’d do whatever it would take to convince you to come home with him.

The horses were saddled up with four men, including Joel and Tommy at the front. Maria told her husband that going after this jailbird was beyond stupid, and he agreed. He just had a rather difficult time telling his brother no after all the years they spent apart. Ellie didn’t like the idea either, but Joel always came back home to her. He always promised to return so this time would be no different as he kissed the top of her head, and smoothed down her hair gently. “Don’t worry about me kiddo. I promise I’ll be home as soon as we find her.”

“I know, Dad. Just be careful, okay?” She hugged him tightly.

“Always am.” Joel promised her.

The further away you were from Joel, and Jackson, the more at peace you began to feel. You didn’t believe that escaping jail would be that easy, but as soon as Joel fell into your perfectly calculated trap, you knew it was your ticket out and that you couldn’t waste another second. You had no idea where you were going to go now, and with darkness falling quickly, it would take a miracle for you to survive the cold cold night that lay ahead.

You had endured worse conditions before, and the chill didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. You listened to the comforting crunch of snow beneath your horses hooves as your heart thrummed gently in your chest. Joel would have to be a fool to come after you now..or so you thought. Your moment of calm was fiercely destroyed when you heard the thundering of hooves approaching in the distance.

Joel fucking Miller just wouldn’t give up.

You heard him call out your name as a desperate plea through the once still snowy forest. It echoed through the surrounding evergreens, ricocheted off your thundering heart like a pinball machine. You eased your horse into a canter, desperate to escape Joel’s nearing approach.

Please! Please stop runnin’ from me darlin’! I don’t want to chase you, but you're leaving me no other choice!

He was closer now, far too close for comfort.

Your hopes for escape were cut short when your exit route was impassable due to the rushing river that stretched for miles on end. You eased your horse to a halt, frantically looking around as if you were a scared doe being narrowed on by a pack of wolves. The wind howled as you were reaching for your gun just as Joel, Tommy and two other men emerged on horseback through the snowy evergreens.

“Stay back! Stay back or I will fuckin’ shoot!” Your voice trembled like a branch being jostled through a harsh wind. Your finger held steady over the trigger despite your nerves and the frantic look in your eyes.

Joel cautiously dismounted from his horse with his hands above his head to show you that he didn’t come to harm you. He just came to ‘rescue’ you and bring you back home where you belonged. “Easy. Easy. I’m not gonna harm ya darlin.’ Please put the gun down, and then let’s talk. Okay?” His tone was soft, reassuring but it caused bile to rise deep from the pits of your stomach. You didn’t want to go home with him. You wanted to never see Joel Miller ever again.

“Like hell I’m going to put my gun down!” Your horse took a nervous sidestep to the left, nearly slipping into the icy depths below. “You need to fuckin’ let me go, Joel! I don’t want you!” You kept one hand on the trigger as you carefully dismounted from your horse.

“You know I can’t do that darlin.’ You know I can’t. Please just come home with me. We can put this all aside! C’mon. You’ll freeze to death out here.” He pleaded with you with an outstretched hand in your direction.

“I’d rather fucking freeze to death out here than go anywhere with you. Take five steps back right fucking now, or I shoot. Why can’t you just let me go? Why can’t you just fucking move on! I don’t love you, Joel. I never have, and I never will. What we had years ago was good, it was fun, but you’re chasing a fucking ghost. What you want from me is something I am not capable of giving you. You need to move on.” Now you were the one pleading with him. You didn’t want to have to shoot but if it meant that Joel Miller would never be in your life again…

“You don’t love me, sweet girl? That’s bullshit and you know it. All that time we spent together? It meant fuck all to you? I don’t believe it! You’re a terrible fuckin’ liar, and you’re making this way harder than it needs to be! Please, stop fighting me. You’re breakin’ my fuckin’ heart, baby.” He didn’t listen to your demand for him to take five steps back and instead took two cautious steps forward.

“I am NOT your sweet girl! I never was Joel! Stop trying to convince yourself that I have ever cared for you below a surface level! The only liar here is yourself. Now, you can turn around and go home and forget all about me. It’s for your own fucking good. You think that one day I’ll wake up and suddenly develop feelings for you? That’s not how the world works! That’s never how it worked, and you just have to accept that!” You kept the barrel of your gun trained on him as he stepped closer to you.

“Joel, maybe we should just—” Tommy tried to reason with his brother.

“No, Tommy! She’s comin’ home with me one way or a fuckin’ other.” He didn’t even look back at his brother as he took another step forward. His eyes were desperately pleading with you to give in and you truly were beginning to feel like a cornered doe with a pack of vicious wolves caving in.

Closer. Closer. Closer.

You saw Joel reach out to grasp your arm and the second he did, you went to shove him away. Screaming profanities at him with tears stinging your eyes. Your screams died in your raw throat when a gunshot shot rang through the air. It was not your own gun. It all happened so fast as the bullet tore through the flesh of your heart, where Joel had once built a home there. The windows shattered, the wood splintered, and the bed exploded into a cloud of down feathers. The house he forged with his bare hands laid in a pile of ash as you sank to your knees. Dark crimson blood pooled through the layers of clothing on your body as you struggled to take your final breaths.

Everything around you began to grow fuzzy as your lashes fluttered. The sensation of blood draining from your body like the rushing stream was eerily calming. You had never been afraid to die. Not when the world had gone to shit, and everyday could be the day that you would depart the living realm. The once white snow was stained scarlet as you slumped into Joel’s arms with one final breath.

Joel felt his own life flash before his eyes as the bullet tore through your flesh. It all happened so fast and there was nothing he could do to stop it as you slumped into him. He desperately pressed down on the wound as more blood filtered through your body. His hands were stained in it along with his clothes. There was so much blood and so little time. “No no no. Fuck! No. You are not dyin’ on me like this!” He relived images of Sarah dying in his arms flash through his brain as he let out a bone chilling sob.

“Tommy! Help me! Fuckin’ help me!” He finally looked over his shoulder at his brother who could only stare back from where he sat on his horse.

“SOMEBODY FUCKIN’ HELP ME!” He screamed as he clutched your body against his chest, rocking your slumped form as he cried into your cold shoulder.

No one moved a muscle. No one said a word as Joel held you for one last time.

Your body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as Joel struggled to lift you into his arms. Your eyes forever unmoving, staring up at him with a ghostly film falling upon your once vibrant irises. Your body grew cold. Colder than the temperatures outside and the skin around your lips was fading blue. Your time living on earth's hell hole was over.

“Who fuckin’ shot her.” Joel’s tone was deep and threatening as he trudged through the snow with your deceased form limp in his arms. “WHO FUCKIN’ SHOT HER?!?!” His voice cracked as fresh tears began to fall and land along your icy skin.

“ILL FUCKIN’ KILL—”

Tommy was already hopping down from his horse to attempt to console his wrecked brother.

The man who shot you was known to be trigger happy. He only acted on impulse when you had moved to shove Joel away. He was already riding far far away from the scene when he realized what he had just done.

“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME TOMMY!” Joel used the strength he had left to shove his brother away from him.

Tommy’s own heart broke when he witnessed Joel struggle to secure your deceased body onto your horse. All the younger Miller Brother could do was watch, and the image that laid before him would never leave his mind.

The only two people to attend your funeral were Joel and Ellie. He dug your grave in the town's cemetery. It took hours due to the ground being so hard and frozen. Ellie was there for emotional support. She might have never met you, but you meant something to her dad, and she wanted to be there for him in those final moments.

He laid your wrapped body into the cold dark earth below. His body had spent all of his tears, but that didn’t stop the physical dry sobs to part from his soul. He pressed a kiss to your covered head, whispering that he would once see you again. Your headstone was hand carved in stone by him, and when it was all said and done, Joel and Ellie stood above your grave, arms wrapped loosely around one another as her head gently rested along his shoulder.

“Who..was she to you, dad?” Ellie softly asked.

Joel slowly looks over at his daughter, his lips curving up into a gentle smile. He inhales, exhales with a puff of cold air departing his lips, “just someone I used to know, a long time ago, kiddo.”

Joel Miller had finally let you go.

Tagging people I think will enjoy! @chaotic-mystery @cavillscurls @morning-star-joy @sinsofsummers @cupofjoel @thetriumphantpanda @dinsdjrn @darkroastjoel @korynnekorynne @kirsteng42

[ariadosanon]

[TW: FAMILIAL INFIGHTING, MENTIONS OF POKÉMON DEATH.]

[A video is attached. The image of a vaguely nervous Rotom sits in the corner of the recording, a frown on his face. Nictoria is being recorded again, and the content seems... deeply personal.]

The video opened on Nictoria in her living room. The young woman was sitting on her couch, facing a holographic screen projection from her P ★ DA. Her expression was hard to read, as she kept lowering her head to her knees. A man with similar facial features, and white hair is looking back at her. From the image of him, it was clear he was wearing a Pokémon Ranger uniform, minus the usual hat. He looked disappointed, or maybe even a bit angry with Nictoria. Before the viewer could assume anything else about the situation, Nic spoke up. 

“Wes, I swear on my time that I am doing my fucking best.” She said, visibly clenching her jaw. 

“I know this can’t be your best.” Wes replied instantly. “Because I’ve seen your best, and killing at least two Pokémon in one night isn’t that.” 

“They attacked me, first.” She finally snarled out, a clear excuse. She looked away from the screen, unable to make digital eye contact with the man. She ran her clawed hands down her face.

“Those Pokémon were not guilty of their trainers' sins. They didn’t deserve to die— and especially not in the way you murdered them.”

“I have a right to fuckin’ defend myself!”

Wes shook his head vigorously, crossing his arms and glaring at Nictoria. A scarred, yet regal Umbreon hopped onto his shoulder, staring into the camera with its trainer's same intensity.

“Just because they worked for Rocket doesn’t mean you can maim them and then kill their Pokémon.” He said sternly. He paused, hesitating before his next words. “Listen. I could tell that, despite everything, you showed restraint during that battle,” Wes said, his tone softer. “But what’s less for you is still too much for everyone else, Little Shadow.” He grimaced. “You still need to change.”

Nictoria immediately stood up at that comment, startling the Spinarak on the couch with her. She bared her teeth like a wild animal as she shouted at the man on the screen. 

“I’ve been fucking changing! I haven’t stolen or bought a stolen Pokémon in a whole YEAR! I’ve only got ONE Shadow Pokémon in my possession that isn’t a NAT— I even started keeping my useless feeder Pokémon in better living conditions! They have fresh fucking leaves, Wes! FRESH FUCKING LEAVES!” She screamed, clapping her hands between words for emphasis. “What more do you fucking WANT from me!” 

Wes didn’t react to the violent outburst, seemingly used to it from her. Umbreon, however, bristled, snarling at Nictoria from his trainer’s shoulder. 

“It’s not about what I want from you.” He said, still calm. “I’m your brother, not your Interpol agent. I’m just worried that you’re relapsing.” 

“Well I’m not,” She snapped. “And you can tell that brat, Chrono. I’m fine.” She insisted. “All these stupid motherf—”

“Victoria, listen to me.” He interrupted, quieting his sister down. 

“Interpol may be letting this incident go, but I can’t. I’m not going to let Tegan play games with you, or video call you on the weekends anymore.” Nictoria’s face fell, her anger immediately evaporating into pure panic. “You— Why the Cel not!?”

Wes dragged his hand down his face again, looking away from the screen and his sister. This part seemed to be genuinely distressing for him. Umbreon rubbed his head against his trainer’s cheek, nudging him on.

“Rui and I got called into a parent teacher conference. He’s been mimicking your speech patterns— He’s been saying things to the other kids— and he’s been hitting the other kids.” 

“Well- the hitting isn’t so great,” she chuckled nervously, sitting back down. Nictoria began hitting her hand against her thigh rhythmically, perhaps an attempt to calm down

“But sure he can mimic me, that's fine— I’m his aunt— what’s wrong with a kid looking up to his aunt?” She desperately pleaded, “Maybe he’s just having a bit of a rough phase— You know I never talk about— My past around him!”

“Vicky— I don’t think either of us are buying that Neo-Snagem or your ‘streams’ are fully in your past,” Wes said sincerely. “Today he’s telling other kids their partner Pokémon are ‘dumb’ and pushing them over, tomorrow, then what? He joins up with Rocket? He starts a Team like you or Da did?”

“There’s a big fucking difference between the two!” She shouted in disbelief, spreading her arms out. “I’m doing better, Wesley, I’m doing my best—!“

“I can’t believe you yet.” He said honestly. Umbreon nodded in agreement with its trainer, staring down Nictoria like a hawk. 

“Maybe in another year or so we can revisit the idea.”

“A year!?”

“A year.” He said sternly, holding up his hand. “And that’s the best offer you’ll be getting. Rui didn’t want you to see him again at all.”

She swallowed hard, but nodded to the projection of her brother. 

“Okay.” Was all she said. 

“… I love you, Vicky.” He replied, “I know you can get better. I’ll call you again next week? Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay. I love you…”

“Okay.” She grunted back, before adding a hesitant: “Love you.” 

As soon as Wes hung up the phone, Victoria slowly stood from her spot on the couch. She took a deep breath… 

And smashed the coffee table with her bare hands, screaming at the top of her lungs. 

[The video is abruptly cut off here.]

[themarvelliteraryuniverse]

"You may act like you've changed, but deep down, you're still a demon." [Hurt me, Locke.]

Six months ago, Victor would have checked his phone and marked the weeks, days, and minutes it took for someone to realize that. Victor was so many layers of fucked up, it was hard to figure out who he was. Where did the layers of surivival instincts, of self preservation, of distance stop? Where did he start?

For a long while, Victor didn't think he even did. His experiences, terrible as they all fucking were, made him. He was all instinct. All animal. Survive, fuck, kill. The basics. Ever since Logan, since James, he operated on that mindset. Sure, sometimes he'd pull himself together to run some mob operations, arm deals, slaughters. But deep down, he was just that addict bastard waiting for his next hit of blood soaked hands.

His appearance changed. He did not.

Not until Hank.

Hank was a beast- The Beast. It was in his fucking name, he should be as animal as Victor- more really. He even looked the fucking part. And he could fight, he could tear things apart with his hands, his claws, his teeth. He didn't though. Victor never understood why he didn't. His experiences were pretty bad, too. From what little Vic knew.

Instead, he helped. He was fucking kind. Sp fucking kind, he even gave Vic a chance. Didn't have to, God knew everyone told him not to. But he did.

And at first, Victor did what he always did. He kept doing his odd jobs that ended up with someone's viscera in his hair. He and Hank had a weird friends with benefits thing going, that was nothing new. Then one day it was. Then Vic found himself stressing over fucking dinner. Stressing over making it right because he wanted Hank to like it.

That was an entirely foreign fucking thing. Worrying about what someone else liked. Someone else thought. And Hank punched him for it. From then on, Victor knew he was head over heels and knew he should have turned tail and fuckin' run then. But he didn't. He followed Hank.

The worst part was Victor tried. He tried so fucking hard. He went to the mansion, he played nice, he didn't kill except when Hank's life was at risk. He couldn't lose this one thing that made him live. Not just survive. Live.

But he did, anyway. Which shouldn't be a surprise. Hell, if not even Logan can fucking deal with him, how was he going to expect someone a hundred times better than Logan to deal with him? Victor had played a losing game from the start; he knew this. Yet here he was.

Victor gives Hank nothing for a minute. A blank stare as he processes the words. Then his nose twitches, lip pulled up in and almost snarl before he smiles instead. "Aw, what's the matter, Doc? Your little science experiment didn't turn out the way you hoped? Can't domesticate a wild animal, y'know. Thought you were smarter than that."

He circles around him, the distance between him and Hank growing with each step. "It's gotta hurt, huh? Thinkin' you're this great fucking genius, thinkin' you might actually do the impossible, here. But no. No, I'm still a fuckin' jackass that really likes disembowlin' anyone that looks at me funny."

His path stops in front of the door. Cornering Hank in the room. The smile fades, eyes rimmed gold as he glares.

"I'm the demon that's gonna drag you to Hell, Hank. Remember that."

Then he turns, disappearing through the door with silent thunder. No slamming, no claw marks. Just eerie, stalking silence.

[amywritesthings]

Hello Hello Hello-ween! 👻

This is Episode 1 (...dunno whether there will be more...) of

Oddly Specific Asks🗿✨️

where you will get oddly specific questions and choices that will tingle your pringle. Let's go!

1) Favorite line in Avatar: The Last Airbender?

2) Best Justin Bieber Song?

3) QUICK ROUND! Pumpkin Spice or Matcha Latte?

4) Favorite way to cut a sandwich?

5) Most annoying Anime character?

6) QUICK ROUND! Mint chocolate on pizza or cheesy pineapple on ice cream?

7) Rate yourself: How well would you perform with ODM gear? On a scale from Sasha's potato to Levi VS Beast Titan.

8) In a fight between a peanut, a pistachio and a macadamia nut - who would win and why?

9) QUICK ROUND! Never read FanFic again or never write FanFic again?

10) GET CREATIVE! Write a short dialogue between any AoT character and a mindless titan about the lastest hairstyles in Mitras. Add details of the titan's reaction as well as at least two rhymes.

Thanks for playing! If you enjoyed this stupid game my silly little brain has come up with, let me know in your answer and I will give you another round. I hope this made you smile at least a little!

Best,

a very weird German <3

hallo-sleepover '24! / accepting.

When I tell you that I just finished eaten a chicken pesto sandwich and opened my inbox and went my god. I am so game.

1) Technically, I have two because I'm a LoK truther as much as ATLA. Unironically, they're both Uncle Iroh. "Perfection and power are overrated. I think you are very wise to choose happiness and love instead." (ATLA) + "If you look for the light, you will often find it; but if you look for the dark, that is all you will ever see." (LOK)

2) I don't know many Justin Beiber songs, but one of my cardio classes once used "Friends" and it's such a good song.

3) Pumpkin Spice, I'll never choose anything different.

4) In half because I am lazy.

5) Bestie you're going to get me in trouble 😭 my heart says Eren from AOT (I'm sorry please don't add me to the weird yeagerist hit list) but I feel like the diplomatic answer is Mineta from MHA. I want that diaper grape eviscerated.

6) Mint chocolate on pizza. Something about a cheesy pineapple makes my texture sensitivity want to fly into the sun.

7) Without a threat? I'd be able to use ODM gear at like a confident 4 because I train with weights 6x a week, but the second you put a titan in front of me? -10. We're getting eaten, my friends. I am so bad with scary things.

8) I'm going to be so honest -- I have never eaten any of these LMAO so I'm going by name, and 'Amy Macadamia' sounds very Myspace to me, so I'm going to sit myself in the mac nut corner.

9) Never read fic again. I've been writing my own self-indulgent fanfiction since I was ten years old on every surface I could pen or type. There is no way I am giving up the ability to hide in my own little escapism world.

10) You're fucking crazy SKDJFKSDF ALRIGHT I DID MY BEST

Chewing on one-half of his slightly stale sandwich, Connie squints at the titan strapped down by Hange's latest invention. Surveillance shifts sucked, but not even the brainless could convince the boy not to talk.

"So... you got a whole head of hair. Wild. Kinda flowy, and stuff -- to be put it mild." He chomps down on another edge, speaking with his mouth full. "How'd you grow that out?"

The titan blinks right through Connie's sandwich, its tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.

"Or were you... uh, titan-born that way?"

Another blink.

Yeah. this conversation was going a whopping fuckin' nowhere.

"Thought about growing out my own situation." Connie holds up his free hand to pet it through his own buzzcut. "I'm not bald, for your information."

It didn't ask. Then again, Connie didn't ask to get put on this damn detail, so he keeps going. He puffs out his chest and considers.

"I know Jean's already growing out his mullet, but would that be copying if I did it, too? I mean Mitras has, like -- what, three good hairstyles right now?" He lists on his sandwich-slicked fingers. "Mullet, braid -- ew -- and the undercut thing. I'm not getting flack for copying Captain Levi, though. No, siree."

The titan gurgles, and Connie can't help but feel like it was big guy code for indifference to his plight.

"...damn, you're really no help."

[marilostfieldblog]

[Video transcript begin.]

[The transcript begins with someone holding their phone, they are seemingly sitting on a bench. They take a deep sigh as loud music identified as "All I want for Christmas is you" is heard over a speaker.]

?: I am going to kill someone I swear.

[Voice identified: Mari.]

M: Will this music ever SHUT UP!

[Metallic clanks are heard just barely over the music, as well as laughter, it sounds non-human.]

M: Ugh… Has it really been three hours? Listen you and I both know you won't ki-

[The source of the noise moves into frame, shrouded in shadow. Their eyes shine like a wild animals would in the low light.]

?: Are you sure you know me well enough to make assumptions like that?

[Voice identified: Cassius.]

M: You are the one who told me you wouldn't kill me cuz I was taking care of a kid, and when I gave you the chance you said no.

C: THAT WAS BEFORE THIS FUCKING SONG GOT STUCK PLAYING ON LOOP OVER THE DAMN SPEAKERS. GET OVER HERE.

[He lunges towards the bench.]

M: Nope!

[Mari hops off the bench as Cassius flies into it, the song still playing as they begin running.]

[Cassius shouts in frustration, before giving chase, his footsteps heavy on the tile floor of the mall.]

M: Gonna have to catch me jackass!

C: You motherfucker! Get back here so I can gut you!

M: I have a kid to get out of this mall so not happening you bitch!

[Mari takes a sharp left turn, throwing a trash can at Cassius as they do.]

C: If you let me kill you, you won’t have to hear this infernal music anymore!

M: My point remains!

[The footsteps behind Mari turn to a sort of… scuttling, as Cassius switches to using the spider legs. Before switching back.]

M: If you want to kill me you have to get sparrow out!

C: I don’t have to do shit!

M: Then I ain't letting you catch me!

[Another corner is turned, a loud yell, then a crash can be heard behind Mari. Almost as if several cardboard boxes had fallen down.]

C: FUCKING HELL–

[Mari laughs, their laugh seemingly being one of joy and malice.]

M: GET FUCKED!

C: That tends to happen, yeah!

M: I doubt you get that much play.

C: You’d be surprised, Mari! Not like you’d know what works out there, you’ve only had like, one girlfriend! Where even is she?

[Mari points at someone barely out of frame.]

M: Right there apparently.

[Mari turns the phone, in view is someone with black hair wearing a showfall mask. They run off after about 5 seconds.]

M: Nevermind. Anyway you don't even HAVE a girlfriend.

C: Never wanted one! I don’t do that shit, jackass!

M: That why you fucked one of your bosses?

C: THERE’S A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A ONE NIGHT THING AND A LONG TERM RELATIONSHIP.

M: FAIR ENOUGH! BUT YOU CAN'T TALK ABOUT ME NOT KNOWING WHAT WORKS. I HAVEN'T HAD THE CHANCE I TURNED 18 INSIDE THIS HELLHOLE!

C: HOW THE FUCK DID WE GET ON THIS TOPIC!?

M: BECAUSE YOU TOOK 'Get fucked' A BIT TOO LITERAL!

[A short pause.]

C: STOP RUNNING SO I CAN MURDER YOU.

M: NO YOU FUCKER! No pun intended.

[Mari laughs as they continue running.]

[This continues for another few minutes, before the music in the background suddenly comes to a halt.]

M: What.

[Mari stops, the phone jolting as they do.]

C: Huh.

M: Did. The music just. Stop?

C: Guess they fixed it.

M: So uh… What now?

C: I don’t know. My main motivation is gone. So I guess I just… head back to the offices.

M: What the fuck.

C: What, do you want me to keep trying to murder you?

M: You wouldn't kill me anyway. You already proved that.

C: If you weren’t as fast as you are, I would’ve.

M: Bullshit. A. You've been given multiple opportunities. B. The deal with will.

[Cassius takes a few steps towards Mari.]

C: Please don’t mention the deal, not out in the open.

M: Fine. Whateve-

[Mari yawns, quite loudly.]

C: Jesus Christ. Do you not sleep at all? Why are you so fuckin’ tired?

M: Did you HEAR the music?

C: Of course I heard the fucking music! I’m talking about in general, asshole!

M: NO! I've been taking care of the kid, and if you were experimented on trapped in a dark room for god knows how long and your mom was a wire monster. YOU WOULD HAVE NIGHTMARES TOO.

C: … Get them a journal.

M: What?

C: You heard me. Get them a journal.

M: Wha- Why?

C: Are you dense? For the damn nightmares. Writing down things like that helps sometimes.

M: Oh… Um… Where am I gonna find one… Here?

C: … I’ll grab you one tomorrow. Just. Go back to your stupid area. I’m leaving.

M: Uh… Sure. Cool… Just uh… Ask Will for our location.

[Cassius nods, then, a few seconds later, his eyes widen slightly, realizing what he’s just done.]

C: [Whispered.] Fuck.

M: Hold on. If you ever… And I mean EVER. need help, big or small… Y'know where to find me Cass.

[Mari puts their head down, seemingly whispering.]

M: [Whispered.] Sparrow wants you and Ophelia to be ok… for will.

[Cassius stares at Mari, his expression hardens, yet his eyes are full of fear.]

C: I don’t need your fuckin’ help, Editor. And don’t call me ‘Cass’. We aren’t friends.

M: Ha… Haha… Hahahahaha…

[Mari breaks into a fit of laughter, this time the tone is more somber and caring.]

[He takes a few steps back, before turning around fully and walking away, his steps quicken as he gets farther away. He vanishes around a corner a few seconds later.]

M: Can't lie to me… God damnit why do I…

[Mari falls to the ground, seemingly confused.]

M: Why do I care… That idiot is nothing but an asshole to me but… Ugh. If he doesn't want…

[Mari stops, they continue laughing for 30 seconds before yawning again.]

M: If you see this, Will cares about you… And strike system or not I think you do too… So until you take things one step too far… I'm gonna try and help you. Because William is my friend too you dick.

[Mari yawns again, before passing out in a dark corner. The phone stays on for roughly 30 minutes before shutting off.]

[End transcript.]

[troublewithvampires-a]

Closed starter for @swxpped :3c

The sound of footsteps echoed all around Salvatore’s empty, concrete cell as the vampire paced back and forth, his head bowed low and his arms wrapped tight around his emaciated midsection. His blood red eyes were wide and wild, and he felt a churning in his long-dead heart that he hadn’t in a long time.

Earlier that day, a new caretaker had been foolish enough to enter Salvatore’s enclosure alone, noticeably without the silver around their neck that would protect them. Almost immediately, Salvatore lunged, slashing their face with his claws as he snapped at their throat. Unfortunately, and embarrassingly, he wasn’t able to actually bite them, as the other caretaker on duty caught wind of what was going on and quickly intervened. Bullets couldn’t hurt Salvatore anymore, but the silver nitrate they poured on him burned like a motherfucker.

Though he’d ripped the new caretaker a new one, he hadn’t gotten his meal, and now he was in pain and significantly more aware of his hunger than usual. Salvatore didn’t need blood to survive, sure, but the starvation still lingered heavily in his bones. All these years, and he hadn’t had even a single fucking drop.

More than that, though, Salvatore felt an aching sort of loneliness deep in his gut. He’d attacked the caretaker, sure, but before that, the kid had seemed eager to talk to him. People didn’t talk to Salvatore anymore--Victor had made sure of that. Yet this bright-eyed, fresh addition to Victor’s staff had decided to be the exception.

And what did Salvatore do? He ripped into them like a fucking animal. Shit, he really was a goddamn monster, wasn’t he?

Frustrated and furious at both himself and the world, Salvatore had taken to pacing his cell, glaring daggers at the cameras he knew were always watching him.

“Hope you’re enjoyin’ the fuckin’ show!” he snarled to the empty air. “Ol’ Sally finally put in his fuckin’ place, huh? Yeah, you sick fuck, I bet this is what you always wanted!” Nothing greeted him but his own voice, of course. Victor never spoke to him either, even though he knew the fucker was always listening.

Eventually, Salvatore grew tired of his frustrated pacing and collapsed near the back corner of his cell, in a little spot he’d learned was just out of the cameras’ view. He ground his sharp teeth together and growled, more to himself than anything. It felt good to be angry, but it wasn’t long before the anger melted out of him. He knew it was useless. No amount of anger would save him now.

Salvatore lay there on his side, huddled into a ball and staring into nothing. He did that a lot these days. However, it wasn’t long before his exhausted eyes fell on something he hadn’t noticed before: a small gap in the concrete wall, perhaps an inch or two long at most, only a few feet away. It was pretty unremarkable for the most part, but something about it had Salvatore transfixed, especially when he realized he could hear faint sounds of movement from the gap. Was there someone on the other side…?

Slowly, the vampire sat up, shuffling closer to the gap in the wall and pressing one pointed ear to it. Yes, he could hear someone on the other side. Most likely not a caretaker, because he couldn’t smell anything human there, but still someone. Someone alive and breathing and, hopefully, capable of talking.

Salvatore would never admit to the hopeful little smile that crossed his face as he pulled his head back to stare in wonder at the gap. Abruptly, he felt nervous, but more than anything he was excited. If this was real, he could finally talk to someone.

Feeling more than a little giddy, Salvatore leaned in and spoke into the gap in his dry, raspy voice, “Hello? Anyone there?”

[tomanpeach]

the rindou whisperer – reader x rindou

a/n: this is not very proofread bc i wrote it kinda quick so apologies if anything is very unhinged or messy LMAO listen besties nobody asked for this but i had no choice!!! i was reading these bonten hcs earlier and the writer said at the end that they HATED RINDOU????? and i took that personally bc i am in a civil union w his brother so i made this as an apology to rindou for the behavior of my peers please leave him some love in the reblogs enjoy xoxoxo

summary: rindou has a bad day but do not fear, you are here!!!! just some mfn annoying sweet bf rindou

content: mentions of alcohol and lots of cursing i'm sorry bout that!!!

word count: 1k (1,001 to be exact how crazy lol)

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

you brace yourself at the door to rindou's apartment on the top floor. after work you had excitedly texted him asking if he wanted to get dinner to celebrate the start of the weekend, or if he'd like you to pick something up and come over. the response you received was: "idk i had a shit fuckin day come over if you want"

you decide to use the key he had given you instead of knocking and risking incurring rindou's wrath, especially since he'd already told you he was in bad mood.

rindou was like a wild animal sometimes, when he felt angry or scared or cornered, he lashed out. but, after nine months of dating him, you liked to think that you had become a master in dealing with his frequent mood swings and unpredictability. you were the fucking rindou whisperer.

once you're inside the apartment, you spot him lying on the couch with one arm draped over his eyes. he's so still you aren't sure if he's even awake. you watch him intently as you shut the front door, searching for any sign that he's heard you come in.

he huffs out a sigh. so far so good.

before you say a word you head straight to his kitchen and get a beer from the fridge for him. "i don't want that," he calls from the couch behind you, following the sound of the refrigerator door closing.

"maybe it's for me," you reply simply. he says nothing.

you kick off your shoes and climb onto the couch, folding yourself neatly to fit in the space between his outstretched legs. his arm falls away from his face so he can scowl at you.

"do you have to sit so fucking close?"

"yeah, i do," you spit back, narrowing your eyes at him.

despite growing up being on seemingly equal footing with his older brother, he still managed to feel like he was living in his shadow. ran was older, taller, and more assertive. he knew how to be charming and funny and how to get shit done. people liked and respected him but more importantly, they feared him.

rindou longed to be seen like his brother was. he fought, he killed, he strategized, and as he and ran climbed the ranks of the tokyo delinquent scene, he reveled in the respect his subordinates were forced to show him. and, once he realized they were afraid of him, he reveled in that, too.

but rin realized how much it had gone to his head when he met you. it had been infuriating to speak to you. you weren't a member of bonten, or any gang for that matter. you weren't involved in his world at all. and as such, you didn't have to show him the same forced respect that he expected from everyone else. you talked back, you teased him, you dared to challenge him, and he fucking hated it for a while. but for some reason, it was humbling for him. it brought him back down to earth. so he kept seeing you and pretty soon, the way you acted around him became grounding. sometimes, it was honestly kind of sexy.

"sit up," you pat his thigh. "come on."

your stubborn boyfriend stares back at you without moving. you wonder just how difficult he's going to be today.

"rin," you let yourself whine the tiniest bit, frowning at him.

with a melodramatic eyeroll he plants his hands on the couch cushions and lifts himself up. because of how you chose to sit on the couch, you're practically in his lap once he's seated upright.

"i still don't want the fuckin' beer," he snarls. now it's your turn to roll your eyes. you take a sip and push it into his hands. he places it onto the table.

"why was your day shit?" you ask, tucking some lavender strands of hair out of his face. he shakes his head to deter you, "i don't want to talk about it. just generally shitty."

"would all the chinese food i brought you from that spot you love down the street help at all?"

the corner of his mouth turns up the slightest bit as he exhales through his nose in something resembling a laugh.

"oh, there he is," you say fondly, stroking his cheek. he leans into the touch, telling you that the big angry gang boss part of him was slowly losing steam. you lean in to kiss his cheek. he places a hand behind your head, holding you there next to his face and turning so your lips meet his own.

he presses his forehead against yours and mumbles a quiet, "sorry... for being a dick."

"you're not a dick," you cup his cheek and kiss him once more. "you just had a bad day. nothing i haven't seen before."

"you see it a lot, though," he sighs heavily, seeking out your hands with his in your lap.

"i don't mind."

"how?" he pulls away, grimacing.

"because i'm in love with you, stupid."

rindou smiles again, sheepish and genuine, at the way you say it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. his charming smile, the way he's looking at you. you know he's feeling better.

you reach for him and he lets you hug around his middle and lay him back. now you're both horizontal on the couch, your cheek to rindou's chest. he feels comforted by the weight of your body against his.

"is today still shit?" you ask teasingly when he starts to run his hands up and down your back.

"shut up."

"fuck you, you feel better now. be sweet to me."

"today isn't shit now that you're here," he mumbles quietly. "everything's a lot better when you're around."

"and you love me?"

"yeah, i love you."

and despite the big goofy grin on his face, and the fact that you can't actually see his face at all, you're sure that he's rolling his eyes.

[zodiyack]

Niffler’s New Discovery

Requested by anon: May I request a the youngest Shelby sister x Newt Scamander story? The Shelby sister is nothing like her siblings. She’s shy, reads books like they’re oxygen, loves animals, and doesn’t drink, smoke, or anything like that. She doesn’t even swear, she’s so pure. She also loves his animals. And Tommy acts like her father but she loves her brother very much. Same as her other brothers. They find out she’s dating him and get all overprotective. Sorry if this is too specific. I just love the idea of a Shelby sister who’s nothing like her siblings. Because most of the Shelby reader fics always have them smoking and all that. Which they are fun to read, but it’s nice to see something different. Feel free to pick the Scenario. :)

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Female!Shelby!Innocent!Reader

Warnings: Swearing (not from reader ofc :)) slight suggestiveness (also not from reader), fluff, ✨m a g i c✨

Words: 1,303

Summary: (See Request...also I thought the gif was cute, so anon, I based it off the gif kinda)

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @marquelapage, @stuckysslag, @psychkunox​, @i-love-superhero​

Masterlist | Fantastic Beasts (AWTFT) Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

At first, they had no problem keeping their relationship hidden from her overly protective family, but the troublemaker Newt constantly had to chase down and return to his case was the thing that exposed them. The bloody Niffler just loved things that shined. Who could blame it though? It was it’s nature.

Just as it was the Shelby brothers nature to react the way they did. Violent, perhaps, but of their nature. Their possessive, over the top protective, shitty, big brother, nature.

And it all started, one late afternoon...

The older Shelby trio, not counting Ada with her age advance over John, returned home after a nice night out at the pub. Sure, the sun hadn’t set yet, but Pol wanted them to return home a little earlier today for a family meeting. The meeting included everyone, minus the innocent angel whom the Shelbys called their sister.

It was the perfect time to have Newt over. The perfect time to explore the secret world hidden inside his little brief case. If only they knew the pesky Niffler had been waiting.

“Are you sure they won’t suspect anything of my presence?” Newt hesitated, one foot hovering above the wooden flooring of Y/n’s bedroom, the other resting on the rooftop outside her window.

She ushered him in the rest of the way, making sure to lock her door after checking that no one was around. “Positive. Family meetings take a while, so we’re good on time. How about you? Are you sure this is good with the council?”

He had a guilt-ridden look across his face as he looked around. “There are some things the council doesn’t have to know.” A nervous laugh rumbled in his throat before he cleared it and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Uh huh... Well, just promise me that you won’t get into any serious trouble for this, alright Newton?” The blushing hufflepuff gave his lover a quick nod, as well as a smile in return for the little peck she placed upon his cheek, pinkening his skin further down his neck- it was no surprise that Newt was terribly new to receiving affection from anything other than his beasts that resided in his case.

“S-shall we be going?” He broke the tension, gesturing to the case in front of them.

“Boys.” Polly stopped the bickering that had started up between John and Tommy, her eyes drifting toward the ceiling, the trios’ following. “Your sister’s been awfully quiet.”

John cackled, “Oh no, maybe she snuck out, went to have a quick fuck with some guy off the streets, didn’t she Pol?” His rather sarcastic tone suggested his knowledge that the referenced behavior was most certainly unlike his little sister, but the immaturity of John Shelby simply couldn’t resist making a joke.

Polly, however, was in no mood for John’s incessant kidding. Her hand met the back of his head, a disapproving furrow of her brows telling him to stop talking. “I’m being serious, you idiot. It’s more quiet than usual.”

“And what about it, Pol?” Tommy spoke after taking a drag from his cigarette, an eyebrow quirked.

“If she really does have a boy up there, he better pray he’s out the window by the time we get up there.”

Tommy’s brow, lowered after asking Polly how she’d respond, lifted back once again. “There’s no God for him to pray to, Arthur. The boy is fucked, plain and simple.”

“In more ways than one.”

John’s childish cackles were hushed into silence, a slap sounding throughout the room prior to their ceasing. A hand rubbing the back of his head, John glared at his aunt, yet continued the discussion of what to do with Y/n nonetheless.

The past ten minutes had been spent trying to block off any and all exists for the pesky little Niffler. Each time it attempted to escape the bedroom, Y/n or Newt were quick to block it off. It amazed Y/n how many places the little creature could scurry off through. Unfortunately, with their wild-goose-chase, footsteps turned to stomps...well, really running, but downstairs it was more likely to sound aggressive, such as the hard thud of a Blinder’s boot on the floor of the Garrison.

It was inevitable; the possibility of being caught, but the fact seemed to slip their minds as they both tried to corner the Niffler, as well as capture it once more. Every shiny thing, ranging from jewelry to bullet casings, or things that caught her eye, made into décor (gifted from her brothers, as she would never touch a gun unless need be) were being stolen as the creature evaded capture.

Newt shot Y/n a sorry look each time one of her belongings were snatched up by the Niffler. It touched her heart, truly, it did, but now was not the time to swoon. Y/n froze as the Niffler wandered over to a bottle. Wine? Champagne? She didn’t know; Y/n never drank- the bottle was a gift from her sister in law, which she couldn’t turn down without upsetting her, so it soon became another...decoration.

Atop the bottle was shimmery, gold-like, wrapping. Of course it caught the mischievous little shine-thief’s eye. It pulled and pulled, Y/n and Newt made eye contact as the uneasy feeling in their guts mirrored, until POP!

The door broke open with a loud bang, Arthur standing confused before getting both a Niffler and a cork to the space between his brows. While Y/n flinched, Newt only looked away in shame.

“What. The. Literal. Fuck. Was. That?” John gapped. His usual remark would be to poke fun, but he too was in great shock, he couldn’t even think of anything humorous.

“A- ...A Niffler.” Newt stuttered. His rather shy demeanor was rarely common around Y/n, so she new he was slightly uncomfortable the second his hand lifted to itch the back of his neck as his eyes found interest in the floorboards.

“Did I fuckin’ ask you?” John narrowed his eyes at the timid wizard.

It was unusual for Y/n to get angry, but the unjustness of John’s attitude toward her lover didn’t sit well with her. “Leave him alone!”

Now there was more to be shocked about. “I- what?”

“You heard me, John. You, Arthur, and Thomas. Leave Newt alone. He didn’t mean for this to happen, so he shouldn’t be harassed by you three. Want to question him? Have Pol do it, but the second you come to my room and bully my lover is the second you cross the line.”

Tommy, amused, let out a little chuckle as he raised his eyebrows.

“Something funny to you, Thomas? ‘Cause I don’t think any of us are laughing.”

 “No, sister, nothing is of humor to me.” He muttered despite dawning a lopsided smirk. Tommy looked at his brothers and nodded his head toward the stairs before walking away. Although he was leaving, he never said he wouldn’t poke at the boy some more. Now just wasn’t worth it; he was already shaking in his boots as it is.

“Tommy- where- where’re you goin’?” John did a double take, following shortly after.

Arthur rubbed the red spot where he’d been nailed by the creature and it’s new favorite possession, proved by it cuddling the cork close to it’s body on the floor where it had landed after hitting Arthur. He excused himself politely before walking in the same direction as his brothers, still rubbing at his soon-to-be-bruising injury all the way down.

Newt took the opportunity to grab the niffler and tickle Y/n’s possessions from his tummy before running over and tucking him in the case. The anger faded from Y/n’s eyes as she watched her lover. “It looks as though the Niffler has discovered something new.” Newt chuckled lightly, easing up slowly.

“New indeed.”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

chained, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: You ever fuck someone wearing a collar and a chain... that's attached to the hot girl with the demonic grin? No? Just Min Yoongi? In his defense, he really likes a bad bitch.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; yup, there are Marilyn Manson and Slipknot references; D/s smut (fem reader, black leather collars and a chain leash, [a lot of] choking, saliva everywhere, handjob, m-receiving oral, slight edging, hair pulling, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU - rapper, sub!Yoongi x goth (also kinda his manager? lol) dom!reader; kinda PWP; Yoongi's POV

--

feel like I'm hexed, yeah, that bitch bad collar on her neck and her ass real fat

Most people would say, “Nah, dude, don’t mess with girls like that.”

Most people would say, “She’s fucking scary, why the hell would you think she’s hot?”

Most people would, but Min Yoongi wasn’t most people.

“I want to play a game.”

He tilted his head. “Then let’s play a game.”

She grinned, wild hair over her left eye. “Yeah?”

The first time he met her, he was at a bar and a woman was chatting him up, engaging him in conversation he didn’t want to be in. Fuck. The only reason he came was to accompany his friends, but they were all much more extroverted than he was and had already wandered off with potentials of the night. He didn’t want a potential. He just wanted a damn shot of whiskey and then he was going to slink into a corner and pretend nobody existed.

He minimized his responses to, “Mhm” and “Yeah,” but the woman wasn’t getting the hint and the bartender was busy. Sigh.

All of a sudden, a short man with a white, mannequin-like mask appeared. The white mask was painted with black streaks. He had stringy, long black and red hair and was wearing black coveralls.

Yoongi and the woman jumped away from each other, disconcerted by the appearance of the strange, tiny man.

“Bartender! Hey, real quick, can you get my friend here a drink?”

And then, fuck.

Black leather jacket, silver hardware. Tight fitted white top, so shredded the black bra underneath was visible. Short black pleated skirt. Ripped tights. Thick black boots with chains. Yoongi felt his eyes widen, looking up and down at this curvy frame. Wild hair, lush tits, juicy thighs, an ass that could put anyone in a trance with the way those hips swayed. Dark makeup, playful grin with red-stained lips.

A black choker with at least eight-centimeter spikes.

A pure white contact lens in her left eye.

“Hey, you can’t cover your face here,” a patron interrupted. “That’s creepy.”

The small man in the mask didn’t reply. The woman in black, however, swatted a hand like she was whacking away a fly.

“He’s part of the entertainment. Buzz off.”

“Oh, yes, you’re the band’s drummer, right?” The bartender rushed over. “Sorry, sorry. What will it be?”

The masked man said nothing.

“Double shot whiskey on the rocks,” the woman replied for him. “Did I get it right this time, Hana?”

A single nod from that stringy head.

“What about you?”

Yoongi jumped, startled the woman in black leather was addressing him. She cocked her head to the confused bartender. “You’ve been standing here ignored for the past ten minutes. I noticed because I was waiting for the guys to suit up to bring Hana to the bar.” She waved her hand. “Come on. Give me your order. I got you.”

“O… Oh. Same thing.”

She nodded. “Ya heard him. And don’t just only pay attention to cute girls, bartender.”

The bartender’s cheeks flushed. “A-Ah, I apologize! I’ll have them ready right away.”

The woman sighed and shook her head, completely ignoring the chatty woman who was making eyes at Yoongi, trying to get near him again. Yoongi pretended not to notice, stepping closer to the short, creepy man. The white mask didn’t move. The woman leaned down a bit because the man was shorter than she was with her height and platform boots.

“Don’t be takin’ nothing with the whiskey now. I’m treatin’ ya,” she chuckled under her breath.

Yoongi noticed the slight satoori. It made her voice a little deep and gruff.

“Shut it.”

She snickered. “Made you talk, Hana.”

The white mask went back to being silent.

She sighed and stood back up turning her attention to Yoongi. “Sorry about my friend here. He doesn’t like talking or people. I’m trying to get him to be more personable. Is it working?”

Yoongi blinked.

“Uh.”

Damn, every time she smiled, he felt a thrill shoot up his spine. White teeth showing, pink tongue peeking out between them.

It just seemed a little psychotic, a little mischievous, and a lot sexy.

“I know it’s not working. Can’t say I didn’t try.”

The masked man might as well have been a mannequin with how still he was.

“You’re his manager?” Yoongi found himself asking.

She shrugged. “Kind of? I actually just own the studio space the band records. But I like coming to the gigs sometimes if I can. Good excuse to get a little drunk, eh? Plus, I’m trying to find musicians to rent out the other spaces.”

Fuck.

Was it his lucky day or what?

“I’m looking for a studio space to record my music, actually.”

Her eyebrows raised. “No shit? You wanna talk some business?”

Oh, they talked business to bass and drums thundering the bar.

Later, they talked about some… other things too. What could he say? Yoongi liked a bad bitch. She wore leather, she owned cluster of studio spaces – “well, they ain’t mine, they’re my dad’s, but he’s never here, he’s off gambling and chasing booty, I think” – she gave him a fair price, and she loved to suck dick.

Yoongi didn’t find out about that last bit until later.

Right now, she was clipping the end of a silver chain to the collar around his neck.

It was heavy, probably metal. The collar he was wearing was thick black leather, with a steel ring resting against his collarbones. Yoongi was pretty sure she was doing a number on him. He wore a lot of black, yeah. He liked leather jackets too. But being around her presence was messing with his head and he was pretty sure he was being influenced by her energy. He used to hate his eye shape and his dark circles, but when he saw himself in the mirror with her tangled around him, riding his dick, he found himself thinking he didn’t look so bad after all. He looked good standing with the woman with the white contact lens and the demonic grin.

Maybe he was a little crazy, but everyone was a little crazy. Yoongi wasn’t worried about something like that.

Right now, she licked her teeth with that lithe, pink tongue of hers.

The other end of the chain was connected to the collar around her neck.

“You wanna play?” she drawled.

Fuck, he loved that shit. Her voice got slightly deep and throaty when she spoke in satoori. He wasn’t sure if she noticed it or not. It must be from her father. She mentioned that she had been raised by her dad – “sporadically, he liked to travel and, by travel, I mean gamble and chase ass, although surprisingly he didn’t come back with more kids, so I guess he learned his lesson” – but she was kind of the same way.

Not the gambling bit.

He didn’t really mind it though. She didn’t try to hide anything and he encouraged her to be herself. Plus, no one was getting the treatment he got. Yoongi was pretty sure about that, because when she fucked around, she did it in public. He had to be the one to tell her to take it upstairs and go for the throat.

Alright, not the throat. The dick.

In some way, Yoongi felt that was her way of asking if he approved, because she never took it upstairs and out of his sight unless he gave her the go ahead.

Right now, her tongue extended and wiggled in the air, glossy and slick with her saliva.

He smirked, open-mouthed and with a flick of tongue at the edge of his teeth.

She gripped the chain and yanked him by the neck to her face, crashing that demonic grin to his lips.

Like an injection or a spell, it gave him a rush, the firm leather snapping against his neck, chained to her, both wearing the collars, but she was always in control, always, and he liked it like that, liked the way she traced his lips with her powerful tongue, her saliva his aphrodisiac, before she captured his lips and rolled her body into his lap, skin to skin, moving like a snake, his gasp against her devouring mouth, her bare ass sliding on his thigh, fuck, so sexy, so soft, so bouncy, one hand on his face and another on his shoulder, fingers spread out and tendons flexing.

He liked to say she was the angel that held up her blinding halo with devil horns.

She yanked on the chain and Yoongi sucked in a breath, closing one eye as she licked his cheek, ending with a kiss on his brow. Cold air chilled his wet skin, making him shiver.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ hot, Yoongi.”

Pretty sure neither of them believed in a god but it got the point across.

He raised his hand and she smacked his wrist down, pinning it to the bed.

“Nuh uh.”

Yoongi wasn’t really expecting her to let him.

He raised his other hand. It was immediately swatted down onto the bed, her eyebrow cocking.

“Naughty, naughty.”

He cocked an eyebrow back, defying.

She leaned down and snatched the chain in her mouth, tugging on it with teeth and neck, narrowing her eyes. The white contact lens on her left eye gleamed under her lashes. She always wore it except right before sleeping. He once asked her why and she had shrugged.

“Mental security, I guess.”

Now, she growled like an animal.

“Down.”

She looked like she was about to headbutt him. He wouldn’t put it past her.

He lowered himself slowly, her mouth holding the chain taut until he was laying on the bed. She grinned, pleased at his obedience. Yoongi was quite sure that she was probably the closest being to a succubus that he would ever encounter with the violent thrill of arousal she was giving him with those plush lips and white teeth around the silver chain, pink tongue circling around the metal to tease him.

Maybe he was the crazy one for being turned on by it.

She dropped the chain on his chest. He flinched, the wet, heavy metal thudding onto his sternum, right against his pounding heartbeat. She rubbed her thigh against his balls and hardening cock, raising her head, chain following, higher, higher, letting go of his hands, arching her back, tits up, until it was fully taut between his neck and hers, the sides of the collars forcefully digging into his neck and hers. Yoongi did not lift his head from the bed to reduce the tension. Her devilish smile widened. A chain tug-of-war between collar to collar, both of them choking the other.

She lifted her hand and licked her palm, saturating it with saliva.

She reached down and wrapped her long fingers around his stiff length.

Didn’t say he could touch her though, so Yoongi didn’t.

“Think you can last longer than last time?”

He clenched his jaw. “Maybe.”

She pulled harder and he locked his neck and shoulders, clutching the sheets with a sharp gasp, pleasure shooting up his core, firm, strong strokes up and down his cock, fuck, fuck, every damn time, that second of cold as her saliva soaked his skin and then it warmed up fast to hot, slippery ecstasy, hard and getting harder, his pre-cum mixing with her saliva, staring at her hard nipples and juicy hips, knees around one of his thighs, shaking her ass when she noticed him looking, changing the pace, addicted to the feeling of her hands. He could feel the bones and the hard muscle of her grip and, sure, that didn’t sound sexy, but it felt incredible, adding stimulation in that inescapable hold and paired with slickness, choking his cock slightly and he craved every second of it, thighs tense and hard, growling in his throat as he dug his head into the mattress, pulling the chain for all it was worth, lightheaded now, the leather cutting in, probably leaving a mark, locking eyes with mischievous orbs and an impish smirk, the sides of her collar also cutting into the sides of her neck, choking herself as she was choking him while jacking him off.

Black haze threatened the edges of his vision.

He was going to pass out or cum. Yoongi didn’t care which happened first.

“F… Fuck!”

Yoongi snapped his jaw shut and shot up her forearm and down his length, strained groan of her name leaking past his teeth, bolts of pleasure invading his nerves all the way up to his scalp, blossoming into an erotic haze. She snapped her head forward. Oxygen flooded his brain, his jaw going slack with a moan, his eyes rolling back, high so high his whole body shuddered, barely registering her movement, hearing the lewd slurps of her drinking up his cum.

Wet.

Hot.

“Shit!”

Her mouth enveloped his twitching length, burying it deep into her throat, slathering tongue and satisfied hiss, chain clinking against his stomach and hitting his trembling balls, twisting her head so the chain wouldn’t cause any damage to them as she began to suck, flashes of tongue flickering out of the edges of those plush lips, grazing his crotch and scrotum, pointedly staring at him with an arched eyebrow.

She bounced her hips when she noticed him looking, shaking her ass as she sucked his dick.

Yoongi grinned.

His vision was barely focusing, trying to recover from orgasm in the midst of the intoxicating pleasure of her soft and tight mouth, tongue rubbing under the head of his cock, causing it to jerk and swell in the back of her throat and then she thrust it all the way back in there, taking him impossibly deep, sinfully moaning around his cock, vibrating it with lust. He glanced at her hands, fingers spread out and joints locked, tendons flexed, pointed black fingernails clawing into the sheets.

The heat flaring over his abdomen and hips was rising to his limit once more.

Yoongi panted her name, hoarse and breathless, realizing his Daegu satoori was suddenly more prominent in his disheveled state.

“I’m gonna cum–”

She popped her mouth off his cock and he snapped his teeth, snarling.

“You bitch.”

She grinned, wiggling her tongue, thick plops of saliva dripping down and hitting his flinching hips and throbbing cock, the head an angry purple-red from being so roughly stimulated after orgasm. The white contact gleamed alongside the devious glint in her right eye, black pupils blown out, a little psychotic, a little mischievous, and a lot sexy.

It didn’t matter who was on top because she knew she was always on top.

To be clear, Yoongi didn’t take shit from anyone without a fight. It got him in trouble sometimes, but this particular brand was trouble was the kind he liked. She gave him a long period of two seconds to roll the condom down before tangling one hand in the metal chain and the other in his black hair, pulling both in opposite directions. He hissed dangerously, plunging his hard cock into the wet, waiting heat, scorched by her roughness and his desire, one of her legs on his shoulder and the other around his waist, smacking their bodies together with violent force.

The tip of her tongue traced her teeth, grinning demonically.

“Come on, you said you were gonna play the game with me, Yoongi,” she chuckled, naughtily mocking him, voice deep and rough from her satoori.

“Let’s see if you can keep up,” he growled in kind, low and gravelly.

She pulled on the collar much harder than his hair, but both were equally arousing, prickling pain on his scalp and circulation cut short once again, brief flashes of oxygen bleeding through with his aggressive thrusts, the excess chain knocking against her collarbones, just another layer of sound along with slapping hips and squelching juices, her velvet walls clenching around him with every descent, not going fast so he could last, burying deep and hitting her hard. She winced, guttural growl at the base of her throat and the side of his lips quirked up.

“Too much?” he taunted.

“I’ll tell you when it’s too much,” she grunted, jerking her hips up and brutally squeezing the head deep inside.

“Fuck…”

He knew she wouldn’t let him do anything she didn’t want, so he kept going, her wrist flicking up with every thrust, leather collar snapping into his skin, thinning his breath to gasps at the stinging pain, the hand in his hair releasing him, messy black strands invading his vision, but he had no time to complain, groaning as her nails dug into his back and dragged up, inflamed hot lines that shot into his system and fed his adrenaline. His fists bunched the sheets, locking his shoulders, clenching his jaw, flexing his neck, and now he was being choked again, consistently this time, oxygen thinning out once more, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Her smile sent thrills up his spine and they split at the base of his head, tendrils of vicious desire numbing all sensations except lust, gluttonous for the pain that nourished more pleasure, greedy for everything she forced him to take, too prideful to ask her to loosen her hold, desperate not to give in to her wrath, usually slothful but now using every fiber of his strength to push himself to the limit, high getting higher knowing that anyone would be envious of how good he got it from that fiendish playful grin and hot delicious body under him, collared together in joined sin.

She let out a low moan, basking in him, feeding his need to satisfy hers.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot, Yoongi.”

He managed to get out half of a breath, staring into those irises, one real, one covered in white.

“Fuck, your voice gets me off every time,” he hissed.

He slammed his hips down and she clamped around his entire length, releasing the chain, both of their heads tipping back, his in the air and hers into the pillows, moans in unison as he shot into the condom and she released onto his twitching length and skin, coating him with slickness. The scent of sex permeated the air, his previous orgasm soaked into the sheets already and hers smearing with it as their hips descended, his throbbing cock pulsed by her flinching walls, her thighs tense around his waist and his hard ones against her ass, making sure to lean forward so he didn’t fall out, savoring every second of their joined bodies.

The hotel room was certainly getting some important use.

Yoongi remembered he had been annoyed when she said he should rent one since the potential gig was rather far away and transportation so late at night was going to be a bitch. He almost didn’t do it, but she rolled her eyes and booked it anyway, triumphant when he sold out the venue. Not a huge venue, but bigger than he had ever performed before.

He still said she had to make it up to him for making him travel farther than he originally wanted.

As usual, Yoongi was not disappointed.

“Housekeeping is gonna be pissed,” she chuckled. “Smells like sex.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“How’s your throat?”

“Pretty sure rapping strains the inside of my throat, not the outside.”

She chuckled. “Now you hurt all over.”

“Good.”

Yoongi closed the distance and kissed that smirk, metal chain sandwiched between their hot, sweaty skin, the steel rings of the black leather collars clinking against each other.

--

masterpost

-

the lyrics in the beginning are from hot demon b!tches near u!! by CORPSE ft night lovell

[yslkook]

rear view (5)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: sora sets you up on a blind date, and the night ends up being an enjoyable, pleasant surprise. pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, kinda toxic friendship

Five minutes. Ten minutes. Then fifteen minutes. Then twenty-five. The waitress has come by twice already, giving you a look of sympathy when you sigh and give up on waiting.

He’s not coming, you realize with a sigh. You check your phone for any messages from him for the millionth time in ten minutes, only to see that you have no notifications waiting to be opened.

So you were really stood up. But maybe something came up? An emergency, maybe? You give him the benefit of the doubt until he has the opportunity to explain himself. But truly, you’re already over the excitement of a first date. A blind first date. You’re already over daydreaming over the potential of him.

Instead, your heart aches over the rejection. Perhaps there was no emergency. Perhaps it was you.

You leave the restaurant in a hurry, tipping the waitress despite not ordering anything except for a glass of water (that you hadn’t even finished). You leave before you can spiral through your thoughts in such a public place, knowing that tears are already pricking at the back of your eyes.

You walk aimlessly through the familiar streets of the city with blurry eyes. It was silly of you to get your hopes up over the mere idea of possibility. You had enough self-respect to know that he had done you so wrong, but it still didn’t soothe the hurt.

You never put yourself out there, not really. But when you do, this is what happens. You get stood up. It doesn’t help that the man you actually wanted to go on a date with had pulled away from you a little bit in the last few days.

This is just a distraction. From your own sad, frustrated heart. Frustration of yourself, mainly, for not really going after what you truly want.

Such is life. In a few hours, you’ll be okay. You know you’ll get over it soon. But for now, you just want to wallow in your self-deprecating thoughts.

Wallowing in your self-deprecating thoughts led you to a bar with dim lights and only a few patrons in it. It also led you into having exactly two shots and two drinks, resulting in your present tipsy state.

You’re alone and you could drop your head to the bartop and just cry and cry and cry. In some corner of your mind, you knew this was a bad idea.

Truly, it was not one of your best ideas.

You contemplate calling a friend to come pick you up, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. You don’t want to talk to anyone. Or so you’ve convinced yourself.

Even the bartender looks at you like you’re pathetic. Maybe you are.

You start to cry despite your best efforts to hold it in, vaguely aware that your perfectly done mascara is streaking down your face in dark rivulets. The bartender looks alarmed and asks if there is anyone you can call.

You’re about to sob again and say no, there’s nobody. In your narrow mind, there is nobody, nobody who wants you-

But then your phone rings. And it’s Jungkook.

“H-hello,” You mumble, hoping your voice sounds more sober than you actually are.

“Why’d you pick up? Aren’t you on a date?” Jungkook asks, something teasing with an undercurrent of concern in his tone.

“I mean, I was…” You reply, desperately focusing your gaze on the edge of the bartop. As if that’ll keep your voice from breaking.

“No second date? He couldn’t get it up? Bet the guy couldn’t tell his head from his ass, huh-”

“He didn’t show up, Jungkook,” You say sharply, having possibly the first moment of clarity you’ve had all night, “He didn’t fucking show up, he didn’t text or call me, and now I’m drinking at a bar by myself.”

There’s a pause and then a dry laugh that pulls a watery laugh from you, too.

“Well, why didn’t you say so? Where are you? Let’s get drunk together then, baby.”

“Y’know what,” You slur, “I don’ care! I don’ give a sing- singular fuck-” You hiccup and glare at Jungkook, who is sitting next to you with amused eyes, not nearly as drunk as you are.

“Okay, party animal. Is that so?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow and pushes your glass of water closer to you.

He’s so close to you that you can smell his cologne and feel his warmth radiating through his leather jacket. His piercings glint with the dim light of the bar, but he looks as ethereal and demonic as ever.

You think his eyes flash red for a minute. You must be really drunk.

“Hell yeah,” You mutter, “Fuck that guy. Nobody ever wants what ‘m selling a-and I even waxed for this-”

Jungkook knows you’re good and drunk because you hardly ever open yourself up like this. At least in front of him. He’s never seen you so open, not even with your own mutual friends. It’s nice to see you with your guard down.

He wants what you’re selling, but that’s a conversation for later.

“Why didn’t you call Sora?” Jungkook asks bluntly, “Your annoying as fuck best friend would’ve come to pick you up, right?”

After all, she was the one who masterminded this entire disaster. Even if he was pouting over the fact that you were going on a date with someone who wasn’t him, he’s more concerned over the fact that you hadn’t even wanted to go. And yet, you still went because of some weird obligation you felt you owed Sora and this stranger.

It makes Jungkook’s chest burn.

Your face immediately falls and you take a large sip of your water, “She’s not around. She went to her parent’s place for the weekend.”

“Yoongi? Hoseok?” Jungkook sighs, “Who else would you fuckin’ call, baby?”

“You called,” You say quietly, looking up at him with swirling soft, dark eyes, “Besides, I just wanted to... sulk for a bit.”

Jungkook hates when you look at him like that. As if he has the answers to the entire universe, to the meaning of life. It makes him feel vulnerable, like you’re staring directly into his heart. He doesn’t know how Yunho could ever have stood you up- when you’d probably look at him the same way.

He doesn’t know how Yunho could ever have stood you up, when you look so pretty. Clearly, you had dressed up for the loser- your eyes bright and pretty against your makeup, your dark green blouse neatly tucked into your dark wash jeans and your oversized coat sitting pretty on your shoulders. Your lips are painted red and pulled into a pretty pout as you chew on your bottom lip. Thin, gold chains sit around your neck.

It annoys him. Annoys him that some asshole stood you up. Annoys him that some asshole hurt your feelings enough for you to find a friend in alcohol this way. Annoys him that your lips are about to bleed-

“Stop that,” Jungkook scolds lightly. You look at him in confusion and before you can say anything, he gently pulls your bottom lip out of the enamel cage of your teeth. Your breath hitches at his touch, heart immediately accelerating. “You’ll make your lips fuckin’ bleed. Is that what you want?”

Instead of answering, you take a swig of your water and avoid his intense gaze. Jungkook has always somewhat intimidated you, from when you had first met him (barely as acquaintances, when Hoseok had cheerily introduced you both) to now.

It’s not the piercings, the all black and the tattoos visible on his knuckles, his forearms, and the peek of ink on his neck. It’s his entire presence- he’s always felt so larger than life to you that he overwhelms you sometimes. Drives you to the point of silence, like now.

You’ve always been a little envious of him through the years (even from just being friends with him on the periphery) if you’re being completely honest. If he wants something, he just goes and gets it. And then there’s you- deliberating and contemplating every possible outcome before ultimately (likely) convincing yourself out of whatever it is. Especially if it proves to be an inconvenience to anyone around you.

“Who was the fucker anyway?” Jungkook asks abruptly, tearing you from your train of thought.

“Huh?”

“The asshole who made you cry,” Jungkook says breezily.

“Oh, uh. Yunho, he’s a friend of a friend of Sora’s,” You croak weakly with a feeble smile, “But it’s okay, I mean, I’m sure there’s a reason-”

“Don’t do that,” Jungkook hisses, eyes flashing once more at you, “Don’t make excuses for an asshole treating you disrespectfully. You can say he’s an asshole, you can tell him to fuck off. Did you even want to go?”

“I-I don’t know,” You say with wide eyes and a nod, “He’s an asshole and he can fuck all the way off, so far off that his head gets stuck up his ass-”

Jungkook lets out an airy chuckle, a smile that fills up his entire face and it makes your heart skip a beat. “Good girl,” Jungkook mutters, shuffling a little closer to you, “And if I ever see him around, I’ll kick his ass, baby. Don’t worry about a damn thing.

“Besides,” Jungkook nearly purrs, his tattooed hand dangerously close to your thigh but his fingers float upwards to dance over your chin, “You’re brilliant and pretty. It’s his loss. I don’t think you really wanted to see him anyway.”

You wish you could have said something suave to match his dark, balmy charm, but instead you just choke on your water and Jungkook laughs at you.

Jungkook’s only fatal flaw (in his humble opinion, at least) is that he’ll never say no or that he’ll never back down from a challenge. Much less a challenge from you.

Which is exactly why, about an hour later, he’s three shots and two drinks deep into an impromptu drink-off that you’ve challenged him to. The apples of his cheeks are flushed and your laughs are wild and uninhibited.

Your words are slurred, questions and answers spilling off of your tongue in a drunken haze. But you look so happy, you sound so much happier than you did when he had called you. Your cheeks ache from how much you smile and drunkenly giggle around him, and he always wants to see you like this.

Jungkook can recognize that much even through his own drunkenness. Your eyes are crinkled in mirth at something he’s said (he’s probably making fun of you), hands playfully shoving his shoulder.

He catches your hand easily- he’s tempted to thread his fingers through yours, if only to see the flustered look on your face and to see your reaction. What Jungkook wants, he gets.

So he pushes his fingers between the small spaces of yours, watching carefully for your soft gasp and the widening of your dark eyes. He grins at you, before pulling his hand away. It’s like a shock to the system, as if you’ve been doused with cold water.

“Whattsa matter?” Jungkook teases but you only level him with a glare.

“Don’t hold my hand,” You say sternly (as sternly as you can while being absolutely intoxicated) with furrowed brows, “If you don’t mean it, don’t hold my hand.”

“And who said I didn’t mean it, pretty girl?”

You hide your face from him yet again by taking another hearty swig of your drink, trying to ignore the burning in your face. You quickly change the topic, shifting a few inches further from him to create space.

Jungkook only laughs at how easy it is to fluster you.

Jungkook keeps his arm tight around your shoulders as you both walk through the now thinning streets of the city. It’s not as crowded as it was a few hours ago, but you’re clumsy and drunk.

He’s wary of people’s gazes on him and on you. You don’t seem to notice it, but he does. Jungkook always does- people are so quick to judge. Can’t seem to mind their own business.

But it doesn’t bother him, especially not when you feel as warm as you do against him.

You’re rambling about something- he doesn’t think he’s ever heard you speak this much ever- when you nearly trip on a misaligned edge of the sidewalk. But Jungkook catches you with a strong arm around your waist and scoffs at you.

“So fucking clumsy,” He rolls his eyes and you ignore him.

“You gonna tell Sora that her date was a dickhead with a micropenis,” Jungkook asks bluntly. You laugh (really, it sounds like a snort).

“That’s mean,” You mutter, “I can’t confirm or deny that claim. I guess I’ll text her later tonight…”

The truth was, Jungkook knew of Yunho. He was all stiff suits, slicked back hair, polite, prim and proper with a disgusting self-satisfied smirk that seemed to always be on his irritating face. The kind of guy with a five, ten, fifteen year plan. Probably a trust fund baby with retirement funds already squared away. Every single small thing planned out, right down to the detail with no room for veering off of the path.

It makes Jungkook question Sora’s agenda when it comes to you. Can your supposed best friend not know you to this degree?

Everything that makes Jungkook roll his eyes. Initially, he would’ve thought that that was your type. The kind of person that checks all of the boxes on paper. But he’s beginning to realize that maybe he doesn’t know you as well as he thought.

Why would Sora set you up with someone who stood you up?

If he had been quietly seething when he heard from Hoseok and Yoongi that Sora had set this date doomed to fail up for you, that was his business. Jimin and Taehyung took pity on him (after a few minutes of making fun of him), and had suggested he call you. He almost felt like Sora was doing this to spite him- ever since she caught him checking you out all those months ago, she’s had it out for him.

God, he hates her. Hates her judgemental eyes, the way she sticks her nose where she doesn’t belong. The way she makes you feel so small and manipulates you into her own bidding, and you don’t even realize it. He wishes you would.

All Jungkook knows is that he likes your smile, he likes hearing the intonations of your voice, and he likes the way your legs look in that one skirt he had seen you wear when he had seen you with Yoongi and Hoseok.

All he knows is that he likes you the most like this- your guard down, your eyes wide and shining at him. He can pretend that your eyes shine for him, for now.

After all, as Sora had so eloquently screamed at him- you’d never go for a guy like him. So he’s content with this.

But you surprise him when you gently ask him to come upstairs to your apartment once he walks you home. You tell him that it’s late, that he’s welcome to stay the night on your couch if he wants to.

(You nervously stammer a few times and scratch the back of your neck bashfully, but the offer is there.)

In the end, Jungkook declines, not wanting to cross a line with you that hardly exists. You tilt your head to the side in confusion with a slight pout but nod in understanding.

“Then wait here until your Uber arrives,” You say, handing him a glass of water.

So he does, toeing his shoes off as you welcome him inside. If Jungkook notices your nerves (you genuinely can’t remember the last time you had a man who wasn’t Yoongi or Hobi in your apartment), he says nothing. But he notices your not so sly glances his way, lingering on his eyes, his arms, his thighs.

Jungkook smirks to himself- he thinks your best friend knows nothing about you and what kind of person you would be into.

“Nice place,” Jungkook nods, glancing around your cozy condo.

“Thanks, I guess,” You roll your eyes and gesture for him to sit on the couch. Every inch of your apartment that he can see is covered by little notes of you in the mix of pastel and dark colors- the throw pillows, the coffee table, the television stand, the small record player that sits in the corner of your living room.

“Maybe you’ll invite me over, some other time, huh?” Jungkook murmurs. He thumbs your cheek and it takes every ounce of you to meet his hooded eyes. Your breath hitches, the sound loud in your ears, as you lean into the heat of his thumb.

“Jungkook,” You mumble, “Thank you. For hanging out with me after a shitty evening. I… I had fun.”

“I had fun, too,” Jungkook says honestly. You’re a little mesmerized by the shine and sparkle of his eyes. “We should do it again sometime, baby.”

With that, he leaves- just as he sees the flabbergasted expression on your face. It’s one he’s become accustomed to as of late. When you wave your fingers at him to say goodbye, he shoots you a wink and a smirk.

To his surprise, you blow him a kiss before closing the door in a hurry.

tags: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

MoM tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe

[tigerdrop]

in lieu of doing more strenuous hand-based activities heres the Dogboy Gordon In Heat Megamix ive been talking about. i wrote this over the course of a couple months in an effort to feel okay about writing horny shit again and i only just realized there are nearly 6 thousand words here. and they only really fuck for like 10% of that

ta-dah

ive thought a lot about gordon being stuck back at gordonhouse after getting kicked out of barneyhouse. i think its ripe for a lot of pining. (and yes, he is pining over the guy hes actively banging. hes being a big mopey idiot over the fact that he doesnt get to have his fuckbuddy around 24/7.) absence makes the heart grow fonder or whatever and gordons already at a baseline of "wheres benrey. wheres benrey"......and now i am about to turn it up to 11

so lets say......gordons starting to feel weirdly under the weather. sweaty and irritable and tired. hes holing himself up in his room a lot, wrapping himself up in blankets to fight off a chill and a sniffliness that wont go away. and hes gettin awfully moody, too. real fuckin testy. starting shit with freemind for no reason and snapping at og gordon like hes a teenager. and......hes nesting, almost, or at least, gathering up a whole bunch of blankets and pillows and anything that smells vaguely like benrey. (hes not really aware hes doing this last thing.)

basically, long story short, feetman is fucked up. hes pathetic. hes being a huge bitch. at least og gordon feels vaguely sorry for him, and expresses this by way of observing him and trying to treat it. for science. its better than freemind, who just loudly complains about him being a huge bitch and reeking up the place. theres something weird coming from vr gordons corner of the house.....a musky, heady, hormonal kind of thing that makes freemind act simultaneously territorial and irritable and more lascivious than normal. and that also piques og gordons attention, because having both of them be wound up little freaks at the same time is enough to make even the most resilient person pull their hair out

now gordon primes got his suspicions as to whats going on, but hes not gonna tell vr gordon that he suspects hes going into heat. that would compromise the experiment, and all that. so poor gordons just going thru all this shit not knowing what in the fuck is wrong with him and getting more worked up and irritable about it by the day. hes convinced that hes just got the flu, or something......except, uh, haha, jesus christ he is horny all the FUCKING TIME

he doesnt get it! he feels like shit all the time, so why is he constantly fighting off boners and having weird wet dreams and thinking about-- well. his fucking boyfriend, he guesses. (are they boyfriends?? he doesnt know. he gets a weird, sharp pang when he thinks about them not being boyfriends, at this point, but its not like theyve ever talked about it!) gordons half-convinced that hes just losing his mind from being stuck inside all the time and he really just wants to see benrey again. its, like, all he thinks about. (see? hes losing it. theres the proof.)

the sucks thing for everybody else is that gordon is also Extremely Vocal about how shitty he feels and how much he wishes he didnt feel shitty so he could go see benrey and how much he cant stand benrey for not being able to read his mind and come over when he feels bad. eventually freemind gets so sick of his shit that he decides to cut out the middleman and get benrey involved directly. "come take care of your fucking dog before i call the aspca! animal neglect is a crime, asshole!"

(if pressed, freemind would adamantly reject the idea that hes being nice to gordon. but on some level, hes kinda sympathetic. the guys clearly miserable, and he just keeps asking for the same fucking thing. might as well humor him to shut him up.)

vr gordon is completely unaware of these machinations, however. hes just holed up in his room trying to work out what makes him feel better because, uhh, powerade isnt helping

jacking off doesnt do a whole lot for him anymore. like, it feels good, but its not very satisfying. gordon just ends up feeling more restless than anything afterward. and hes always stupid horny. more blankets. a box fan. less blankets. sleeping with one of benreys shirts pressed up to his face. grinding into his pillow when he wakes up hard from yet another weird dream. theyre all a little helpful, and he feels like hes working towards the right thing, somehow, but its never really enough to take the edge off

and then.....he tries......jerking off more. especially when he realizes that its bizarrely soothing to do so while he can smell benrey up close and personal on that stupid shirt of his. better still when he rolls onto his side.....and then his stomach.......rocking his hips into the mattress until he gets the idea to lift his hips a little. and......oh. cool. something kind of......clicks. in his head. as he raises his hips higher while he keeps his arms wrapped around a pillow and benreys shirt jammed against his nose. hes got that lil moment of realization that this is good, actually. this feels like a good move. and its making some of that discomfort melt away

and gordon thinks about.....how it felt. earlier. when they were with barmey. and benrey had him just like this, ass up, face down, and was spreading him apart and licking him open and making him submit and he groans so fucking hard that embarassment just rips through him like lightning. but his tail starting to wag a little faster.....electricity shooting through his belly......and he cant help but wonder. what if benrey had kept going? pulled back and-- maybe, replaced his tongue with his fingers, one at a time, curling them inside him and telling him how well hes behaving and-- and his dick throbs, hard, and gordon realizes he wants fingers inside of himself right fucking now, thank you, hes not fully certain how to accomplish it be he is going to fucking try

(sigh) so my guy figures out about the old fingers in the ass trick. and i need you to understand that i am fully convinced that this is one of those guys who has an uproarious reaction to getting fingers in his ass. mr repressed and uptight over here doesnt really get what the big deal is until he gets braver and pushes a little deeper and hes rock hard in an instant, goodbye, just like everybodys favorite creative writing exercise

and this is what he decides to do for a solid day or two without leaving his room, because, honestly, this is awesome. and the longer he spends jerking off the less time he spends stressing about the fact that his imaginations getting really vivid, here. sure, like, hes no stranger to weird dreams even before this, but this is the first time hes really letting his mind run wild and this dude is nonstop thinking about being bred and gordon still has no fucking idea that hes in heat. doesnt even occur to him

unfortunately this also does not solve his problems but at least it feels baller and it keeps him occupied. also, unfortunately, the increased rate of jerking off is causing a serious uptick in Dog Smells, the effect of which is turning freemind into a nightmare. its just not good vibes in this house. enter: benrey

now i need you to understand that when these two meet up again i want gordon to get Emotional. think about how genuinely excited he gets to see some of his pals in canon. the like......excitement and disbelief when benrey shows up outside his window throwing rocks at it before noclipping in. he forgets to even act pissed off at first. i think it would be super fucking cute for him to drop the game for a moment just out of shock, basically. his tails waggin, his ears are perked up, and hed probably tackle benrey to the ground if he wasnt also a sweaty, trembling mess whos been holed up in his room for days.

and benrey has No Fucking Idea what he has walked in on here. as far as benrey knows, freemind just demanded he get over there and take care of his dog.

(INTERLUDE: here is the part where i gin up a freemind POV of this exact scene. b/c i am out of my fucking mind

so. i had the thought of a freemind POV chapter where hes spying on gordon and benrey.....because. gordons in heat. ive talked about that scenario before too (literally so many FUCKING times okay i just need this dude to have the uncontrollable urge to be bred like a little bitch! and for benrey to take pity on him and make him feel better by nutting in him literally as many times as is physically possible!!!)

but i wanna manifest it in this specific way: from an outside perspective. voyeurism is great and also i have a one track mind and basically the only time i traffic in Other Guys in this fandom anymore is as a participant in gordon and benreys horse shit. Im not apologizing for this

lets say.....vr gordons behavior has been getting worse and worse for "unknown reasons" and freeman prime just sees it as a key observational opportunity for his research. while freeminds getting really irritated at how much its cutting into his normal way of life. for one thing, vr gordons room reeks, and he cant even escape it in his own room! and its turning him into a feisty, aggressive, and loud son of a bitch. but he cant even resolve it in his usual fashion at this point (baiting vr gordon into another competition/fuckfest) b/c gordons being a little sadsack holed up in his room and doesnt wanna play

but also.....he kinda just feels bad for the guy at a certain point. hes clearly really miserable and looks downright ill and all hes asking for is to see his boytoy again. (gordons convinced that hes dying, and feels the need to dramatically speak to benrey one last time before he croaks.) so freemind decides, in all his benevolence, to go over gordon primes head and drag the guy over there anyway. (with machinations, not his literal bare hands. what is he, a caveman?) he reasons that itll be a good opportunity to twist gordons arm into groveling at his feet later

and he spies on the two of them in gordons room.....why? idk. possibly something to do with investigating this relationship between a gordon and a barney that he had yet to fully analyze. tl;dr he gets trapped in their closet for a remix of that one barmey voyeurism chapter b/c why the fuck not

i just.....i dont know.....i think theres something really charming about a 3rd party not being able to fully make out what theyre saying or doing but piecing things together anyway.....like benreys weirdly soft tone of voice when hes talking to a super agitated gordon. as far as any of them know, hes not really like that. he either sounds bored or smug, but either way, its usually straight-up antagonistic

it would make freemind bristle to hear it b/c its almost a mocking tone, but.....it makes gordons shoulders drop and gets him to let go of some of that tension and thats probably fascinating to watch. literally soothing him like a stressed out dog, huh. smoothing back his hair and murmuring things in a low, even tone that freeminds enhanced hearing still isnt good enough to make out. (the guy mumbles, okay? he needs a fucking toastmasters meetup.)

it would equal parts horrify and fascinate freemind, in my onion. watching a version of himself fall that hard into the loyal pet role.....its pathetic! for all that gordon goes on about not being a slave to his instinct or whatever, he sure is doing a bad job of acting like it! its like watching himself, but worse.

and benreys having to soothe him like a startled animal b/c he doesnt even know whats wrong with himself, but theres something thick enough on the air that even benrey can smell it, and hes taking some stabs at the dark. especially with how charged some of the shit gordons saying is......"i cant fucking take it anymore", "you smell so good", "i dont know whats wrong with me, man, my dick hasnt gone down for days and im pretty sure i need a doctor-- no, a real one, not the other gor-- NOT a vet, JESUS"

and the whole time.....freeminds peeking from behind a closet door. watching them devolve from outright hostility into "gordon climbing into benreys lap and shoving one of benreys hands up his shirt and demanding that he fucking touch him already"

normally i dont think freemind would be averse to a little bit of voyeurism, here. if it was anybody else, hed probably at least engage in a little heavy petting. but this is getting weird, man. he cant shake the uncanny feeling that this is something too intimate for him to be watching. for one thing, gordons whimpering like a goddamn dog just from a little necking, and for two, hes never really been the kind of guy to watch people make out for 15 minutes before they get to the good stuff

its just kind of unsettling how much these two clearly really, really like each other at this point. its not like watching gordon prime give vr gordon a handjob as part of a "test". freemind expected more of a hatefuck kind of deal out of these two, what with how often gordons normally going on about how much he hates the guy, what a pain in the ass benrey is, how he just wishes benrey would stop jerking him around.....etc. freemind could shit himself right now. that lying bitch!

i imagine its also kind of painful, on a personal level, for him to watch this borderline-sappy shit. he cant even fathom being on the receiving end of that behavior, let alone from......well. theyve all got their barneys, right? and gordon primes basically doomed himself to incel status b/c he wont nut up and do anything about it. freemind just assumed they were all in the same boat: cursed to casual sex with their roommates/clones, forever, and unable to achieve any kind of intimacy b/c all 3 gordons are fucked up in the exact same way. since theyre all just diff flavors of the same fucking guy, right?

well, theres the evidence that hes wrong. and that vr gordons better than him, somehow. thats gotta suck, bro

anyway then he watches vr gordon get railed in the ass a bunch and jerks off anyway b/c its still hot. see ya)

“take care of your dog”. huh. hes got no clue what that means but, yknow, he does kinda miss his dog. hasnt seen gordon in awhile. and he immediately comments "wow. you look fucked up" in as blunt and unsympathetic a way as possible. but gordons so far gone that he cant even work up a good anger about it. he is pretty fucked up, man. and benrey sits on the bed and slaps his forehead with a palm to take his temperature (and that gets gordon to bitch at him, finally, that thats not how you do it, asshole) and judges that, uh, he is hot. in his expert opinion

and thats when gordon kinda grabs his sleeve and tugs it and starts tryin to say something. hes really bad at it, because he is having to perform the mortifying task of Owning Up To It, but eventually he manages to grind out that he needs benrey to touch him, please. just pet him. something. he feels really bad and he just needs benrey to scratch his fucking ears. this is the most gordon can cop to in one go, and it is such a sad struggle to watch, but benreys caught off guard by it and he feels weirdly bad for gordon upon hearing it so  hes just like "whoa, okay" when gordon tugs his hand to his head

gordon groans the moment his fingernails start scratching behind the ears and digging into his scalp. even just that much feels really fucking good. its comforting, for one thing, and its benrey, for another, and the physical touch feels so fucking good right now that goosebumps are crawling down his neck. gordon cant help but lean against benrey and bury his head in the crook of his shoulder. he wants to hide his face from scrutiny and he wants to get closer but he doesnt know how to say what his fucking problem is

and benreys weirdly quiet. just kinda mumbling and shushing him intermittently, awkward and not sure what to do b/c this is a level of intimacy he was not expecting but gordons sure is responding nicely to a second hand in his hair

so having both of benreys hands scratching at his scalp is really getting to gordon. hes scritchin behind the ears and gordons tails wagging at a mile a minute. the feelings making goosebumps race down his neck and arms. he starts kind of mumbling something into benreys shoulder, how hes been feeling so fucked up lately, and he squirms a little closer. hes not really aiming for anywhere in particular but every neuron thats firing in him right now is telling him to get closer. make contact. he missed the fucking guy, what can he say.

and one of benreys hands......slips down to gordons face. his jaw. a thumb pushing into that soft little divot between his jaw and neck, like hes trying to push up into gordons fucking teeth. its weird and bizarrely intrusive, but benreys hand is broad and warm and gordon leans into it anyway, groaning with relief. its not like its not doing anything for him. kind of the opposite, actually. then he palms at gordons neck, and gordon starts breathing harder. he can feel his heartbeat rabbit-fast, pushing against benreys skin (and theres no way benrey isnt feeling that, too).

benrey eyes are lidded and his breaths starting to get heavier, too. naturally, yknow, since gordons practically draped over him right now, melting all the more the longer benrey keeps petting him. oxytocin is crazy, man, especially when a guys in the full throes of some kind of chemical meltdown of the glands. gordons eyes are screwed shut, tail thumping furiously against the bed, and hes panting at benreys neck like hes a fucking dog.  he just doesnt know how to articulate what the fuck his problem is

benrey smells insanely good to him right now, and gordon just blurts that out. benrey gives him some shit for it, but when gordon only makes a weird noise in response and fists his hands in benreys hoodie, it makes him shut up real quick. hes squeezing out words about feeling like he needs something, but its clearly a fucking effort. its almost pitiful

so. gordons crawled right into benreys lap, too impatient after days and days of feeling like this (you know, being in heat, in so many words). hes been pounding off like crazy, that brand new collar of his strapped to his neck nearly every time b/c hes that desperate to feel… well. *benrey*. he cant fucking jerk off to thoughts of anything else - porn doesnt do it for him, and his fantasies slip right back to the same thing every single time. its frustrating! hes bisexual, for gods sake! its not like hes normally immune to the wiles of the Phat Ass White Girl, but lately he just keeps ending up on his hands and knees and whining benreys name into his pillow and he couldnt focus on a girls rack if he tried

point being. hes being awfully fucking demanding. (and also, hes wearing the collar *right fucking now)*. he shoves benreys hand up his shirt and shivers the moment he makes contact with gordons burning-hot flesh. and hes demanding that benrey touch him already, jesus, hes losing his mind! and benreys just crooning at him, “bossy, huh,” but hes scritching gordons ears and palming at his side and nosing at gordons neck and gordon starts to feel like hes melting into it. his protests at being talked down to are perfunctory at best

benrey licks a stripe up gordons neck and starts muttering his stupid horseshit right in gordons ear and it makes gordon clutch his shoulders so tight, claws digging into the meat of him. benreys kind of into it, though, and it just makes him laugh, low and harsh and right in gordons ear. that just makes gordons problem worse. he lets out quiet, nasal whines on every exhale, like a literal fucking dog.

he starts teasing, like, “haha, you’re *gagging* for it, bro,” but gordon doesnt respond with the defensiveness he expects. instead, its like opening a floodgate - he is, hes fucking *desperate*, okay, his dick hasnt gone down in days and he wants benrey so bad he cant see straight and he cant stop thinking about him and all of this comes tumbling out of him at once. gordons trying to press himself as close to benrey as he can physically get, legs straddling benreys lap and arms clutched tight around his back. and when benrey prods a little more, tells gordon to say what hes been thinkin about, gordon starts to pant, squeezing his eyes shut. but he cant bring himself to do anything more than choke and stutter on the words

hes half-hard in his underwear already (and, lets be be clear, he was only in boxer briefs and a tank top to begin with. hes sweating buckets and its the least amount of clothing he could get away with wearing around the house) and his tails thumping a mile a minute and hes so far gone, just from benrey talking down to him and kissing his neck and scratching his ears. but hes not budging yet, so benrey slides that hand on his ears over to his ponytail and *yanks*. tells him, “speak.” gordons dick twitches rapidly, and he lets out a sharp sound, and he finally says it: he needs benrey to *fuck* him, jesus

benrey lets out a harsh breath at that. “yeah? thats what puppy wants?” and the nickname should blister him, make him feel to embarrassed to continue, but gordons too desperate to care. he just starts spewing a litany of “god yes”s and “please”s. hes getting harder and harder, pressed up against benreys belly, and benrey can *feel* it. “good boy,” he mutters, and those claws dig harder, that panting gets louder and harsher

he slips a hand around to gordons back, rubbing slowly for a moment as if to soothe him, and then slides it under the back of gordons boxers. and lower still. starts rubbing at gordons hole. that gets a quiet “oh god” out of gordon.

gordon cant help himself - he rocks forward against benrey, just a little, rubbing his bulge against what he realizes is benreys *extremely* hard dick in his sweatpants. hes not the only one whos got it bad. but he *is* the only one whispering, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” as benrey pushes a little further, makes as if hes about to breach gordon dry. the poor guys so needy that he probably wouldnt even argue!

but benrey just stares at him, wide eyed and flushed, mouth hanging open a little. gordons so hot for this that it surprises the both of them.

anyway after some boring position finagling benrey coaxes gordon onto his hands and knees, running a broad hand down gordons shaking back. and he pulls back gordons tail, exposing him. its so fucking humiliating - gordons got his face buried in a pillow, and his ass in the air, and hes never felt so *vulnerable* before. he wants to argue, he wants to lift his head and look back to make sure that everythings, like, okay back there - benreys staring at his entire asshole, okay, and he wasnt exactly anticipating benrey making a house call to fuck him in the ass - but every time he lifts his head, or starts to say something neurotic about it, benrey chides him about it. clicks his tongue. tells him, “hey. dogs dont talk” or “i said *bow*, bro”.

for all his insisting that hes a real guy, that hes not just a dog, gordons feeling less and less like a human and more like something in thrall to his instincts. the condescension rankles like it always does, but doing what benrey tells him to feels good. feels natural. presenting himself like this feels like what hes *supposed* to do. it doesnt stop him from running his mouth entirely, but it helps to mitigate some of the embarrassment.

and then… benrey *licks*. gordon tenses and gasps. he doesnt know how benrey can stand it, its gotta be, like, unhygienic! but that didnt scare him off the last time they tried this, and its not like gordon hasnt thought about it since. hes thought about it a lot, actually. but hes been too neurotic to ask for it. benreys not stupid, though. hes a good dog owner (at least, so he thinks) and hes gonna take care of his dog. so he licks again, and again, pressing a little harder against gordons hole on each pass with the broad side of his tongue until he dares to breach it with the tip.

gordons rock hard again in an instant. his dick hangs between his legs and drips onto the sheets. he digs his fingers into the pillow now, tearing holes in its surface with those sharp nails of his, and he makes embarrassingly high noises that he muffles into into the pillow, too. hes tense, hes so fucking tense, he should be clamping down and making benreys task really fucking hard, but theres bright pink sweet voice dripping from his hole and benreys rubbing the side of his thigh in an effort to soothe him and both of these things work in tandem to get him to relax. and benrey works his tongue in further, further than a human ought to.

the tip was one thing, but it gets wider as benrey pushes it in, and its just as good as it was before - better, even, because now its just the two of them, just a master and his dog, and benreys the only one he wants to see him like this. bent over and whimpering. he cant— he cant stomach the thought of anybody else doing this to him. hell, there was a point once where the idea of stomaching *benrey* doing this to him would have made him laugh. but here he is. benreys fucking him open with his tongue and pressing against something thats making him see stars and gordon just wants *more*. he says it so sweet, too, voice growing hoarse and raw as he begs benrey to just fucking do it already, he doesnt wanna come like this!

gordon gets so worked up and emotional about it that benrey takes the time to scratch behind his ears again, shushing him and telling him to chill. benreys got him. hes been a good dog, and good dogs get treats. hearing the words “good dog” makes gordons entire body flush. thats all he wants, really. he wants to be a good dog. he wants to be *told*. he blurts out, “oh my god— say it again,” and benreys like, “huh? say what? youre gonna have to be more specific,” clicking the last syllable. it makes all the hairs on gordons head rise and prickle with shame. the best he can do is mumble it into his pillow.

benrey hears it, though, and tugs at gordons collar from behind, just enough to raise his head. “whassat? you want me to call you a good boy?” gordon cant bring himself to answer that directly, but his stupid body betrays him by making him whine. jesus christ, yes, thats all he WANTS! he needs benrey to be good and nice to him for once in his fucking life and give him what he wants instead of taking, taking, taking! but benrey just tells him that hes gonna have to earn it. gonna have to be *real* good for him. gordon could fucking snarl at that, but benreys pulling back to rub his dick between gordons cheeks and against his hole and that shuts him up pretty fast because hes *so close* to getting what he wants and hes not about to fuck it up now by running his big dumb mouth

and then… he starts to push in. that sweet voice has loosened gordon up enough to take even benrey, who, uh, is definitely the bigger of the two, in that regard. he goes slow, uncharacteristically so, and gordons chest heaves with the force of how hard hes breathing. a quiet string of “oh god”s spills out of him as he tries to crane his neck back to watch. the head breaches him with a strange popping sensation, and benrey groans, loud, as the rest of him slides in with little resistance in comparison. “good,” he pants in turn, “youre takin it so good,” and—

and gordon comes, in weak, aborted spurts. it snuck up on him. he clenches so fucking tightly that it winds benrey a little. he breathes out, “whoa. did you—” but gordon just begs him to shut up, keep going, hes not— hes not done yet, its always like this, its not *enough*. his dick barely even flags afterward, it just hangs there, achingly hard and dripping with cum. benrey cant even find it in himself to make fun of him. he wants it so fucking bad, doesnt he? and he feels so good, so fucking tight and slick around benrey that the only thought running through his head is “gotta take care of my dog gotta fuck my best friend gotta nut in him and make him howl”. so he pushes himself alllll the way in until theyre pressed together, skin to skin.

then he starts to move. slow, careful thrusts, more for benreys benefit than gordons. if hes not careful, hes gonna blow his load, right then and there, and hes trying to make it good for gordon, too, okay? unlike *some* of them, hes not gonna bust in two minutes and then spend the next half hour crying and trauma-dumping to the guy hes still got his dick inside of.

once he thinks hes got a grip, though, benrey starts fucking him in earnest, and that changes gordons vocalizations from weak little whimpers into something louder. less restrained. hes given up any pretense of being quiet so that his other selves dont hear that hes snuck his boytoy into his room. just loud, wordless moans on each thrust, initially muffled into the pillow but soon spilling into the wider room when he turns his head to catch his breath. the only words hes managing are “oh god” and “please” and “benrey, benrey, *benrey*”, and benrey just responds to him like, “yeah? thats good? fuuuck, bro, so good for me,” all short of breath and barely able to speak himself

he wants to see gordons face. he *needs* to see gordons face. needs to see what hes doing to him, needs to see that cute fuckin blush of his. so he tugs on gordons collar again, bringing him to his hands and knees properly instead of that bowing position. and then further still - pulls him back so that benreys on his knees, and gordons on his knees in turn, on his lap, cock still buried inside of him and fucking him in short, hurried thrusts. “paws up,” benrey tells him, and gordon does it. instantly. no resistance. just folds them at his chest like a real dog would.

“whos a good boy?” benrey croons, right in his ear again. gordon gasps, “i-i am!”

“yeah? youre a good boy?” nod, wail. “whose— whose good boy are you?”

and gordon chokes on his response. he cant say it, he *cant*, he doesnt want to be benreys but he does, he *does*. he doesnt want to be benreys because its not fucking fair! he cares so fucking much! so much more than benrey does, it feels like, obsessing over the guy like hes wrapped thorny vines all around gordons heart and he cant so much as shift in his seat without feeling the tug and the ache and thinking of benrey again. and benrey doesnt care, he never fucking cares, except—

except he showed up at gordons house, in his room. without even being asked. like he knew something was wrong. and he— hes always talking to gordon, shooting him stupid texts just to make him laugh. scheduling *date nights* for them. date nights where, yeah, maybe they couldnt see each other in person, and maybe they always end in some kind of depraved sexual act, but its not like gordons not into it. hes frighteningly into it, actually. and hes *so* into hearing benreys voice, low and crooning, right in his ear, and seeing him lean on an elbow and smile at him afterward. its— its practically genuine. and benreys always making excuses to talk with him, do things with him, watch stupid fucking movies that only gordon cares about and stream with him on twitch to help boost his subscriber count and—

and—

oh god. maybe he *does* care. that might be more terrifying than the alternative.

then benrey yanks the collar again. presses the whole of gordons back against his front in one hot, unbroken line. and asks, “i said, whose good boy are you, bro? *speak.*”

“benrey,” he blurts out, a ragged moan, “d-dont make me sa-AY it, oh god—”

“no?” benrey stills suddenly. his hands keep gordon stuck in place, unable to move or bounce or feel benrey shift inside of him. “thats, uh… thats too bad, friend. this trains for good boys only. good dogs go to heaven 2. no bad dogs allowed. gonna have to, uhh, escort you off—”

“im not a bad dog!”

“i dunno, gordo. bein’ kind of, uh… disobedient.”

(sorry. thats all i got . byeeee)

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 280: I Am Red Riot

Previously on BnHA: The pro heroes over at Gunga Mountain struggled against Gigantomachia and the League until finally Midnight was all, “fuck it, let’s just put the kids in charge.” Momo immediately got to work organizing a sophisticated counteroffensive involving an exploding swamp, a bunch of sedative cans, and a massive coordinated team attack. I gotta tell you guys, it’s really something to watch a large-scale group attack in which all of the team members are actually competent. I don’t know what Japan put in the water when all these sixteen-year-olds were growing up, but that shit has paid off big time, and basically the only reason Machia hasn’t gone down yet is because he cheated and was all “sneeze” and the kids all got blown away because they are little and because he is really, really big. Anyway so then Dabi set the forest on fire because he loves doing that, and the chapter ended with Mina using her Acid Man attack to make herself FUCKIN’ FIREPROOF so she could charge through the woods ready to save the day and stuff!

Today on BnHA: Mina launches herself straight at Machia like the beautiful corrosive wild child she is, but then everything goes to shit when she recognizes him from that one time she almost got murdered while giving a strange man directions. Just when it’s looking like she might get killed for real this time, KIRISHIMA SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY AND SHOVES HER TO SAFETY AND IS ALL “BOTTOMS UP” AND HEAVES A LITERAL CAN OF WHOOPASS RIGHT IN MACHIA’S MOUTH. At this point the grown-ups are all “oh wow look at that, time for us to take over for you kids now, don’t worry we’ve got it all under control” because Oh Those Wacky Pros and all that, but at least Majestic finally deigns to show his face so that’s a plus! The chapter ends with us cutting back to the Jakku battle, where Tomura is curled up in a little ball all “curse you heroes, how dare you [checks notes] save people all the time”, which is a real take and a half. Anyway so things are looking up, which can only mean everyone is about to die. That’s how it works, right. Shit.

HOLY SHIT LOL

THIS IS MINA. SHE’S REALLY COOL AND SHE CAN MELT PEOPLE. um, the hell kind of tagline is that?? holy fucking shit?? “melt and succumb”?? IS THE SUCCUMB PART REALLY NECESSARY. IS THAT NOT ALREADY IMPLIED. it’s like saying “die and then perish”, which actually sounds really badass and I’m about to make it my new go-to threat actually so you know what never mind. where the fuck were we anyway

“IS EVERYONE SAFE” some absurdly bad-at-gauging-situations kid from class B is yelling while the forest is on fire and all the kids are recovering from having been catapulted fifty miles by King Dodongo’s windy yeet breath. of course they are safe, sweet child. of course everyone is absolutely fine, why the fuck would they possibly not be safe after something like that

KAMINARI NOOO MY POOR SWEET BABY

AT LEAST HE’S STILL CONSCIOUS ENOUGH TO MAKE STUPID JOKES. holy shit this baby got concussed to hell and back and then Machia turned him and the others into precipitation and he wasn’t in any kind of state to even try to land safely, I hope to god someone caught him

Sero is all “is there anyone still in range!” and damn, I like that he’s taking charge and trying to regain their momentum. he is so criminally underrated. I feel like he’s in the top six or seven of class 1-A kids who I would most trust to take charge. which is very high praise because that class has a lot of charge-taking kids

SPEAKING OF

it “probably” can’t get through her acid, she says. my god. sometimes the spirit of Plus Ultra just takes ahold of these kids and it’s like, I want to ruffle their hair proudly and then grab them by the shoulders and shake them vigorously because WHERE EVEN IS YOUR SELF-PRESERVATION WHY DO NONE OF YOU HAVE IT GODDAMMIT AIZAWA REALLY SHOULD HAVE EXPELLED YOU GUYS AFTER ALL

man. and yet I really do love this “be the one who can do it” stuff. what a heroic fucking attitude dfjfklks. I’ll just go put on my humongous sandwich board that reads GIANT FUCKING HYPOCRITE and go stand in the corner

damn it this week’s scan is annoyingly dark, it’s really hard to tell what’s going on but it looks like the pros are attacking Machia and the League at long last. way to go guys it only took you seven years but you finally hopped to it

MINA WHY IS THE ACID COMING OFF OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. PUT IT BACK!!!

I KNOW SHE’S NOT GONNA DIE DAMMIT BUT AHHHHH AHHHHHH AHHHHHHHH

okay what the hell is up with these weird zen proverbs though

“your fear stricken heart”, “the shortest path”, what the fuck even is this. whose thoughts are these. normally these translations are honestly decent enough but I gotta say this time around I’m totally being thrown for a loop lmao

(ETA: FYI I’m only just now realizing that he was saying the shortest path to Master, as in Tomura, not “master” as in to master something fjkldjskf lol some delayed reading comprehension there. so basically he’s just bitching about how annoying these little “flies” are proving to be.)

JESUS CHRIST

okay is it just me, or is Gigantomachia suddenly showing intelligence in his eyes instead of mindless animal instinct the single most pants-shitting thing you’ve ever seen?!! holy shit. the way he just LOOKS at her out of nowhere all of a sudden?? holy fucking shit DO NOT HURT MT. LADY OH MY GOD I’M FREAKING THE FUCK OUT. AND DON’T YOU DARE HURT MINA EITHER!! JUST FUCKING DIE AND PERISH

but also though, is that recognition in Mina’s eyes?? because even though this dude is 80 feet tall now, her encounter with him a couple years back had to have been one of the more memorable experiences of her young life. damn I was wondering when this would finally come into play

OKAY YES THE NEXT PAGE IS A FLASHBACK OH SHIT

this has nothing to do with anything but Mina just has the prettiest hair, btw, and this “just woke up covered in acid” look is a particularly good one on her. it looks so soft and fluffy, like damn. this is like Shouto-hair-billowing-in-the-wind levels of pretty here

NOOOOO

oh my god holy shit?! putting her back in the school uniform to show the slip in her mentality is a PUNK MOVE, HORIKOSHI, and I respect the shit out of you for it you manipulative bastard. goddammit. bracing myself for the incoming wave of Mina feels... here they come... they’re a lot... let’s see if I can latch on to anything I can actually figure out how to describe in words

okay well here’s one, my respect for Mina’s bravery just went up like a thousand percent in this instant, because now we know this was actually such a traumatizing event for her that hearing Machia’s voice again years later immediately sent her into a full-blown flashback. she was that scared and yet she still stood up to him and didn’t hesitate. and now I’m remembering how her knees just buckled right afterwards, and just...

and this visual, though!! what a brutally effective way to show that in her mind she went right back to being that scared middle schooler again for a moment. god fucking damn. holy shit you guys is Kirishima fireproof because if he comes waltzing out of the woods next I don’t even know what I’m gonna do. lolo kids getting traumatized left and right this arc is fucking merciless

um eXCUSE ME!?!?!

YOU MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF SHIT LET GO OF HER RIGHT NOW OR I AM GONNA LOSE IT!!

THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!!

holy shit he could have fucking snapped her neck like that??! I don’t like this at ALL WHAT THE FUCK

OKAY SERIOUSLY

I’M GONNA NEED ANOTHER KID TO STEP IN HERE WITH A LAST MINUTE SAVE LIKE RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, OR I AM GOING TO THROW MY COMPUTER OFF A FUCKING CLIFF AND MOVE TO THE DESERT AND BECOME A HERMIT AND NEVER READ MANGA ON THE INTERNET AGAIN

OH THANK GOD

TODAY WE SPELL “REDEMPTION” K-I-R-I... ETC. THERE’S A LOT OF LETTERS BUT YOU GET THE DRIFT!!!

holy fucking shit y’all. I mean, it’s not like it came out of nowhere, like the setup could not have been more obvious, but let me assure you that none of the predictability lessened the actual impact of this moment in the SLIGHTEST. Horikoshi really wrote a flashback scene one hundred and thirty five chapters ago and planted it, watered it once a day, and patiently waited for THREE LONG YEARS until he could finally harvest the badass fruits of his labor in the midst of his most epic arc to date. I’m so fucking hyped I’ll even forgive him for sacrificing Mina’s big moment and having her get rescued, because it’s such a good reversal. he didn’t freeze up this time. he promised himself he’d never freeze again and he didn’t and he saved her and god fucking damn. anyways so now Machia is going to treat him like a fucking action figure though but he’s a solid little dude he can take it hopefully

NO WHAT IS THIS!!! STOP KILLING MY MOOD!!!

she better not be dead!! SHE BETTER NOT FUCKING BE DEAD I WILL RUN MY PC THROUGH A PAPER SHREDDER AND GO AND LIVE ALONE WITH MY FEELS ON A MOUNTAIN IN TIBET

CHINTETSU!!

well we know he’s fireproof. another callback at the least expected of times lmao

so Tetsu’s all “yeah Kirishima’s not really all that fireproof but he totally ran over here anyway to save you. oh wait that probably wasn’t very comforting of me to say.” maybe that’s why it seems like he might not have actually said it out loud, now that I’m reading this over again. good call Tetsu

ARE YOU STANDING UP AND CASUALLY STRETCHING OUT YOUR BACK

I CAN’T EVEN BELIEVE HOW MUCH I HATE THIS GUY RIGHT NOW. WE’RE REACHING LEVELS OF HATRED RESERVED FOR NAZIS AND PEOPLE WHO WALK TOO SLOWLY IN FRONT OF ME IN A GROUP SHOULDER TO SHOULDER INSTEAD OF SINGLE FILE SO I CAN PASS IN FRONT OF THEM. YOU’RE A FUCKING TOURIST IN NYC YOU PIECE OF SHIT

lmao he’s just dropping this random hero person and letting him fall to his doom wheeeeee

remind me to leave all of the League of Villains’ texts on read for the foreseeable future. goddamn. I still love you guys but also, fuck you so damn hard

OHO A LIL RED SCALY BOI ISN’T DONE YET!!

real talk, just between you and me, I’ll lower my voice so that Kirishima can’t hear. so uh. we all agree that even if Kiri is fireproof and squishproof, that little can of tranquilizer juice technically shouldn’t have been, right? but we’re all going to hush and pretend like it was anyway for the sake of not spoiling his big moment. even though I am crossing my arms and tapping my chin with my finger while doubtfully glancing to the side

anyway here he goes!

YEAH KIRI GO GETTIM [stage whisper] there it is, in his pocket. should’ve burned. we won’t discuss it

OH FOR FUCK’S

TOGA YOU LITTLE WIENER BUT WHAT’S THIS ABOUT “MY HALF” NOW????

DID HE GRAB MINA’S MID-AIR?? IS HE REALLY REACHING INTO HIS BACK POCKET AND FUCKING UNZIPPING IT RIGHT NOW WHILE HOLDING ON TO NOTHING AND PRESUMABLY FALLING THROUGH THE AIR. DID A LITTLE BIT OF OCHAKO’S QUIRK RUB OFF ON YOU OR WHAT

OH SNAP SON HE REALLY DID THE THING HOLY SHIT???

AND TOKAGE FLEW OVER AND SAVED HIM AND NOW TANKS ARE SHOOTING AT MACHIA, LMAO WHAT IS THIS. MOMO HOW MANY GUNS DID YOU MAKE

Shouji standing there trying to be useful any way he can. are eyeballs really that much more effective if you make them the size of tennis balls and hold them up above your head. legit question, I don’t really know how eyes work

okay after 45 seconds of googling this my impression is that no, they are not. well good on you for giving it the old college try anyway though Shouji

oH MY GODLKDLK?!?!

DID SHE SAY WHAT I THOUGHT SHE SAID, DID SHE SAY MAJESTIC, ARE WE GONNA SEE MASJKESLTKCI DSFLKJL

oh my god he really is the Magic Man dude??? TIME TO DUST OFF MY INVENTORY OF ADVENTURE TIME QUOTES

(ETA: AHH FATGUM AND GANG ORCA ARE THERE TOO YESSSS!)

“that’s enough depending on some interns” oh, okay. now that they’ve done all your work for you. I see, I see

so now Gigantomachia is LITERALLY UNHINGING HIS JAW I can’t fucking believe this dude you guys. everything he does is just like, ARE YOU SERIOUS

please go to sleep already. thanks to you I have my keyboard set to capslock as the default for the duration of this chapter

ARE YOU SERIOUS YOU FUCKING WAITED UNTIL MAGIC FUCKING MAN SHOWED UP TO TEACH US MAGICAL LIFE LESSONS AND NOW YOU’RE CUTTING BACK TO THE TOMURA FIGHT?? WHY DO WE KEEP LETTING THIS MAN GET AWAY WITH THIS

oh my god you guys they really fucking did it

I guess that Howitzer slash fire punch combo really was that potent huh

anyway so now Endeavor is standing there making a big speech instead of reaching into Tomura’s pocket and taking the bullets that he doesn’t know about and shooting him with one asap. dammit Endeavor

aaaaand Tomura is firing back with the wisdom of Shimura Fucking Kotaro of all people

well you sure convinced me. damn I don’t know what I was thinking. heroes suck you guys. how dare they help other people all the time

so now he’s all “PERIOD, EXCLAMATION POINT!!”

take that Endeavor. you heard the man. it’s not destruction without conviction, as god as his witness he will have you know it is destruction WITH conviction. something something the great sage Shimura “I hurt my family for absolutely no reason at all, fuck this ‘helping others’ bullshit” Kotaro. I hope you packed your textbooks because you just got SCHOOLED. I hope the person who ordered you signed up for delivery notifications because you just got SENT. I HOPE YOU LIKE CAPITALISM BECAUSE YOU JUST GOT OWNED. I HOPE YOU CHOSE PAPER AND NOT SCISSORS BECAUSE YOU JUST GOT ROCKED

what an absolutely, unreservedly bizarre place to end the chapter lol. we’re really just done with this week, just like that. Majestic showed up and Gigantomachia opened his chin like a garage door and Tomura is all “you may have won the battle but you suck” while he buys time for Aizawa to suddenly sneeze or something so he can make his terrible comeback and continue Horikoshi’s Traumatize Every Kid in Class 1-A 2020 campaign. what an arc this is my friends. what an arc

[blackmissfrizzle]

No One Has To Know- Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Angel Reyes x black!reader

Summary: The reader gets a real graduation party.

Warnings: Smut

A/N: I finally got my Girls in the Hood inspired fic out! I hope yall enjoy!

Now this was a party. Your best friend, Bryce surprised you with a graduation party the pool party edition. The only thing missing was your boyfriend and his friends. They had club business to attend to that had them running late.

Aisha, a fellow graduate was complaining about how she didn’t know how to ride dick, so you gladly volunteered to show her. On que, Shake That Monkey came on and you laid Aisha on the lounge chair. Getting on top of her you began twerking on her.

Bounce that ass up and down to the floor

Shake that shit till you can't no more

Twerk that monkey, lemme see you get low

Freak that nigga till your shit get sore

Too busy twerking on your friend, you didn’t notice that Angel and his friends arrived. Angel couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Your ass on display, eating up your bikini bottoms, moving up and down to the beat. You were definitely riding him later on tonight.

“FUCK IT UP!” You heard Letty’s voice cheer you on.

Turning around you saw the young girl, surprised at how she got there. Her dad beat you to the punch to questioning her. “Leticia, what the fuck are you doing here?!”

You couldn’t pay too much attention to the argument because suddenly you were picked up from Aisha.

“Where’s the clothes at, mi dulce?” Angel asked, biting your ear. There were too many eyes on his girl. He’ll pull his gun if he had to, he just had to do it secretly to keep the mood right.

“This is a pool party, Angelito. Clothes are unnecessary. In fact, you got too many clothes on.” You turned to tug at the ends of his kutte.

“It’s because I knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands to yourself.” Angel joked, sliding his hand to grab your ass.

Bryce walked past the two of you and forced drinks into both of y’alls hands. Apparently, you were too sober for her. Just as you were about to comment about how good the drinks were your song came on. You and Bryce ran towards each other, hyping the other up as you screamed the lyrics together.

Fuck bein' good, I'm a bad bitch (Ah)

I'm sick of motherfuckers tryna tell me how to live (Fuck y'all))

Angel stood behind and just watched. He loved just watching you be carefree. The pressure of being the perfect daughter not weighing on you.

Jumping in Angel’s face you began singing the lyrics towards him, dancing along to the song.

In the mall with him, I'ma have a ball with him (Yeah, yeah, woah)

Somebody call Rihanna, I'ma buy some drawers with him

He fuckin' with Thee Stallion 'cause he into wild women (He love wild women)

Put them legs on his head, now he love tall women (Yeah, yeah, ah)

You'll never catch me callin' these niggas daddy (Nope)

Angel smacked your ass as a warning to tell you to quit your shit. On multiple occasions you’ve called him daddy and he wasn’t about to let you act like you didn’t just because you were singing some lyrics.

The little smack you got, prompted you to twerk on Angel. You never really had this opportunity before and now that you can you’re loving it. You wanted to show off Angel as your man.

I'm a hot girl, I do hot shit (I do hot shit)

Spend his income on my outfit (On my outfit)

I don't text quick 'cause I ain't thirsty (I ain't thirsty)

These bitches mad, mad, they wanna hurt me (Ah, ah)

While sipping on your drink, you looked over your shoulder all innocently like you weren’t just making your ass clap against Angel’s erection.

Yeah, he call me Patty Cake 'cause the way that ass shake (Yeah, yeah, ass shake)

I'ma make him eat me out while I'm watchin' anime (Wow, wow, anime)

Pussy like a Wild Fox, lookin' for a Sasuke (Yeah, yeah, ayy, yeah)

The friction of his clothes and you twerking on him made Angel’s hard on unbearable for him. He had to get a little taste to hold him over for the rest of the party. Picking you up he led you into the house.

“Angel! Where are we going?” You wrapped your arms around his neck to secure yourself.

“Somewhere I can watch that ass shake on my dick.” Angel found the nearest bathroom and set you down on the counter.

Kneeling before you he ran his nose against your core, making you wetter than you already were.

Tugging on his hair, you tilted his head so he could look at you. “I thought you wanted to see my ass shake?”

Untying your bottoms, Angel stuck two ring adorned fingers inside of you. “Yeah, I do but first I wanna feel your legs wrapped around my head. Is that okay with you, baby?”

“Fuck yes,” you moaned, enjoying the feel of Angel’s fingers stretching you out.

There was no teasing. Angel dived in, eating your pussy like it was his last meal. He knew how to get you to a quick orgasm, and he was pulling out all the stops to get you there.

And sure, you love the head he was giving you, but right now you wanted to cum all on his dick. “Baby please I need you inside of me.” You tried to push away from him, but instead he wrapped his arm around your waist tightly and pulled you closer to him.

Angel’s tongue was expertly switching between flicking and sucking on your clit while fucking you with his fingers. Once he applied more pressure to your clit and angling his fingers, you reached your peak, beating on his back from how explosive the orgasm was.

Standing up to his full height, his beard and lips glistened from your juices. Crooking your finger, you beckoned Angel to bend down so you could get a tiny taste. The taste of your essence mix with Angel was heavenly like none other.

While kissing him, you unbuckled his jeans and pulled them down with his boxer briefs just far enough for his cock to spring out. You only got a couple of strokes in before Angel stopped you.

“Who am I?” He asked, his hand around your throat, lips ghosting over yours, and dick a half an inch away from sheathing itself inside of you.

“Daddy,” you whimpered, trying to scoot closer to his dick.

Angel lightly slapped your face. “Don’t forget it and don’t you say something stupid like that again. I don’t give a fuck even if it’s in a song.” Angel referenced to your sing along to Megan.

“Yes Daddy.” Normally you would be a bratty little shit, but Angel fucking you was the only thing you could focus on.

After slipping on a condom and turning you to face the mirror, Angel rammed into, making you cum on the spot. He rested his head on your shoulder and kissed it right before he bit it. “Make a fucking doctor’s appointment and get on that birth control, because after today you’re only gonna be coming on my cock with nothing between us. Understand?”

You nodded your head in agreement. Angel didn’t care that you didn’t give him a verbal answer, he was too caught up in how tight you felt around him.

“Shit, I don’t care if you don’t get on birth control. I could fill you up and you can have my babies. Do you wanna have my babies, mi alma?” Angel whispered against your ear, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Fuck yes, Daddy.” You looked back at him and he saw the fire in your eyes. He knew right now you would let him rip the condom off and shoot all up inside of you. The selfish bastard in him wanted to, but he remembered that you’re still young and that y’all had plenty of time to make babies later, so he kept the condom on.

Angel grabbed you around the neck and flushed your back against his chest. “Congratulations, graduate. I fuckin’ love you, you know that, right?” He asked, his lips peppering down your cheek.

Reaching behind you palmed his face. “I do, Angel. I love you too.” The sounds of your sex contradicted the softness of your proclamation of love, but soon the softness was replaced with roughness as Angel ordered you to cum with him.

Bishop was pissed and nervous. Him along with Taza and Hank came to the party to drop off a present for you. He didn’t expect to hear you and Angel having sex and now he wanted to rip Angel’s head from his shoulders.

“Calmese,” Hank advised his friend and president.

“I know in my head that she’s grown, and I can’t tell her anything, but hearing Angel fucking defiling my little girl is driving me crazy.” Bishop had to be careful holding the gift. He was so agitated he almost wrinkled the bag.

Taza slapped him on the back. “It’s ok. You’re going through 24 years worth of parenting in less than a month.”

“What if she doesn’t like it?” Bishop asked, now worried about the present instead of you and Angel. Both Hank and Taza assured to their friend that you would love your gift. It would no doubt become useful and it had a secret personal touch to it.

Seeing the older Mayans at the party, you drugged Angel along to say hi. “Hey, guys! Thank you for coming.” You hugged each man.

“We’re just dropping by. This is a little too young for us.” Bishop joked, fiddling with the bag in his hand. “Anyway, this is for you.”

Eagerly, you took the bag from him. You weren’t expecting a gift from him. Removing the tissue paper, you discovered your own helmet. Even though you were scared to ride Angel’s bike, you knew one day you would, and you would need a helmet of your own.

Jumping into Bishop’s arms you thanked him profusely.

To have his daughter in his arms warmed his heart even if she didn’t know the truth. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

Angel couldn’t hold back the tinge of jealousy. Of all the girlfriends the Mayans ever had, none of them ever gotten a gift from Bishop, especially a gift that’s meant to be given from a boyfriend.

“Angel, can I talk to you for a bit?” Bishop asked, not even waiting for Angel to agree before walking off.

Once they were ducked off in a corner away from everyone else Angel spoke up. “What’s up, prez?”

In full and president authoritarian mode, Bishop warned Angel. “Respect her, you understand me? Keep your dirty shit in private.”

What the fuck was this, Angel thought. The only time Bishop gave any of them shit about screwing around was when they were in the clubhouse bathroom and someone needed to use it. Other than that it was jokes all around. Did this have something to do with you being the mayor’s daughter?

Angel’s rebuttal died on his tongue when he saw Bishop’s face. There was no arguing with him about this at all. “Got it, prez.” Angel nodded his head in agreement and then left in search of you, secretly wondering if his president had a thing for his girl.

Tags: @angrythingstarlight​ @briannab1234​ @starrynite7114​ @marvelmaree​ @thickemadame​ @chaneajoyyy​ @woahitslucyylu​

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Klaus x Powered Reader

Summary: Reader is part of the umbrella academy but came when they were 12 due to parents needing help for them, ya know controlling powers and whatnot. They can shapeshift into any animal and their senses are heightened n such.

Warnings: bloody, fighting bad guys, bit of Klaus fluff

You know that moment in a movie where they freeze frame and then the character says something like “you’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.”

Yeah with Klaus you have those moments more times then you could count. In fact, if you had a dollar for every time Klaus has gotten you into a freeze frame moment. (And you’ve thought about this often.)

You could probably afford a real nice apartment with actual food in its fridge. Instead of living at the Academy with some apples and Klaus’ latest alcoholic beverage.

But alas, here you are in a back alley as Klaus’ bodyguard waiting for some Italian mafia members to come get their money that he owes them. Well that’s what you’re assuming but Klaus insists they’re just some moody tough guys. Okay sure.

You watch Klaus as he paces back and forth in front of you counting his cash for about the 50th time in the past 10 minutes.

Klaus stops abruptly and turns to you with a smile, “You know what I love about you, Y/N, every time I think things could get worse I look at your pretty face and I know you got me.”

Sighing in knowing annoyance you look up at him, “Are you short.”

Klaus snorts, “No actually I’m pretty long.” He says with wink.

You look up to the sky trying not to crack, you couldn’t give him the satisfaction even if it was funny, not the time or place. Especially considering his dumbass is short some cash he definitely owes very soon.

You look over to Klaus again and raise an eyebrow.

“Alright how much?”

He twiddles is fingers while avoiding your curious gaze. “Oh you know...a couple hundred or so.”

“So that’s why I’m here, emotional support my ass”, You say rolling your eyes a bit amused nonetheless.

Klaus may be an idiot but he’s funny and kind and you love him. Also you do enjoy beating up gangsters or whoever these thugs of the hour are.

Folding your arms while giving Klaus a smirk you tell him, “Well your friends better get their asses here cause when they do. I’m gonna knock their teeth in for making us wait in this shit ally. I’ve been suppressing the urge to vomit for 10 minutes.”

He nods in agreement, glad you’re not about to rip him a new one for his latest antics.

“Wait, does it really smell that bad, I mean the dumpster is at the other end of the ally.” He says in confusion.

You put your hands on your hips glancing at the dumpster and then focusing on Klaus.

“I’ve got the whole animal kingdom inside me Klaus, I know you can kinda smell that dumpster from here, but listen. For me it’s 1000x worse and let me tell you it doesn’t smell like a bath and body works around here.”

Klaus laughs scratching the back of his head, “Right, right, sorry.”

Suddenly a sketchy looking black car rolls into the ally, coming to a halt as three angry looking men walk out. Clearly hiding something within their coats, the “leader” it seems steps up and speaks.

“You betta have that 1,000 you owe us right fucking now you little theif, I don’t appreciate you takin’ my mother’s gold necklace, rest her soul.” He growls.

Klaus raises his hands up, “Listen buddy, you stole that from your own mother at her funeral...and let me tell you she’s not to happy about it.” He says looking to his left where you assume this guys dead mother is standing.

The bald guy behind him shakes his head and says, “So fuckin what? We needed that shit for other important purposes raccoon eyes.”

Klaus now lost as to where this situation is about to turn looks over at you clearly needing assistance. While mouthing “help me”.

Walking past him you hold your hands up showing you have nothing to hide, “Now that’s not very nice, a real shit personality, your mother would be very disappointed in how you’ve turned out. Cause let’s be honest it’s not like your looks are doing anything for you either.” You say snickering trying to see how they’ll react.

The first guy smirks reaching into his coat to pull out a nasty looking knife. “See this right here, I’m a good old fashioned man, I don’t believe in guns.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, “Oh well in that case we should all be quite relieved then.”

Looking behind him you notice as his two friends pull their own weapons out, which consists of a hammer and some type of meat hook.

“Klaus couldn’t have picked an easier bunch of idiots to fuck up then these psychos.” You thought.

The bald one begins to move brushing past the first guy looking like he’s seeing red.

“Jesus, man I didn’t mean to offend, I’m just making friendly conversation.” You muse.

Baldy begins to charge holding up his hammer ready to strike. “Come here you bitch, that’s my husband you’re talking to.”

He swings as you side step him, tripping him as he falls directly onto the concrete. Conveniently dropping the hammer in the process. Klaus being the ever troublesomely fantastic sidekick, picks up the hammer and throws it at you.

Gripping the hammer tightly, baldy rises from the ground faster then you’d expected mouth bloody and boiling with rage.

But in a hot second his bearded buddy in crime sprints towards you with his meat hook seemingly out of nowhere.

Klaus yells for you to watch out but you didn’t even need to look, this guys heart beat is louder then a firework and you’re faster then a viper, your senses on overload. As you turn around in record time to grab the guys right arm with the meat hook.

With your left hand tight around this guys beefy one you hold on and push his assault giving him more power. Effectively fulfilling your plan and leading the hook right into baldys chest. Who was fortunately running towards you.

A split second later with the hammer in your right hand you swing it forcefully into the guys shins. Hearing a sweet sickly crunch sound and the wild howls protruding from your assailants throat.

“Sorry I didn’t know you were married.”

“Fuck you!” He screams.

You look up hearing the sting of metal being swung in the wind, to see a knife heading straight for your throat.

With lighting reflexes you grab his wrist, the knife inches from your vulnerable skin.

Klaus gasps in the background terrified and relieved at not getting your throat slit.

You turn your fingernails to sharp cat-like claws that dig dangerously into his flesh, causing hot blood to drip out. The man drops the knife and grimaces in pain.

“I don’t know about you but I don’t think my boyfriend owes you three motherfuckers shit.” You growl, eyes beginning to glow an electric blue while the whites of your eyes shift to black, something that happens when you start to use your power.

“Fuck you, and fuck that thieving piece of junky shit crying in the corner.”

Your mood darkens, “Wrong answer.”

Letting go of his bloody wrist you grip his throat with your left hand lifting him off the ground. He begins to choke and struggles against your tight grasp.

“I know you’ve heard of me from other friends of yours, so listen very closely. If you touch Klaus again or anyone else around here who’s just trying to survive in this city. I won’t be so generous next time. Or maybe I should rip your fucking face off right now.” You squeeze tighter drawing blood.

“Y/N.”  Klaus says softly.

“Let’s go home.” He asks with pleading eyes and you snap back to reality smelling the iron scent of blood on your hands.

Sometimes you can get carried away feeling the rush of the hunt, a taxing side affect of your power, one you’ve always struggled to control.

Letting the man go he slumps to the ground coughing and sucking in straggled breaths.

“ Alright, me..me and the boys...won’t do nothing....you have my...my word....no bullshit nothing....I swear.”

“Good cause your friends are gonna need more then some stitches.”

You quickly leave the ally and start walking down the street towards the Academy.

Breathing heavily, you look up at Klaus who’s at your side as you start to feel a bit embarrassed that he saw you lose it a little.

He holds onto your arms stopping you, “Don’t worry, we’ll have a bath and watch some movies...hey you like that Museum one?”

“The Night at the Museum.” You say smiling still feeling off.

Klaus’ face lights up, “Yeah that one, with the big T-Rex skeleton and President Roosevelt on a horse.”

He links your arms together and you both begin walking again.

“Y/N, I’m not afraid of you, you know. I never have been, I actually find it pretty sexy of you to beat up bad guys for me and keep the neighborhood safe-er. Ben thinks so too, minus the sexy part of course. Only I get to enjoy that.”

You relax more into his side and once again start to feel a bit more at ease with yourself.

“Oh wait a second, here put these sunglasses on, your eyes are still playing mood rings with us. Don’t wanna freak out the civilians” He laughs.

“Thanks, I did wonder why that kid back there looked like he just saw a ghost.”

Klaus winks, “Maybe he did, cough cough..Ben...cough cough.”

“You’re an ass.” You say while rolling your eyes

“Yes indeed my love but remember I deal with the supernatural of all sorts, from ghosts to monsters, nothing phases me.” Klaus states proudly.

You laugh, “ Okay Van Helsing, this monster wants a bath with her hunter then.”

Klaus kisses your cheek, “That can be arranged my dear.”

Smiling up at him you hold him tighter and think to yourself how weird your life is, but you wouldn’t change it for anything.

- okay wow alright, first story ever I hope it’s good or at least some people like it. It was honestly fun to write ngl.

[ollypopwrites]

I dont know how frog lady and her frog husband would work in the biker au but I feel like they deserve it anyway pls make it real 😔

okay anon i had no fuckin clue how to do this but @tintinwrites​ writes and I came up with this last night after I received this message so.... here we go lmao

Title: Frog Lady and Frog Husband 

wordcount: 602

warnings: idk I don't want to call it animal cruelty but like let's just say junior and amphibians don't mix well ok and bad language

Peli thought it was a great idea to get Junior not one, but two pets. Din went to drop the bike off at the shop and came home with a tank housing two frogs. 

He had a bad feeling about it. Junior, for whatever reason, had tried to put whatever amphibian he had ever found in his mouth and Din now had two trapped in a glass container. 

You thought it was cute so he had to keep them until you were gone long enough for him to set them free where they wouldn’t be in constant danger of being chewed on by a toddler. 

You set the tank up in his room, a few tiny plants from the shop as decoration along with a sizable water dish and tube of dead bugs. Junior’s face was pressed to the glass so close his little nose kept fogging it up and he kept babbling at them.

“What are we gonna call them?” You asked Junior. 

“He’s not keeping them, they don’t need names,” Din said blandly. 

“Stop it,” you turned to him, “look how happy he is!”

“He’s salivating, he wants to eat them.” 

“What are their names, Din?” You said with a frown. 

He sighed and his head dropped towards his chest. “Frog Lady and Frog… Husband.” 

You snorted, “okay then.” 

Things were fine… for a while. Junior was enraptured by his new pets, he watched them with big eyes. He was not allowed to hold them or put his hands in the cage without supervision but he hadn’t tried to do it on his own yet so Din was mostly okay with it. The damn things had laid eggs, but he figured once they had hatched or did whatever the fuck frog eggs did he would release them all back into the wild and they could move on back to their formerly pet-less lives. 

Until one day he was calling for him and no little stomps came around the corner and there were no little babbling sounds from any room. That usually meant trouble. 

Din walked into the living room where you were reading a book and he asked, “have you seen Junior?”

You shook your head. “Last I checked he was in his room.” 

Din went to the room and took two steps into the door before he yelled, “NO!”

Junior had climbed his way up onto his little dresser, drawers opened partially as they had been used as steps. On the top of the dresser, he had shifted the tank lid up and onto the carpet. In Juniors tiny but meaty fist was a handful of the eggs, and it was slowly heading towards his open mouth. 

Din quickly ran over and grabbed his hand and started trying to get him to drop the eggs, wiping off the ones stuck to his hands. You had run in when he yelled and were rather concerned at the scene before you. 

“How many did you eat?” Din asked the boy who just blinked owlishly at him. 

“Oh god.” You said. 

Both frogs were still in the tank (thankfully) and it seemed Junior had not eaten too many eggs. You had to call poison control to make sure he wasn’t going to die from eating an unknown amount of frog eggs, but the only thing you could do was wait until some kind of symptoms happen and the rest of the day he wasn’t allowed out of anyone’s sight for anything.  

The next day you and Din took the frogs to a nearby pond and wished Frog Lady, Frog Husband, and their remaining brood of eggs the best of luck. 

You both agreed: no more pets until Junior got over his “eating everything” phase. 

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