#or get kicked out of the bar. whichever comes first

[perpetualfox]

Hide and Seek - König x GN!Reader [NSFW]

Warnings: Dub-Con, Stalking, Manhandling, Creepy Behaviour

Wordcount: 1152

Had an incident at work where I got closed in a dark basement by accident. Sure wish a certain Austrian was there.

→The buzzing fluorescents hanging overhead flickered once and died, plunging you into near complete darkness. A strangled cry leapt from your throat—an undignified noise caught somewhere between indignant and frightened. There were no windows in the basement, but by a stroke of pure luck, you’d left the door open when you’d come in, and a shaft of light spilled in from the hallway.

→You stood, dusting off your knees and trying to orient yourself in the darkness. The light switch wasn’t far from the door, laying just beyond the dim halo of hall light. If you could make it there, surely you could just follow the wall until you reached it.

→Your fingers trailed against the edge of a shelving unit, keeping you steady and grounded in the pressing darkness. You hadn’t thought the lights were on a timer down here, but it seemed like the most likely explanation—it couldn’t be a blackout if the hall lights were still on. However, as you rounded the corner of the shelving unit, your heart jolted in your chest. A shadow was eclipsing your light—the door was closing.

→Someone must have wandered by, and thinking there was no one in the room, had turned out the lights and tried to close up.

→“Hey!” You called, hoping to catch the attention of whoever was out in the hall, “Hey! I’m working in here!”

→But there came no response, and the door banged shut, snuffing out the last of the light.

→You swore, fumbling in your pockets for your phone or your keys, whichever you could lay hands on first. You’d been trapped down here once before when the generators had failed—too afraid to move lest you knock into something and break it, or worse, yourself, you had sat in the dark for hours until the lights had flickered back to life. Unwilling to be caught out like that again, you had attached a little flashlight to your keychain. It wasn’t very powerful, but it would be enough to get you where you needed to go with your shins intact.

→As your fingers closed around the jagged metal of your keys, a soft sound caught your attention. Your head snapped toward it—you knew exactly what it was and where it had come from. Though the door had made an almighty bang when it had closed, the quiet snick of the lock turning frightened you far greater. The door did lock from both sides, but you hadn’t heard the rattle of keys against the door—and that sound, that sharp little click—the latch that made that sound was on your side.

→You weren’t alone. Not anymore.

→The back of your neck began to prickle with the sudden and terrible realization of your own vulnerability. An icy wash of fear flooded through you, tingling in your extremities like adrenaline. You were alone—adrift in an ocean of darkness, exposed on all sides. You strained against the shadows, looking and listening for any sign of movement in the blackness. But there was nothing.

→When at last, you felt the faint whisper of moving air against your skin, heard the near silent creak of a leather boot against the floor, it was already too late. You had time to register a single panicked thought—he’s behind me—before an arm, thick and hard as a metal bar seized about your chest. A gloved hand clamped down over your mouth, smothering your scream.

→You bit down, teeth sinking into the skin of the glove. The figure behind you—a man, you thought—grunted, and shoved you forward. The momentum carried you both forward, and you collided with a shelving until, the cold metal digging into your cheek. Your head buzzed with pain, your flesh singing where it had smashed against the metal.

→You struggled, kicking at the base of the shelf, trying to use it as a springboard, to propel yourself backwards to topple your attacker over. But it was no use. He was like a great wall of stone behind you, solid and unmoving. He let you struggle for a moment, seemingly enjoying the show, before jerking you backward. You stumbled back, unable to keep your footing as he dragged you along. You jabbed at him with your elbow, clipping him hard on the ribs, and earning a wheezing groan. You had barely a moment to bask in the triumph before he had swiped your legs from beneath you.

→He rode you to the ground, digging his knee hard into the knobs of your spine. You struggled, writhing in vain beneath his bulk as he bore down upon you, pressing you hard into the concrete.

→“Aww, Schatzi. Schatzi. You know I love it when you fight me,” His tone was simpering, dripping with a sweet cruelty that made your cheeks burn, “But that was just too easy.”

→You’d know that voice anywhere: the elongated vowels and clipped consonants, the thin, reedy growl beneath his words—König.

→His hands shook as they caressed the side of your face. His touch was so gentle, calloused fingers stroking over your cheek with such reverence, one might have thought you a holy relic—something so blessed he could hardly bear to touch it. His breath was coming hard, and you could feel it hot and wet against the back of your neck even though the damp cloth of his hood. He leaned forward, the rough fabric dragging against your skin as he kissed you. He did not remove the hood, but you could feel the arched bow of his lips through it all the same. It made you shudder.

→His gloved fingers slid down the column of your throat, catching around your clavicle and pressed down. Hard. You wriggled beneath him, your pathetic attempts to dislodge him dragging a rough laugh from is throat.

→“Ah-Ah.” He chided. “Hör auf damit, oder ich lasse dich nicht kommen”

→You bucked beneath him and surged forward, pressing his mouth against your ear, “I fucking said, ‘Stop that.’”

→He pressed his knee harder into your back, bone grinding against bone. You stilled, a hiss of pain on your lips.

→“There,” His finger stoked at your cheek, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

→You could feel the grin spread across his lips, beneath the hood. “Nun werde ich dich in den Boden Ficken, Schatzi. Ja?”

→He lowered his hips against your ass, grinding his cock against you and letting you feel just how much he liked it when struggled.

→“You’ll let me take you here on the filthy floor like a fucking slut, won’t you? Ja? Like a good Hase?’ He barked out a laugh, the vibrations of it jangling around in your ribcage. “Of course you will. Afterall,” His fingers closed around throat. You heard the jingle of his belt as he began to unbuckle it onehanded, “I caught you fair and square.”

Translations (Huge thank you to @habuu for correcting my grammar and phrasing):

→Schatzi - Little treasure/darling (condescending)

→Hör auf damit, oder ich lasse dich nicht kommen - Stop that now, or I won't let you cum

→Nun werde ich dich in den Boden Ficken, Schatzi. Ja? - Now. I want to fuck you into the floor, darling. Yes?

→Hase - Rabbit

[a-ikuoliver]

Happy two year anniversary!!

I’d like to order three Jager Bombs. One for me and Mr. Plague daddy Overhaul over there. The other is for the girl of the hour of course 😉

(Psst- not sure if it’s my app but the links to your rules isn’t working ;-; I’d overhaul is a no go for you pls feel free to replace for Bakugo/Shinso. Whichever you’re more inspired to write 💚. Happy two years!!)

thank u bby! i appreciate the bomb for me too teehee i wrote this for shinso bc i don't write for overhaul but i think tumblrs been having issues with the links but thank u for sending one in either way! i hope u enjoy <3 birthday bash intro + rules + menu | event masterlist

“can i get a jagerbomb? pl-pease?” your bright smile falters for just a moment when you try to keep your tone as even as possible at the spike of stimulation between your thighs, the slowly-dying battery kicking into life every few moments before settling to a low buzz again. shinso eyed you lazily, purple eyes looking you up and down, specifically drawn to the way your thighs squeezed together the moment you pulled yourself onto the barstool, before finally settling at your eyes.

“that’s everything?” oh, his voice is so deep, and you’re already so sensitive, the shiver running down your spine, your thighs nearly trembling at the low timbre.

if he was anyone else in this bar — drunk patron, high server — he wouldn’t have noticed the way you reacted to the sound of his voice, the miniscule changes in your demenour with every syllable that passed his lips, every letter senting a jolt straight to your aching clit. unfortunately for you, he’s awfully perceptive, noting every shiver, every jump, every squirm when he gets you your drink, and your second, and by the third he’s sure you’ve got a cute little vibrator tucked in the front of your panties; only half charged he’d guess by the way you kept wiggling, raising your hips into it as much as you could without drawing attention to yourself, despite how desperate you were to ride the poor toy until it either gave out or you did.

studying you from the far end of the bar, shinso watches you nearly choke on the drink when another strong burst of life from the toy, the surge getting you closer than the others had, your desperation to cum starting to show. glancing around the other customers, confirming all of them drunkenly dancing and cheering, you adjust in your seat, squeezing your thighs closer together, your eyelashes fluttering when you grinded firmly down onto the toy.

you’re so fucking desperate, nearly humping the chair the moment you think no ones watching you. hoisting himself off the edge of the bar, he stalks back towards the dimly lit corner you stayed in, a satisfied expression gracing his features when you froze in your spot, “you want another drink?”

his tone is bored when he gestures to the empty glass in front of you, but his eyes are anything but, lit ablaze by your nervousness, his violet iris growing darker when you stared up at him with wide, shocked eyes. leaning his forearms on the bar, he leaned closer, close enough you worry if he can hear the steady buzzing coming from between your slick, shaky thighs, “or did you just come here to get off?”

your chest tightens, your mouth bobbing open and shut dumbly, mumbling sounds that weren’t quite entire sentences, hardly even words, not quite managing to spout your innocence. the more you stumbled over your words, the hotter your face got, and the faster the blood rushed from his head, the more he wanted you.

“don’t bother trying to deny it, baby, you like geting off like this. with no one else having any idea what you’re doing over here,” he tilts his head curiously to the side, his lilac gaze as intense as it was when your eyes first met his, studying you, the way you squirmed the more he spoke.

he drops his voice, whispering lowly into your ear, “tell me you like it, and i’ll help you.”

your pupils nearly swallow your iris staring up at his wicked smile, your hips rolling subconsciously the longer he stares you down. parting your lips to speak, no sound escapes your wet lips.

shinso knows exactly what you want, but still, he scrunches his eyebrows, even going as far to cup his ear, “sorry, baby, what was that? it’s so loud in here, i couldn’t hear you.”

you flush again, finally mustering your voice, “please.”

quirking an eyebrow at you, he tosses up taking pity on you, hearing your sweet voice plead with him was enough to get his cock aching, but was it enough to get him to fuck you stupid? to finally have you cum? voice dripping in condescension, he whispered to you once more, “oh, sweetheart, you think you deserve to cum begging like that? that was pitiful.”

he stands back up straight to his full height, taking a step back from the ring-marked counter, his heart rate spiking when you gently circle your fingers around his wrist, god, his pants were getting tight, “please, i wanna cum.”

[cloakedsparrow]

‘Tim Joins the Bat-Family Early/Jason Sickfic’ AU Idea

Jason’s immune system wasn’t in great shape when Bruce adopted him, so before the Robin training and everything, Bruce, Alfred, and Leslie first focused on strengthening it. They adjusted his diet, made sure he was up to date on all his vaccines, made sure he got enough sleep (that one was mainly Alfred), ran allergy tests, all that not-so-fun-but-very-necessary-for-good-health stuff.

And it worked. Jason hardly ever got sick after the first year he was with them. Which is why neither Bruce nor Alfred immediately questioned it when he decided to sleep in late one fine Summer morning. Eventually, Bruce left to get some work done with Wayne Enterprises and Alfred headed out to run some errands and have lunch with an old friend.

Despite his good health since being adopted, Jason had his ass kicked by the flu enough times in the past before that to recognize what was happening when he woke up miserable and feverish.

He knew either Bruce or Alfred would happily come home to take care of him, but he felt a little silly calling on either of them. Bruce needed to work and Alfred only got to leave the Manor like once a week unless he was stuck driving Bruce somewhere. Jason didn’t want to call either of them back.

Dick, however, he didn’t mind calling. His big brother had made it clear that he could call him any time for anything (advice, help, a friendly ear, needing someone to yell at Bruce, anything). Jason's hazy, fevered mind, light sensitive eyes, and sore joints led to him hitting the contact number that read ‘Drake’ instead of the one that read ‘Dick’. (Either Tim had given Jason his number and Jason just never used it before or Janet and Bruce had made sure their kids had the others’ home number for emergencies)

Tim answered and, while Jason honestly wasn’t sounding all that coherent, understood that the older boy was sick. He’d had to wait out the flu on his own before and knew how much it sucked, and the Waynes were just on the other side of Bristol, he wouldn’t even need to cross into any bad neighborhoods to go help. So he packed up some of his tried and true flu fighting supplies and hopped on his bike to head to Wayne Manor. He parked the bike outside the gates and just slipped his scrawny ass between the bars to walk up to the huge home. He knocked and waited politely for a reasonable moment, then walked around to the service entrance and punched in the pass-code that he shouldn’t have known (he’d seen Dick use it once but if anyone asked, he guessed. He’d mention to whichever member of the Wayne household he ended up speaking to that your eldest son's birthday wasn’t the best pass-code). Tim makes his way to the family wing upstairs and tries a couple doors before finding Jason's room.

Jason is in bad shape, but Tim manages to get him to take some fever reducer and stay hydrated. He fills a bowl with tepid water and finds washcloth from the nearest bathroom to place on Jason’s head. He reads from the book on the nightstand. He gets Jason to eat some applesauce. He takes his temperature every half hour and writes everything down for whoever comes along to take over.

Eventually, Alfred returns home (maybe he got help up by Gotham weirdness) and is surprised to find a strange boy in the Manor. However, his primary focus in on Jason. He’s happy with the care Tim gave his grandson but, naturally, takes over from there. Tim leaves a note about the pass-code and lets himself out.

A few days later, when Jason is feeling better, Alfred asks him about Tim. Jason doesn’t remember a whole lot about when the kid arrived and only had bouts of lucidness here and there before Alfred took over. He honestly hadn’t been sure if they’d adopted another kid or if he was a relative of either Bruce or Alfred’s but he hadn’t really been in the best place to question it much. He’d felt safe though. And cared for.

After Alfred comments that he, too, was impressed with the care Tim had administered, Jason has a red flag go up. Tim is two or three years younger than him. He’s a child. His first response to such a strange call out of nowhere should have been to get an adult. He shouldn’t know how to tackle the flu on his own like he did.

Jason decides he should thank Tim. Maybe spend a little more time with the kid, since he seems cool. Maybe look into his home life a little while he’s at it.

Maybe he’ll just end up keeping him. If Bruce can bring home a random child in need, why can’t he?

And then he does just that.

[whoreanghae]

water ; joshua hong

genre - protective shua, fake dating kinda?

word count - 1.1k

disclaimers - mentions of alcohol / being drunk, unwanted attention, lowercase on purpose, no proofreading, fic under the cut

a/n - just a short fic, nothing special just shua being very protective :) been finding it hard to get motivation to write lately so this is just something from the back of my brain. enjoy!!

“next rounds on you, jeonghan! i can hear my bank account crying from my pocket!!”

going out with the guys after an especially long string of promotions was the perfect way to blow off steam. they always chose the best, fanciest bars to occupy. plus, there was an added bonus that if coups gets drunk enough, you can convince him that he agreed to pay for the next round of shots.

after having a couple drinks that were definitely stronger than you anticipated, it was time for you to make your way to the restrooms. minghao stabilized you as you stood up and less than gracefully made your way to the other side of the room. when you got into the restroom, you stood and looked in the mirror. as the room spun around you, you realized that maybe your limit has diminished as you’d gotten older. you do your thing and head back out, making a stop at the bar first to get yourself a glass of water. at least drunk you was still capable of making somewhat rational decisions.

as you stood at the bar, you half fell over but caught yourself on the counter. a man walked around you, hooking his arm around your waist and holding you up. you didnt think twice, assuming it was one of the guys just helping you out. but, as you looked towards the table they were all sitting around, the only empty seat was your own. now you’re filled with confusion and discomfort. you try to pull yourself away but the man tightens his grip on your side. 

“now now, we both know you’re not as stable as you think you are.”

you try to make your voice as stable as possible as you make an attempt at pushing him away or getting someones attention, whichever you can manage first.

“im fine, please let me go.”

the man leans closer until you hear a voice from his opposite side whichs makes his arms tense, but slightly release you at the same time.

“babe, everything ok?”

joshua?

“not really..”

joshua steps closer to the man who has now completely let go of your waist. he lowers his tone and his voice becomes raspy and powerful as he speaks.

“i don’t want to sound like a douche or anything, but i can have you kicked out of here faster than you could leave on your own accord. so i would suggest that you make a decision before i have to.”

the man mutters apologies to shua as he steps back and hurriedly leaves the bar. at this point, you are completely depending on the counter to hold you up. shua puts a (much more welcoming) arm around you, making you feel secure. you lean into him with your head on his shoulder as the bartender comes over and shua asks him for a glass of water. the bartender hands him the glass as the two of you make your way back to the table. the guys shift down so you can take the seat next to joshua, and you sink into his side as he feeds you the glass of water.

at this point your night had been ruined, and the guys noticed that too. shua offers to take you home which you gladly accept. you both say goodbye to everyone as you head outside and find a bench to sit on while you wait for your taxi to show up. you babble into shua’s shoulder as he scrolls on his phone.

“thank you, shua.”

“hm?”

he put his phone in his pocket as he turns his full attention to you.

“thank you for getting that man to go away.”

“i knew you were uncomfortable, i just did what anyone else shouldve done.”

“but this is better.. cuz its you…” 

shua chuckles as he rubs your arm, making you snuggle further into his side. when the taxi comes, joshua practically carries you to the car. you settle in and he makes quiet small talk with the driver as you slowly fall asleep on his shoulder.

when you get to your apartment, you pass shua your keys and rub your eyes while he unlocks the door and ushers you inside. he picks out your pajamas as you sit on your bed, watching his every move. he passes you your clothes as he leaves the room to let you get dressed.

you call out for him to come back in when youre in your pajamas, and he passes you another glass of water. you groan but he laughs as you take the glass anyways. he grabs your makeup remover wipes from your bathroom and sits on your bed next to you, lifting your legs and moving you to face him. his hands are warm.

when you’re all ready for bed, you crawl under the covers and watch as he puts everything back in its place. he makes everything look beautiful, elegant. even the simplest of motions are incredible when it’s shua. he pulls out his phone to book another cab to his place, but you sit up half way in your bed.

“shu?”

“yeah?”

“maybe it’d be cheaper if you didn’t get a taxi tonight and i could take you home tomorrow?”

“are you suggesting i stay here tonight?”

you give him a pleading smile as you pull back the covers and he playfully rolls his eyes. most of the guys have left miscellaneous clothes items at your house from other occasions, so he digs through the drawer and finds some pajamas to change into. when he comes back into the room, you watch him again. beautiful. thats the only word to describe him.

he slides into the covers and smiles at you as he leans over you and turns off the lamp on your bedside table. the night fades away, as you both fall asleep after mumbled ‘goodnight’s into the dark. 

when you wake up, the bed is empty. you stumble out of bed, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in the right side of your head. the smell of breakfast enters your nose, as you get to the kitchen and see shua cooking at the stove. you walk to him and rest your cheek on his back. 

“good morning, party animal.”

his eyes are fond as he gestures to the counter behind the two of you, where he has two ibuprofen and a glass of water sitting out, ready for you. 

“another glass of water, ive never been so hydrated in my life.”

shua laughs.

“thats not a bad thing, is it?”

he walks towards you and looks into your eyes as you drink all the water and lay the glass down with a smile.

“no, not at all.”

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Closing Time

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Bartender!Reader

Rating: Mature

Notes: Not beta-read, cause when is it ever. Just a little oneshot, set pre-show

No physical descriptions, no use of y/n.

Warnings: Cursing, flirty Rhett, drunk Rhett

Summary: “You’re having a helluva night, huh,” You comment. 

“S’that supposed to mean?” 

“You got a shit bull, then you struck out with that girl…And you failed to bait Luke Tillerson into trying to kick your ass.” 

You knock on the bar twice, catching Rhett's hazy eye and raising a brow. 

“You good?” 

“Fine.” It’s a near-slurred mumble, chased by the delayed glance toward a woman you’d seen him talking to half an hour ago. There are so few people left in the bar, it's hard to miss her. Now, she’s on the arm of one of the Tillerson’s—you’re too lazy to get a better look at which one. You’re already dreading whichever one might come over to pay the tab, if they bother to pay the tab tonight. You’ve been working long enough to know not to chase the Tillersons out the door when they haven’t. Luke typically turns up some time around opening the next day, asking what they owe with a smarmy smile, dropping a thick stack of bills on the countertop to cover it, and telling you to keep the change, sweet thing. 

You lean back against the counter, eyeing the few other patrons, waving at the few that have already paid and are on their way out. You glance toward Rhett again, toward where he’s trailing his finger along the side of his half-full beer. He looks back as the TIllerson’s explode in laughter. They rise from their table, trailing toward the door. 

“‘Ey,” Rhett mumbles it at first, so softly that you hardly realize he’s spoken. He tries it again, louder, as the Tillerson's breeze outside. 

“Hey!” He yells, rising so quickly that he sends the stool tumbling to the ground. 

“Dude!” You hiss. 

“You didn’t pay!” He’s still yelling after them, as if they’re not already gone. You lean over the bar and reach out, whacking him in the bicep with the rag you use to clean the counter top. It seems to snap him out of it, and he glances between you and the door, pointing after them. “They didn’t pay!” 

“Thank you for the update, Columbo. Would you sit back down?” 

You reach out, taking up his unfinished beer and dumping it out. 

“I wasn’t done with that—” 

“You’re done with it now. Sit down and gimme your phone.” 

Rhett seems to take a moment to process what you've said. Then he takes your orders one after another, reaching down and taking up the stool and righting it before sitting. He fishes into his pocket, drawing his phone out and passing it over. You eye the cracked screen before you hold it up to him. 

“Open it.” 

He hesitates, gaze flickering to you before he does as he’s told again. You bring the phone back, finding Perry’s number and raising it to your ear. 

“Rhett?” The question is croaked out after two rings, “What are you doin’, callin’ now?” 

“Come get your brother.” 

“...Aw, hell,” Perry mutters. The sound is in and out; you’re almost certain he's scrubbing his hand over his face. “Alright. I’ll be there in twenty.” 

“Fuckin’ better. I've gotta close here.” 

You don’t wait for his answer, you just hang up and toss Rhett’s phone onto the counter in front of him. You catch a glimpse of his hangdog expression as you turn away from him, taking up a coffee mug and filling it before turning back to him. 

“Take your time with it,” You warn as you set it down. “It’s hot.” 

“...They didn’t pay.” 

“I know. They’ll come back in the morning.” 

“That so?” 

“Trust me. This isn’t the first time.” 

“They get away with all that shit.” 

“They’re not getting away with anything," You fib. "If you left without paying, I’m sure you’d be back in the morning, too.” You walk over to the counter, popping the register open and beginning to count the till out. Otherwise empty, the bar has settled into quiet, save for the murmur of music over the speakers, and the odd thud of Rhett’s coffee mug being set back down on the counter. You glance over at him, weighing your options, watching him smooth his hand over his hair, the brace on his wrist nearly obscuring his face as he reaches up. You turn back to the bills, counting through them. 

“You’re having a helluva night, huh,” You comment. 

“S’that supposed to mean?” 

“You got a shit bull, then you struck out with that girl…And you failed to bait Luke Tillerson into trying to kick your ass.” 

“How’d you know I got a bad bull?”

“Heard people talking.” 

“I wasn’t trying to fight Luke.” 

“Oh, please,” You chuckle. “Don’t pretend you were trying to protect the integrity of the business.” 

“They act like they own everything in this damn town.” 

You won’t argue with that. He’s not wrong—but it’s also not something that you’re willing to combat. They’re assholes, but they’re assholes that tip. 

“Keep drinking your coffee,” You advise. “Your ma’ll have my head if you’re drunk as a skunk when you get in.” 

“She won’t,” Rhett chuckles. “She loves you. ‘Sides, I did this myself.” 

“I should’ve cut you off two beers ago.” 

“I ain’t that bad.” 

“Not all that good, either. Speaking of which, if you’re gonna toss, aim for a trash can.” 

“I’m not gonna be sick.” 

“You sure?” 

“Trust me.” 

“If you say so.” 

“I been worse than this.” 

“Well, that I know.” 

“You’re really makin’ me feel better.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I’m not here to make you feel better, Abbott. This isn’t Cheers, despite the fact that you chose to go somewhere everybody knows your name.” 

“Can’t go anywhere in Amelia County without someone knowing my name.” 

“Well hey, big guy, my apologies.”

“That ain’t what I mean,” Rhett chuckles. Then he perks up, patting his hands on the counter. “What can I do?”

“What?” You frown, glancing up from the stack of twenties.

“Put me to work. What can I do?” 

“Seriously?” 

“I’ll just be sitting here til Perry comes an’ gets me. C’mon.” 

You hesitate before you nod toward the flap. 

“Grab the clorox spray and wipe down the tables if you really wanna help.” 

Rhett stands, rounding the counter and lifting the flap to get behind the bar. He ducks down, eyeing the shelf that you pointed to before he grabs the spray and the rag. You arch a brow, watching him round to the end of the bar, starting with the furthest tables. Maybe he’s trying to get out of trouble with you. Maybe he thinks if he helps out, you won’t mention this to his mama. Hell, you’re not planning on mentioning it to her, anyway, but you’ll take all the help you can get. 

“If you throw up, you’re cleaning it up,” You warn. 

“Told you,” He calls back. “I’m not gonna be sick.” 

You grunt, filling out the closing sheet before tucking the cash into the envelope. You find yourself tucking it into the back of your jeans, drawing your shirt down over it. You trust Rhett, sure, but if someone comes in when you’re cleaning up and it’s just laying around, and that sleeve comes up missing, your ass is on the chopping block. 

You look over to find Rhett studiously scrubbing the bar. You can’t help but smile a little. That hangdog look seems to have vanished. You can’t help but wonder what’s done it. Maybe his head is clearing up; maybe it’s because he’s helping you out, making himself useful. 

“You gimme a minute, we can start putting up the chairs,” You offer. 

“I can do it.”

“It’ll go faster with two.” You shut the drawer, locking it before you round the counter. You reach out, taking the rag and spray from him. “You feeling better?”  

“Yeah,” He admits. “Think I just needed to move around a bit. Coffee helped.” 

“Good.” You glance toward the clock. “Perry should be here soon.” 

Rhett nods, picking up his coffee and taking a swig. 

“Want some more?” You ask, nodding toward the mug.

“Uh…” He frowns, tipping the mug toward himself. “If there is more, yeah. Please.” 

You nod, taking up the coffee pot. “Polite as always, Abbott.” 

“Not always.” 

“I suspect you can be damn polite when you wanna be, so long as I’m not a Tillerson.” 

“Alright, let up,” He grumbles, drawing his mug back as you empty the coffee pot and set it down again. You smile as he nods back. “Are we stackin’ chairs?” 

“In a minute. Drink your coffee.”

“You always been this bossy?” 

“Yes.” 

“How’d I never realize?” 

“Probably too distracted by cute girls and the Tillerson’s to notice.” 

“Jealous, honey?” 

The accusation sends heat skittering up your neck. You force an eye roll, turning away and straightening up. 

“Alright, cap it and help me stack some fucking chairs,” You grumble, skirting out from behind the bar. 

“That a yes?” Rhett trails after you like a puppy; even with your back to him, you can practically hear his dopey smile. It makes that heat creep up just a little higher. You reach down, forcing your mind to the task at hand, and away from Rhett’s fastidious and curious gazes. 

“S’alright, you can tell me. If you’d told me sooner, I might’a done something about it,” Rhett adds. You glance over toward him, watching him lift a chair and set it on the table. 

“Is that right?” You ask dryly. 

“Sure. Always thought you were pretty.” 

“Were?” You lean into it, ready to brush off the flirting, “The bloom’s already off the rose?” 

You set a chair onto the table, and before you can get any further, you feel the warmth of him behind you. He raises his hands, bracketing you in and grasping the legs of the chair that you’ve set on the table. Your heart ticks up in your chest as you keep your gaze set forward. 

“You see all those other chairs, Abbott?” You ask lightly. Rhett is quiet for a moment, stepping closer, lips brushing against your temple. 

“I don’t see anything else in here but you, sugar.” 

You push back the warmth that his murmur wells up in favor of nudging him aside with a laugh of, “Oh, that’s good.” You walk to the next table, stalwartly keeping your gaze from his as you begin to put up more chairs. You glance back to find Rhett leaning dejectedly against the table, and you sigh softly. 

“Don’t do that,” You grumble. 

“What?” 

“Pout.” 

“I struck out twice.” 

“You only struck out once.” 

“What do you call this?” Rhett asks, waving his finger between the two of you. You rest a hand on the table, cocking your hip. 

“This," You mimic his gesture, "Was never gonna happen. No offense, Abbott, but I don’t fuck drunk patrons.” 

“What about sober ones?” 

“You aren’t sober, Rhett.” 

“Not right now, but…” 

You raise your brows as Rhett lets it hang in the air. You consider for a moment before you shrug a little. You may as well throw the guy a bone—especially since you mean it, a little.

“Maybe,” You concede, “But bat those pretty lashes all you want, it ain’t happening tonight.” 

Your stomach flips as Rhett’s lips pull into a teasing little smile. “You think my lashes are pretty?” 

You laugh again, shaking your head and turning away from him. 

“Put up the damn chairs, Abbott.” 

[crabofthewoods]

lucifer and charlie both sleep splayed out on their beds. limbs everywhere, they look like starfish, they move around a lot, they probably regularly wake up having fallen on the floor. lucifer talks in his sleep. charlie doesn’t talk, but she giggles a lot

vaggie sleeps on her side and does not move at all, completely silent, she can fall asleep immediately after laying down (smth smth military habits idk)

angel drapes himself across things, usually sleeps on his back, probably hugs a pillow with his arms and/or legs. he sleepwalks but usually it just consists of getting a snack from the kitchen and then flopping back down on the couch

husk can and will fall asleep anywhere. snores like a dad. doesn’t sleep-talk, but he sleep-meows. alastor has an audio recording of husk purring and chirping after passing out on the bar

niffty only ever sleeps when alastor sleeps (or when she passes out, whichever comes first). flops around a lot, kicks her feet, chews on things, eats the pillows and alastor’s hair, etc. she is as much of a tornado asleep as awake

alastor sleeps as little as physically possible. no one but rosie, niffty, and maybe husk can tell when he’s tired. waits until he’s bone weary and then shadows up to his room and faceplants into his bed. he always ends up in some kind of insane exorcism position, like with his ankle on his neck n shit. he smiles in his sleep (muscle memory mostly), always has at least one eye open, and his “snoring” consists of flipping through radio channels n shit. he chews on things in his sleep and usually that thing happens to be his own arm. he could still be awake if the entire hotel exploded around him but the second someone (besides niffty) walks in the room he’s wide awake

[tiny-minecraft-rabbit]

18 with Martyn and anyone from Rats2?

Martyn grumbled in the cage, kicking at the bars halfheartedly. It was no use. He hadn't even realized he left his paperclip at home until the human had already tossed him in. He was stuck until one of the other rats came around and found him. Or he died. Whichever came first.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here."

Martyn sat up at the familiar voice. He glared as he caught sight of Ros. She was dressed in her cultist clothes, the robes still bloodied. A disturbing sight, when paired with her smile and wide eyes.

"You seem to have gotten yourself in a bit of a pickle here, Maratyn," Ros continued with a giggle, "Need help?"

He scoffed, "Not from a damned cultist. You probably just want to let me out so you can stab me yourself."

"I don't want to stab you. I want to let you out, promise. I didn't even bring a knife with me!" She held her hands out in front of her palms open and empty.

"Okay, sure. What's the catch?"

Ros hesitated before answering softly, "I know you've all made a pact not to save me or Tubbo if we get caught. I'm asking for a deal. I help you and next time one of us are caught you help us."

"Yeah. No," Martyn replied, shooting Ros a grin.

She seemed unperturbed. "There's no one awake right now but us, Martyn. No one else is coming, and if you could get out yourself you would have by now."

"In my defense," Martyn growled out, "I wasn't planning on getting caught."

"I bet not, but you did and now I can get you out. You just have to agree to my deal."

There was a beat. Then two. Martyn could feel his timer ticking. He slipped a hand behind his back and crossed his fingers. "Fine. Deal."

[xxxevilfilms]

Bicurious Twenty-Somethings | Chapter 3

Info: Fuck buddies AU. Hwoarang and Jin attempt to see eye to eye after concluding that neither of them have anything to gain from their rivalry and decide to become friends...kinda. One thing leads to another when Hwoarang exposes Jin to recreational activities that colors Jin’s feelings about his former rival.

Kinks: Dirty Talk, Rimming, Anal Sex, Painful/Rough Sex, Creampie, Light Sadism, Light Masochism, Crying

Hits From the Bong | Jin Kazama x Hwoarang

Summary: Jin has taken to weed like a duck to water which comes with its own set of issues, like his lack of impulse control. Hwoarang notices this and shamelessly exploits it if it means finally getting to fuck Jin.

Ao3 Link

Another weekend descends upon them, which means another weekend of getting high in Hwoarang's hotel room. Jin at this point takes care to bring an overnight bag with him since things tend to get too heated too fast whenever he's in the same room as Hwoarang and tonight would be no different. They take hits from a bong this time, an apparatus Hwoarang had procured from some smoke shop a few days prior, and Jin hasn't felt more baked in his life. After two weeks (or three, he isn't too sure anymore) of smoking grass nonstop, Jin expected his tolerance to be a little better than this, but here he was, flighty and weightless like a balloon floating through a vat of oil. While Jin didn’t mind being a little high, this degree of delirium didn’t bode well for him. His inhibitions were dampened when he had too much to smoke, susceptible to suggestions and ideas brought on by his overeager best friend’s overactive imagination. He can resist Hwoarang to a degree when he was like this, but he’s always sucked into his schemes somehow in some way, usually in between his legs or riding his face, whichever came first.

Jin blinks bloodshot eyes as he tries focusing on the words of a Chinese takeout menu, hungry like a beast, while Hwoarang plays a solo round of House of the Dead 2, doing leagues better than last time thanks to Jin not playing with him, but Jin can tell just by looking at him that Hwoarang was out of it, too. His fingers tap incessantly at the controller as his eyes, also red from potent bud, follow enemies on the TV screen like a tracking laser, somehow unblinking as his loose lips ramble on about whatever comes to mind for him. Hwoarang is usually good about maintaining some degree of lucidity when he smokes, but his hooded eyes, messy hair, and code-switching lets Jin know that Hwoarang is a little worse for wear.

“Oi, babo,” Hwoarang kicks him a little with his foot. “Ajik eumsigeul jumunhaji anheusyeo-ssnayo?”

“I don't know what you're saying.”

“Food, you fuck, did you order it or nah?”

“You didn't tell me what you wanted yet.”

“We order and get the same shit every week, you should know.”

“How am I supposed to know that? I can't read your mind.”

“Take a good guess.”

“I dunno... Subuta--”

“Ahhh! Sshib-saekki!” Hwoarang throws his head back in frustration, angry at the game, but he gets back into it soon enough. “Yeah, yeah, subuta. Extra pork this time...”

“Right...” Jin grabs his phone and dials a number, staring at the screen with Hwoarang. He was fighting The Emperor, a hard boss, but Jin has confidence Hwoarang will be able to defeat it.

After calling the restaurant and placing their order, Jin snacks on some chocolate as he stands up on wobbling legs, looking for his jeans.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

“Food will be ready in an hour,” Jin replies. “If we walk there now, we can pick it up in time.”

“Eh? We're walking there? Why are we walking there??”

“I think it'll do us some good, I'm feeling pretty out of it.” Jin holds the chocolate bar between his teeth when he picks up his pants. “I dunno what kind of strain you got, but it's very potent.”

“It's probably the bong...”

“Really...?”

“Yup.” Hwoarang pauses his game to grab it. “Bongs get you more fucked up than a joint.”

“Why are we smoking out of one then?”

“Gee, I dunno, maybe cuz I wanna get fucked up?” He holds the pipe to his lips and lights the bowl “That ever occur to you? Huh? That I wanna get fucked up?”

“Well alright then,” Jin shrugs. “I'll go. One of us has to get it.”

“H-Hey--” Hwoarang coughs out hazy smoke. “Hey, you asshole, I didn't say I wasn't going.”

“Hurry up and throw something on then because I'm not waiting for you.”

“Ughhh...”

Jin puts on a jacket while Hwoarang scavenges for some sweatpants and a t-shirt he had scattered on the floor. When they leave the hotel room, reeking of bud and cologne, they walk past they’re parked motorbikes and venture into the streets, much to Hwoarang’s chagrin.

“We’re walking by my chopper.”

“We are.”

“We’re also walking by your chopper.”

“You have eyes.”

“And it's cold as fuck out here!”

“If you're just going to complain, go back inside.”

“I don't get why we can't drive there...”

“Are you crazy? I'm not driving like this.”

“Ugh, you're one of those people?”

Jin says nothing in hopes that Hwoarang will take this time to keep his mouth shut, which he thankfully did, probably too blazed out of his mind to complain any further.

After walking down the sidewalk for about ten minutes in relative silence, Jin feels Hwoarang sway into him, nearly making him stumble. Jin ignores it at first as he was used to Hwoarang getting clingy when they smoke, but it becomes mildly annoying when he begins pushing too deeply into Jin’s side with his chest.

“Are you too out of your mind to walk or something?”

“Nah,” Hwoarang shook his head. “Just cold.”

“It’s not too late to head back.”

“Sure ain’t, but we're already out here.”

Before Jin can react, Hwoarang uses his body weight to push Jin to a brick wall. Jin grunts a little, but doesn’t struggle much, just looks up, exasperated, at the redheaded punk who’s pinning him against this jagged wall with thick arms and a broad chest.

“Don't you wanna warm me up?”

Jin feels something poke his tight, something hot, hard and weighty that thrums incessantly against his waist.

“Are you serious?” Jin squirms against him, becoming increasingly wary of potential passerby. “Right now? Right here? What are you, some kind of pervert?”

“I’m horny,” He leans forward to suck on Jin’s ear. “There’s a difference.”

“No, Hwoarang,” He grabs his shoulders. “Not here, maybe when we get--”

“You know why I wanted to stay in tonight, right?”

“To get...” Jin tries to find the right words. “To get fucked up... Right?”

“Not just that, dumbass,” Hwoarang rolls his hips, a deep rock of his pelvis that, to Jin's dismay, makes his cock lurch. “I want you.”

“That’s nothing new...” Jin pushes into him. “What’s the difference this time--”

“Your fucking asshole, that's what.”

Impatient and rough like a stray with a bone, Hwoarang pulls away a little from Jin to slip calloused hands behind his back and stare deeply into almond-shaped eyes. Jin, through the red haze of Hwoarang's gaze, can see the carnality behind them, and shrinks back in a mix of worry and some fear.

“Hwoa--” Jin's words stop in his throat when Hwoarang grabs his ass, fingers kneading it so deeply, Jin is sure he's leaving bruises.

“Every time I taste this hole, when you ride my face,” He gives him a hard spank through his sweats, eliciting another emotionally painful jolt from his loins. “The only thing that's on my mind is how good it'll feel wrapped around my cock.”

Jin gasps, wanton and lustful, half-hard member nudging against Hwoarang's erection. Goddamn this man, and his silver tongue, and his hot, hard body pressing so sharply into him it makes his back hurt. Hwoarang has eaten him out and finger fucked him enough times that Jin wanted his cock in him eventually, perhaps within the month, but this suddenly and so out in the open like this was not what Jin wanted...

Right...?

Damn it all, Jin sighs internally, woefully to himself; he's already second guessing himself, no thanks to this weed and the man who supplied him with it.

He needs to put a stop to this now.

“Look, I get it, I would like to have sex with you, too,” Jin tries looking past Hwoarang's flaring pupils to find some kind of mercy in them, wherever that is. “But out here in the open like this is a little risqué, don't you think? And it's so cold and nippy out here... When we get back, we can--”

Jin's face is grabbed, taken in one hand by the jerk who's already bringing one of Jin’s legs around his waist, forcing him to feel how hot and hard he is. Jin resists with all his might to rock into it, but Hwoarang does it for him, moving upwards when Jin tries shifting away.

Jin grunts and tries turning his head, ashamed of his body's response.

“You--!” His eyes flutter and his breathing picks up when Hwoarang humps him against the wall. “Goddamn it, Hwoarang, are you serious...!?”

“Does it feel like I'm fucking with you?” He sticks his tongue out and licks Jin’s lips. “If you really didn't want it, you'd have popped me by now.”

“I don't want this--!”

“Then do something about it, smartass,” Hwoarang drops Jin's leg to grab at his hair, tugging it downwards so he could look up at him. “Look me in the fucking eyes and tell me you don't want this.”

Jin's breath hitches, his heart beating so fast he can feel it in his throat. A sharp, electrifying tingle rides down his back, painful pleasure that is exacerbated by the hand on his face and the fingers in his hair. Hwoarang is a forceful, borderline selfish lover, but Jin has never seen him so...ferocious. 

Hungry. 

Jin is silent and unmoving, unable to give Hwoarang a response when a wave of bud-induced euphoria overwhelms him, making his mind fuzzy and his loins ache with need. They have an errand to run, and yet, for some Godforsaken reason, Jin can't find a reason to care about it now.

Not when Hwoarang looks at him like that.

Damn it all...

“Open your mouth.”

Jin does so wordlessly, the speed at which he obeyed Hwoarang's command almost scaring him. Was he really going to let this happen? Was he really going to let Hwoarang ravish him right here on this dank street corner like a whore, legs spread for the whole world to see?

Apparently so.

Jin is stiff as a plank of wood when Hwoarang closes distance between them again, flexing tongue leaving his open mouth to play with Jin's. It squirms and rolls over his own, tasting half-melted chocolate, trying to get Jin's to play. Jin, in this moment, in his inebriated state, is a slave to his id and cannot help but reciprocate such wanton affection. He holds Hwoarang like a ravenous whore then, hands roaming over taut back muscles and a tight backside that Jin grabs at with the same intensity that his companion did to him.

Hwoarang pins him to the wall then, weighing him down, lips closing around his tongue to suck on it this time. Jin is shameless in his arousal and humps Hwoarang's cock like a bitch in heat, desperate and plaintive, unable to deny him. Hwoarang meets his thrusts with ones of his own as he smooths his lips up and over Jin’s tongue, sucking on it like candy, until he gets too riled up for his own good. Spit follows him when he parts from Jin, spit that he lets drip off the tip of his tongue and into Jin’s mouth that the younger man instinctively swallows.

Hwoarang licks his teeth, pleased with himself, especially when he reaches down to cup Jin through his pants. He's already trying to work them down so he can get at what he wants the most, but a noise, the clamor of city life, stops Hwoarang in his tracks.

It gives Jin a little bit of breathing room to pose a suggestion.

“Okay, okay, you win...” Jin finds the strength to push him back. “We can go back.”

“Hmph,” Hwoarang finally backs up. “What happened to our food?”

“I'll take care of it.”

“Baboya...”

Hwoarang taps his ass when Jin walks past him, something that would usually earn Hwoarang a glare, but Jin takes it in stride, too horny to care.

The stutter in their momentum that is prolonged briefly by Jin canceling their order returns with a vengeance once Hwoarang has them both on the bed. He's impatient and forceful with him, throwing him around and manhandling him until Jin is in a position he is satisfied with, and once their clothes come off, Hwoarang eats him alive with the passion of a wild beast.

Jin lays on his stomach, head tucked into thick arms, rocking his hips in time with the impassioned tongue that invades his insides. It fucks him much like a finger, nimble and loose as it glides against his walls, agitating his prostate. It reminds Jin of a need within him that he's been neglecting for far too long; the desire to be filled up and claimed by something so much better than what Hwoarang is giving him. 

Jin calls out for his friend’s name when Hwoarang holds onto his ass, desperate for his hole, sucking it and licking at it so greedily, Jin is confident they wouldn't need much lube to make it fit. That was just fine with him though; Hwoarang has played with him enough back there that he hardly needs so much prep work.

Turning restless much like the redhead who is eating him out, Jin raises his hips so he could grab at his cock and present himself properly to Hwoarang.

“H-Hey...” He swallows when he calls for him again. “I think I'm okay now.”

“Oh yeah?” Hwoarang parts from him to leave a wet kiss on his taint. “You want my cock that bad?”

“Yeah,” Jin nods. “I want you to...fuck me.”

Hwoarang is quiet when he crawls over Jin's body to lay on him, making him feel the hot hard cock that silently menaces him with its girth.

“I'm gonna pop your cherry, baby,” He whispers into his ear, rocking into him with it. “Cream in your hole and fuck you like a whore. You want that?”

“Yes...” Jin follows the curve of his shaft, needy and wanton with his plea. “Fuck me, please, Hwoarang.”

“I'm gonna tear it up, you know that, right? Make it hurt,” He bites his ear. “You sure you want it?”

“I don't care, I want it, I want it so bad...” Jin's eyes nearly roll into the back of his head from anticipation when Hwoarang sits up to spread him apart. “I want it to hurt me...”

Jin has since accepted that he enjoyed a little bit of pain, maybe some degradation here and there, but he didn't expect such sordid words to flow out of his mouth so easily like that.

It triggers something within Hwoarang that brings Jin’s inner pain slut to the surface.

Hwoarang hits him in the place he loves the most, his ass, but the spanks that he receives from him this time are hot, sharp, and smiting, aggravated terribly by short nails that rake against his tender skin.

Jin yelps loudly in a mix of pain and pleasure at that, unable to contain his arousal when he starts rubbing himself against the sheets.

“You shouldn’t have said all of that, Kazama...” His fingers pinch him when he mounts his rear, cockhead nudging against slick, wrinkled skin. “Now I’m really gonna fuck you up...”

Jin braces himself, expectant, length pulsing at Hwoarang’s promise, a chill riding up his spine when he pushes forward. Jin relaxes as best as he can, trying to make his body accept its fate, resisting the urge to tense up. Hwoarang is slow and considerate in his task, gentle like a lover despite his words, and breaches Jin with care, working his big cock into him with gentle humps and soft shakes of his hips until he’s able to work the tip in.

Jin jumps in place at the discomforting, dull ache that aggravates his hole, but doesn’t let Hwoarang stop, doesn’t want him to. Instead, he breathes deeply, closes his eyes, and grips the sheets, groaning and whining like a baby at the organ that’s quickly stretching him out. He can hear Hwoarang mutter something in his native tongue as he slides the rest of himself inside of Jin, expanding him, hurting him. It’s painful, like he's sitting on a bollard, but he can't help but get off to the way it fills him so quickly.

Against his better judgment, Jin backs into it, sinking on it smoothly, effortlessly, limpid tears rolling over ruddy cheeks when the sting overwhelms him, but damn it all, he needs this man in him as soon as possible.

Hwoarang releases a shuddering breath and meets Jin halfway to give him a break, pelvis pressed flush against plump ass cheeks.

“How ‘bout that...?” Hwoarang adjusts accordingly, caging Jin beneath him when he bends over his slick back. “That hurt enough for you?”

“Y-Yes...” Jin winces, groaning when Hwoarang gives his hole a deep, low hump. “Yes, it does...”

“You’re crying, baby,” Hwoarang reaches over him to sweep his bangs over his head, making his back arch. “Is your cunt too sore?

“No, I w-want this,” Jin bites his lip, balls aching painfully. “I want you...”

“You don’t care if I break it?”

“Please, Hwoarang,” Jin backs into him, eyes closed shut in blissful agony. “Fuck my hole... I can take it.”

Jin accepts a tender caress at the back of his neck that quickly tightens when Hwoarang pulls out, rim of his hole coming with him. Jin sputters, bears with pain that he can only describe as a ring of fire, worsened by descending hips that smack into his ass. It makes him cry louder, but Hwoarang ignores him and fucks him hard and slow, drawing pained moan after pained moan from him with each deep thrust of his cock. Jin grips tightly at the sheets then, eyes wet and red from weed and tears as he bites down into a throw pillow, cock leaking like a faucet. Jin’s instinct is to jerk off, but as soon as he moves his hand, Hwoarang hits him again.

“Told you I was gonna fuck you up, didn’t I?” Hwoarang then grabs his arm to pin it behind his back. “When you come, it’ll be on my dick, bitch.”

Jin moans at Hwoarang’s words, loud and wanton, ass now moving in time with his friend’s cock. Yes, he says to himself, this is what he wanted, what he craved; to be treated like a means to an end. Hwoarang thankfully shows no mercy, is adept at his task, and gives Jin what he wants, reaming him and filling him like his asshole is a real pussy. Jin can’t help but shudder at the sheer eroticism of it all and calls for his pseudo-lover, singing praises of him.

“H-Hwoarang, oh God, Hwoarang...” Jin grits his teeth. “It's t-tearing me apart, it's like it c-can't fit...”

“Hah... Should see how you look back here, baby,” Hwoarang cocks his head, breathless when he gazes upon his swollen hole. “Look so pretty, all bruised and fucked out like this, like you're too small for me.”

“Do you...” Jin cringes, head swirling, unable to think of anything that didn’t involve getting his rocks off. “Do you like how tight it is? My c-cunt...”

“Oh, I love how tight your tiny pussy is, cute and pretty just like you,” Hwoarang forgoes holding his neck to bend over and kiss along his hairline. “Huh? Aren't you pretty, pretty boy?”

“I try to be, I want to be...” Jin grabs for the sheets with his free hand, spine assaulted by sharp tingles and jolts. “I want to do what I can for you...”

“You do, baby, you do,” Hwoarang smirks against his skin. “Such a good, pretty slut, letting me beat this cunt up for free like this...”

“Y-Yesss...” Jin is jostled roughly into the bed, mouth agape and drooling. “Use me, hurt me, fuck me like a whore...”

Hwoarang's cock slides in and out of him so easily now, free of pain, replaced solely by gut-churning pleasure. Hwoarang notices this, how easy it is to fuck his friend's tight asshole, and moves faster, balls spanking Jin’s loins pink. Jin howls, damn near jumps off the bed at that, at the way his prostate is assaulted by Hwoarang's rough fuck, and tries humping the bed again, desperate for relief. He hears Hwoarang curse at him, feels him spank his ass again for acting so slutty, before taking a hard bite from him that sends him into another world.

Jin cries again, this time from mind-numbing, incessant pleasure, and makes a mess of himself, the way Hwoarang wanted him to.

“Fuck...! Oh fuck...!” Jin whines, overstimulated beyond what he was used to. Hwoarang's name falls off of his lips like a mantra, interrupted by hiccups and sniffles brought on by new tears. Hwoarang is quick to wipe them over Jin’s cheek, wetting them, clearly turned on by what he's made of him.

“Did you like that, Kazama? Coming from your asshole?” Hwoarang holds him tight, letting go of Jin’s arm so he could fuck him in a headlock. “God, you look so fucking hot taking my cock in your stud cunt...”

Jin is gasping and panting out something, incoherent babbles of Hwoarang's name and his own pleasures that earn him more love bites and nips along his neck and jawline. His hips meanwhile clap his backside, force of his body rocking his weeping, softening cock against the sheets, until it finally happens.

Hwoarang stills, locking up against Jin’s ass when he fills him with piping hot, thick white seed, muttering sharp, vulgar words in Korean Jin recognizes but can't put a meaning to.

After a few weak pumps of his length, Hwoarang withdraws from him, slick and jism coming with him, leaving Jin empty, loose, and terribly sore.

“Holy shit...” Hwoarang lets go of Jin’s head to lay on him. “Holy fucking shit, I can't move my legs...”

“Ditto...” Jin squirms under the dead weight on his back, but doesn't complain.

“You okay?” He looks at his face again, at the tears that stain his skin. “Didn't hurt too bad?”

“No,” Jin shakes his head, feeling satisfied. “I liked it a lot. I'm probably going to regret it in the morning, but it was worth it.”

“Good,” He feels Hwoarang nod. “Cuz I like it rough, too.”

“I gathered.” Jin then raises a brow. “You weren't holding back were you?”

“Ehh... Maybe a little. I didn't want to tear you apart or anything.”

“That'll be the last time you hold back then...” He wills down his excitement, too exhausted for another round. “Next time this happens, you fuck me like a man.”

“Ha, should watch your mouth, guy,” Hwoarang swipes hair away from Jin’s neck. “I'd love to bite a hole into you, if you let me.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” 

“Shit, if I weren't so spent, I'd fuck your bitch ass till you bleed,” He finds the strength to sit up and crawl off of Jin. “But, I am hungrier than a motherfucker right now, christ...”

“Regretful now, are we?”

“Your fault for not getting it delivered, jackass.”

“Whatever...” Jin rolls his eyes and asks Hwoarang for his phone. “Night's still young, I can still put in an order.”

“Hurry up,” He smacks his ass, bouncing a cheek in his hand as he gives him his phone. “Or Imma eat something else instead.”

Jin shakes him off, a little exasperated at his behavior as per usual, but still feeling plenty happy with himself.

As Hwoarang boots his game back up, still naked as the day he was born, Jin places another order for their food, trying to ignore the come that spills from his hole.

[songmingisthighs]

Ignominy

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. xviii - it's gonna be slutty

hybrid!san × human!reader

tw : explicit sex; unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, risky behaviour

buy me coffee ?

everyone wants to belong, it's basic human need to connect with people around them. what happens when you're responsible for someone who belongs to two worlds but at the same time belongs to neither ? worst part is, what happens when it's your ex ?

You never knew how much of a big deal it would be for you to experience your first halloween as a career woman. And you never knew how much of a headache it was.

Usually, you'd be ready at 4 pm, pre-gaming with one of your best friends, whichever is least busy at the time (so not Hongjoong). But you found yourself changing out of your work clothes into your costume (which you had to admit was a lingerie corset top that you paired with black leather pants and boots for convenience) in your office lobby's bathroom and then having to skitter out to avoid being recognized.

But it was all worth it as not even an hour later you found yourself downing an erotically named shot of alcohol you got from a random patron. For the third time that night.

"God, having bobs must be amazing," Hongjoong said as he stared straight at your boobs. Seonghwa smacked him on his shoulder but Hongjoong just waved him off whilst maintaining eye contact with your boobs as if they were in a staring battle. You rolled your eyes at him but smirked cockily because his statement was fair. "What made you say that my dear dear friend Kim Hongjoong?" you asked in faux innocence. His left eyebrows raised at the tone of your voice as he prepared his answer, "The fact that you can use them as currency at a bar and especially on drunkard's holidays while Seonghwa, Jongho, and I have to whip out our wallets," he stated. Jongho leaned down to talk directly in your ears after he heard Hongjoong's answer, "I thought he was gonna say we'd have to whip out our dicks because I'm pretty sure that'll get us kicked out instead," he joked which made you almost choke on your drink.

To escape the boob conversation, Seonghwa ushered Hongjoong and Jongho away to the toilet so they could relieve themselves before it got dirty(er).

You nursed your now empty shot glass in your hand, twirling the leftover liquid around, seeing how it catches the light. There were no specific thoughts in your head other than the realization of how good it felt to drink after a day of hard work, it felt like a reward you deserved.

"I hope you remember that you're still working tomorrow,"

It was like an automatic response. You weren't even surprised that you immediately recognized the voice even in such a crowded place. That voice has become the trigger to a lot of negative feelings to the point that your first response was to sigh. You turned slightly around to give your boss a tight-lipped smile, "Thanks boss, but I can handle a little poison from time to time," you sarcastically said. "I'm just trying to look out for you because you seem like you're here alone," he sighed, taking a step closer to you to lean on the bar near you. You let out a slow sigh, preparing yourself mentally to converse with San, "Well I'm not. My friends went to the toilet and I didn't want to join them because I don't plan on seeing men peeing in a line. I saw Mingi earlier so.. I'm guessing you're here with your friends too." San pursed his lips and nodded slowly. He then pointed at the VIP section with his thumb, "Wooyoung wanted to get together with some of his other friends," San stated.

Much to your disappointment, San, dressed in his three-piece suit, sat down on the empty bar stool next to you. You had to use all your strength to not roll your eyes at him and remain neutral. It was a festive night for fuck's sake, you'll be damned if you're going to spend it whilst pouting. No way. So you decided to play nice with the man next to you. Worse comes to worst, you'll buy him a drink with an extra something in it. Most likely your spit. If he pisses you off, bar top cocktail.

"What are you supposed to be, though?" You asked, eyeing his... Not costume. He blinked for a second, looking down at his outfit in confusion, "Well... Christian Grey?" he answered sheepishly but in a questioning tone and you couldn't help but scoff at his pathetic attempt at... Whatever he was trying to do. Honest to God, you don't know this man anymore and you couldn't understand him.

Deciding that maybe you should stop talking about his abysmal costume, you decided to steer the interaction somewhere else. Thinking, you knocked your shot glass twice before shooting him a question. "Want a blowjob?" you asked him with a straight face. San almost choked on his own spit as his eyes widened and red rushes to his ears. He began sputtering like an idiot, not knowing how to respond to your offer. It wasn't until a bartender came to give you a shot glass with whipped cream on top and you placed it in front of him that you finally cracked a smirk, "Kahlua, Bailey's and whipped cream, I present to you: The Blowjob." San stared at the shot glass in front of him for a solid ten seconds before looking up at you slowly with a scowl on his face. At that look, you couldn't help but laugh at him genuinely because you found it too funny. "I'm sorry, I just had to," you said in between laughter. Usually, San would hate if people laugh at him, but seeing you looser like this (maybe because you both were not in the office and maybe it's because the alcohol is taking its relaxing effect on you), San only felt his heart thrumming in his chest lightly, like a happy little patter. He even managed to take drink the shot you got him and much to his surprise, he didn't hate it. Soon enough, you both found yourselves downing three more shots each, trying different dirty named shots and even ranking them.

When the music changed, your eyes widened in recognition and you immediately jumped out of your seat, "I love this song, I'm gonna dance," you told him before running off. You barely took a step away when San took your hand in his and stared at you worriedly, "By yourself?" You rolled your eyes at him because he was trying to act all protective when you think he shouldn't have which is annoying. "It's a dance floor, San, not a mosh pit. You should join in too, let loose," you simply said before pulling your hand out of his grasp. Once again, he felt his heart clench as he lost physical contact with you. His eyes followed your figure and while you weren't far, he was still worried. San wanted to join you to make sure you were okay, but he didn't want to make it seem like he was trying to play a protective character. He hesitated for a moment but soon his hesitance melted away completely when he saw a slimy-looking guy approach you from the back with his crotch swivelling and smirk etched permanently on his face, eyes zeroing in on you like a hungry hungry predator. San felt something burning inside of him and his chest vibrating as he was growling without even realizing what he was growling. At the speed of light, San found himself zooming towards you who were swaying to the beat of the song in utter bliss, not knowing what's going on. He immediately slot himself behind you, glaring and baring his teeth at the guy, making sure he understood that he and his advances are not wanted. Luckily, the guy was easily intimidated in his drunken stupor as he immediately waddled away to bother someone else without a half-hybrid ex-boyfriend protecting them.

San was pulled out of his thought when he felt your arms reached back, one hooked around his neck, caressing the short hair at the back, and the other resting on the side of his left thigh. He stiffened up almost immediately, not knowing what to do as he didn't expect you to do that. Well, did you even know that it was him you were being touchy with?

His question was soon answered however when you leaned your head back and stared up at him. Your eyes flicker in surprise momentarily and San was fully expecting you to push him away but instead, you turned to look at him with a hand on his chest, keeping him at an arm's length. "Guess you're not as rigid as I thought you'd be," you smirked, slowly resuming your swaying. San felt his heart quicken seeing you in such a state; maintaining eye contact with him while the light made you look like a glowing seductress. Years passed and yet you still affect him so much. Usually, San didn't like how much you affected him, how you made him feel again. He was so used to being numb and having you around trigger feelings in him and it usually made him uncomfortable. But this time, with you like this, he felt butterflies and warmth spreading in his body.

San rolled his eyes at your remark, "Are you calling me soft?" he scoffed. You shrugged at him whilst changing your moves to be a little more prominent, your body rolling close to his every so often and it was so close that San could just pull you completely against him. "I don't know, am I?" you smirked, taunting him. San's eyes immediately darken, his pupils dilated as the warmth in his body grew to a fire. To your surprise, San leaned down whilst simultaneously pulling you against him, making you gasp slightly, "You don't know how... Rigid... I can be," he growled right into your ears. Your eyes rolled back at the sound of his honey voice and the vibration in his chest.

Right at that moment, with the alcohol clouding your judgement, the dark ambience, and San saying the right things, you decided to throw caution to the winds and let your mouth loose. "Actually, I do know, " you started, right leg slowly slotting itself on San's left hip, causing him to instinctively held it up so your crotches were on each other, "And I also know that you didn't bring me to orgasm last time," you poked. Usually, San would get upset whenever someone brought up his accident, but this time it felt different.

Before you know it, San was hauling you away to the bar, slapping some cash on the counter, and calling for the bartender. Initially, you thought you had upset San by bringing up the past, you thought he was angry. "San, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" you were unfortunately cut off by San pulling you into him by the back of your neck, forcing your faces so close to each other that you could taste the sweetness of the liqueur he downed on his breath, "I'm finishing what I started five years ago," he declared confidently.

His words penetrated your mind deeply as suddenly everything became a blur. You remembered San closing the tab you and he made and you looking around for your friends and only managing to catch glimpses of them here and there, you didn't even remember checking out your coats. It wasn't until you heard San telling the driver that he'll give him double the fare to punch it that you realized you were in a taxi. "No, let's just go to my place, it's closer than yours," you blurted out once your brain has re-synced with reality. San smirked at your eagerness and nodded at the taxi driver as a signal for him to go. Once the car began moving, San pulled your body close to his as he ducked his face to start peppering kisses around the skin of your neck and collarbone, "You're a horny, desperate whore, aren't you?" he chuckled darkly, seemingly taking pride in your state. You bit your bottom lip to hold back a groan, not wanting the driver to hear what you were both doing in the back despite being sure that he DEFINITELY knows what was going on.

As San preoccupy himself with marking your skin with his sharp teeth and incessant sucking of his lips, your hands found purchase on his person; one hang was enjoying the feeling of the hair on the back of his head grazing against the skin of your palm as the other slip into his coat to clutch at his suit jacket. Out of the corner of his eyes, San was watching how your body reacted to him, to his touch, to his work on you. It pleased him to feel your chest heaving, your breath stuttering at the feeling of his mouth teasing the perfect spot, your thighs rubbing together to both create friction and hold yourself from completely jumping his bones in a car that belongs to neither of you. San loved the sound you were making and the scent of your increasing arousal was just addictive to him. All he could think of his how much he wants more of it. More of you.

A gasp escape your lips before you could even stop yourself when you felt San's hand slipping between your legs, thumb slowly rubbing against your clit. The pressure felt enthralling and adding to the fact that you were so close to getting what you want but you have your clothes getting in the way, it just made your pleasure even more pleasurable, it made you desperate. San's lips vibrated with his laughter when he saw you throwing your head back in embarrassment after your slip up, "Pathetic," he stated, catching your attention, "You're so horny that a little stimulation riled you up this bad. You ARE just a horny horny bunny, aren't you?" he taunted. Your bottom lip quivered, wanting to answer him but the stimulation in your pussy made it impossible for you to string a coherent response. Seeing this, San didn't let your mind do much as he moved faster with his finger and his lips traveled up to nip at your earlobe.

Just as you were about to tell San to just rip the crotch of your pants, the cab stopped and the driver announced (rather uncomfortably) that you both had arrived. Both you and San moved at the speed of light; you got out of the car and him paying the driver carelessly, handing him some bills without looking and telling him to keep the change. You quickly pulled San to your apartment building, throwing a simple "hi" at the security guard as you and him scurry away as if you both were on fire. As you got into the elevator, you made haste and took off your coat and proceeded to push San's off of his body. Thankfully, the elevator arrived at your floor before you decided to just strip naked in a public area.

It felt like a race between you, your libido, and your patience. You desperately needed to get fucked and the buzz from the alcohol only allowed you to focus on that. You didn't even have the patience to make sure that San was right behind you (which thankfully he was) and you only acknowledged his presence when you were inputting your code into the keypad of your lock. He had pressed himself so close to you, you swore you could feel the warmth of his dick from his dress pants pressing against your ass. His hands were roaming around your body as his teeth busied themselves with tugging at the shell of your ear.

As soon as your door opened, you and San stumbled inside, taking off your shoes in the process. While San was slower with his moves, what with having to lean down to take off his shoes and put them away properly, you on the other hand had expertly taken off your boots and simply thrown them away somewhere you couldn't care less. When San was finally able to store his shoes away, he came to find you only in your corset top, bunny ears, and panties, your pants, your coat, his coat that you had yanked off from the taxi, and bag had been thrown away haphazardly around the place but you didn't seem like you were even thinking about them. You were looking at him, slightly heaving, but with a lust-filled look. San stood off not far from where you were with a smug look on his face; a smirk adorning his sharp features followed by a chuckle that made your spine tingle and core ache. "You really are an impatient whore, aren't you? You've even made sure you're fuck ready," he said, pointing at your panties that matched your corset. You rolled your eyes at him as you slowly took several steps back, closer and closer to your room, "Of course, I WAS planning on getting absolutely fucked out of my mind by anyone." It seemed that San didn't like your words as his face dropped to a scowl and he immediately rip his tie and suit jacket off, leaving the tie in his grip as he stalked closer to you. "So you were about to seek release from anyone willing? Carelessly?" he growled which made you smirk. "Yes, you were not even on my choice list. I actually had my eyes on a guy in the dance floor but you were just so easy to get," you taunted, lying in the process about the other guy just to see what San might do.

With a last huff, San dashed forward to grab at your body with a firm yet careful grip. He pushed you into your dark room, not caring about the darkness and before your body hit your bed, San set his eyes on yours with a menacing glare that only made your pussy throb, "I'll make you fucking forget that guy."

All of a sudden, you found yourself bouncing off your bed and San pouncing on top of you, careful to not crush you but close enough that you could feel San's breath and his hand moving to unbutton his shirt. His chest rumbled as he let out a chuckle, eyeing you in your position under him, "Oh, I'm going to have so much fun," he said. San quickly pulled your arms above your head to tie them together with his tie. The knot didn't seem professional but it was tight enough that you weren't able to completely get away but you knew that if you tried hard enough, you could break free. But what's the fun in that?

You were about to taunt him when you felt the fabric of your panties ripping and the air hit your naked core. You gasped when San's hand made contact with your pussy as he delivered a slap to it. "Hey! You ruined my sexy pair!" You whined, trying to bite your moan down when he placed his thumb directly on your pussy lips. San flitted his eyes to you momentarily before returning his gaze directly at your pussy, making you momentarily shy which caused you to try to close your legs. However, San wouldn't let you as his strong hands placed themselves on your knees and spread them open widely.

From your knees, San's hands carefully and steadily travel down to rest at the junction of your thighs, his thumbs going back to your pussy lips to spread them open gently to expose more of you to him. You felt your breath hitch as you watched his moves, realizing that it felt familiarly intimate. With one last look, San let out a warning, "Don't cum yet."

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head once San began eating you out like a madman, The way his tongue lapped at your flowing juices suggested obsession and addiction over hunger. The scent you exude overpowered San's senses and this was even more than what he expected when he had his taste of you in the cab. The moans you let out when his lips nibbled your little bundle of nerve, every sharp breath and every high-pitched noise made San's dick twitch. All he wanted was to have you, claim you as his, he wanted you as a whole so he didn't have to part with the feeling he was having. Out of all the feelings you had ever given him, this was his favourite.

You on the other hand were a moaning mess. Out of your own pleasure, you reached down to grip San's hair despite your hands being tied together. But as your fingers made contact with San;s hair, he snapped his head up, detaching his lips from your cunt which made you whine in protest. "Keep your hands where I left them, slut and if you disobey me again, I won't let you cum at all tonight," he growled, glaring at you with so much authority and demand that it made your heart skip a beat. With eyes widened, you nodded in obedience before lifting you arms up again, trying your damn best to eep them there as to not piss San off. Although he seemed to be perfectly fine with your hips moving on their own accords, grinding against his face, smearing your arousal on his chin. You were sure that you were dripping at this point but San didn't seem too care much. Heck, if you could read his mind, you'd notice that he in fact wish he could drown in it. When you peeked down at him, you noticed that San seemed to be enjoying himself just as much as (or even more than) you. Whilst feasting on your cunt, he was humping your bed simultaneously. His hips gyrating and swivelling as he pressed down on the soft mattress to seek pleasure.

Your thoughts broke when San sat up abruptly to yank his pants off. You stared at him slowly baring his glorious, naked self in front of you. But nothing could prepare you when you finally see his cock once again. When he let his penis free from its confinement, slapping on his stomach in its rigid glory, you couldn't help but bit your bottom lip and let your legs spread even wider invitingly. The lines of his toned body accentuate every curve he has and even through the darkness, you were able to appreciate his beauty. He, who has become more mature and more beautiful over the years and you yearn for him. Or at least, you yearn for his body.

"I have to have you," San said as he slowly crawled back on top of you, one hand on his dick, working himself a little more as he prepared to enter you. As he moved, the light from your living room managed to catch his form and there you saw a sheen on the tip of his dick. You exhaled shakily, feeling the need to have him in your mouth so you could have a taste. But the throbbing in your pussy said that it needs San inside it, it wants to have his cum inside it and it wants every last drop. You licked your bottom lip and intentionally let out a pornographically pathetic-sounding whine that made San's cock twitch, "Then fucking have me, San. Make me finally cum after five years of waiting."

In a blink of an eye, San had pressed his tip at your entrance. It was surprisingly heavier than you remember and the pressure alone was already giving you stimulation. "San," you called out to him, eyes meeting his that has been looking at you the whole time. "Please," you pleaded, eyes glistening from being overwhelmed with pleasure. It was all it take for San to crash his lips on yours, melding them together as he pushed in. You were sure you were squealing into San's mouth when you finally feel his whole length and girth entering you at a painstakingly slow pace. You could feel every ridge of his cock from the smooth head down to the bumps of the vein decorating it. It wasn't an exaggeration when you say you could draw San's penis precisely from just having him inside your pussy. It felt like forever before you could finally feel his hips meeting yours before you felt the tip of it pressing onto your cervix. As your chest heaved at the feeling, San's eyes rolled back as he let a shuddered exhale of his breath and his arms give out momentarily, letting his body experience the overwhelming comfort of your warmth around him, not realizing that with him filling you perfectly, the weight of his body completely enveloping you was turning your brain into mush.

It was you who made the first move, hips lifting upwards to create some friction inside you. The more you move, the more you crave. But with San's body weight on top of you and your arms being tied above your head, you couldn't do as much as you want. "San, please," you whined out of frustration, "Please, I need you to fuck me!"

Slowly, you could feel San starting to move. His hips began rutting into you as his arms slowly anchored his body all the while his lips found purchase on your chest, peppering kisses on the skin and occasionally leaving marks and a trail of saliva in random paterns. As much as he wanted to take your corset off, your pussy was incapacitating his brain.

Moans started leaving your mouth when San began picking up the pace of his hips. With his body no longer anchoring you down (much to your disappointment), San was able to move more freely. The initial grinding turned into his penis dragging in and out of your pussy so deliciously. "O-oh fu- fuck," you gasped when San angled his hips slightly as he thrust in, accidentally hitting the spot in you that made your spine tingle. "Again, please," you begged, eyes closing to bask in the pleasure he was giving you. Just as your eyelids closed, San clicked his tongue and grabbed your chin, forcing you to open your eyes again. "You better keep your eyes open, I want you to see me making my mark in your pussy," he demanded. His words sent a wave of pleasurable shock into your pussy and he could tell that you were affected by his words from the way your pussy immediately clench.

Much to your surprise and disappointment, San slipped himself out of you. You gasped in annoyance and were about to give him a piece of your mind when he pushed you up and back against your headboard, arms were uselessly thrown up. His hands firmly pushed your legs open and up against you as if he was folding you in half before hastily reentering you in one fluid movement. The impact was quick, clean, and effective as it caused you to see stars.

San wasted no time in fucking you with his hands anchored on your knees to keep your legs wide open for him. His hips snapped just right and the new position allowed him to reach even deeper in you, much deeper than the deepest "deeper" you thought you had in you. San was thrusting in so ferociously with so much power that you basically turned into a mere ragdoll. Your body was rocking with the impact, head hitting your (thankfully) cushioned headboard as your arms fell onto San's shoulders. The man before you was grunting as he focused on his work, trying to do what he had promised from the beginning.

It was a good thing that San ate you out prior to having him fuck you like such. You knew you would still feel sore the next day, but both your arousal and his truly helped his movements.

Soon enough, you felt the building pleasure slowly reaching its maximum point. At this point, you could even feel the initial taste of your incoming release. "S-San, I- I'm so-o- so close," you managed out, head lolling forward to rest on San's shoulders, eyes shutting tightly to try to focus on the feeling of you slowly tipping over. You couldn't see it, but you felt San nodding, "I'm gonna cum in you," he said, letting you know his plan to which you couldn't complain one bit. San managed shift your legs slightly in a position you couldn't muster for the life of you. Whatever he did, it managed to made you scream in pleasure. You couldn't care less if your neighbours heard you at that point, you were finally getting a quality dick and you deserved it 100%. The sound of you being so loud stroked San's ego as he began hitting you with more force but less frequency. Each hit was precise and served as a tall-tale sign of him wanting to completely feel your release.

Luckily for him, it only took him two more harsh thrusts into you before your pussy gripped onto his dick like a vice, your legs involuntarily closing in and trapping San's body in its place while you experience the most intense and the best release you have ever experienced in your life that it made your toes curl.

San tried to thrust in a couple more times, wanting to feel your tightness around him before he released his load but he wasn't able to. Despite that, he couldn't really complain, not when he could feel you being filled completely to the brim by him. The warmth of his release and your mixing made his cock twitch inside you and the twitch of his cock was enough to make you whine from overstimulation.

The both of you stayed in that position for a bit, unable to do much else other than try to catch your breaths. San was the first one to pull away though. He did it in steps; starting from reaching back to pull his tie off of your arms, allowing them to drop limply to your sides, then his body, allowing more air to be accessible to you, and then finally he pulled his softening dick out of you, making you shudder from the friction. As San dropped to the other side of the bed, you slowly sat up to go to the toilet, trying to fight your fatigue in favour of cleaning yourself before letting sleep take over you.

Despite the darkness of the room, San was able to make out your disappearing figure. When you disappear into the bathroom in your room, one thought dawned on San's head, a thought that made him crack the first genuine smile he gave himself in a long, long while.

He didn't hurt you. You both had sex and he didn't hurt you.

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[specialagentlokitty]

Ziva x reader - the gentle gangster

undercover ziva and gender neutral reader if you're up for it? perferably with some hinted autism too! either way, happy holidays!!! - Anon💜

Sitting behind the security guards in the quiet bar, you hummed lightly to yourself at the music that was playing, and looked over to your father.

“Yes?” He asked quietly.

He held a hand up to the other man he was talking to and turned to face you.

“He’s lying to you.” You mused.

Your father furrowed his brows and turned to the other man, the other man laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck.

“Come on, you really don’t believe that Ozzy, right?”

“I believe anything my kid tells me, they’ve never led me astray.”

One of the guards turned around and walked in, grabbing the man by his shirt and dragged him back across the lines.

“Call the new recruit over.”

They did and you watched as the woman came over, her eyes flicking between you all.

“Yes sir?” She asked.

“Ziva, I want you to teach this asshole to never lie to me again, and I want the money he owes me in three days.”

“Please! I need more time!”

“We don’t make deals with lairs.” Ziva hissed.

She dragged the man away and you stood up, hands clasped behind your back as you followed her.

Ziva immediately noticed you following her and she sighed quietly, she was hoping to just lightly beat the guy up and turn him loose, but with you there she didn’t have a choice.

She dragged him outside and tossed him to the floor, landing a swift kick to his stomach.

You watched for a few minutes before you stepped forward, stopping her from hitting him any further.

“Leave him.”

Ziva nodded her head and followed you back inside.

She would come to notice of the upcoming months how you would carefully watch her or follow her, at first she put it down to you being suspicious.

Which you were.

But as she walked into the large home, she stopped when she saw you walking down the stairs, adjusting the tie around you neck with a heavy frown.

“I was called here?” She asked.

“Yes, there is a formal party and you will be my security serial at request of my father. There is dresses or suits upstairs, whichever you choose.”

Ziva nodded her head and went to get ready, sending a quick message to Vance letting him know about what was going on before she browsed the dresses.

She picked one that could easily hide weapons and tried it on, smoothing it down and sitting patiently while some maids tended to her hair and makeup before she went downstairs.

Guest were just starting to arrive, and you were stood at the bottom of stairs.

Seeing her, you looked her up and down before giving a small nod and smiled.

“Perfect, did my father update you on the details?”

“No.”

You sighed and pulled her aside in a different room, explaining who would be there, why, and what the party was for and her role in it.

Once everything was all cleared up Ziva guided you into the ballroom, leading you over to your father.

Ziva had to keep her distance, but she kept her eye on you as well.

You stayed close to your father, even as he talked to his supposed business partners and made deals throughout the night.

A few hours passed by, and Ziva noticed you tapping your side, shuffling a little bit on your feet struggling to pay attention to anything.

Walking over, she leant close.

“May I speak with you outside?” She asked quietly.

“Yes, of course.”

You followed Ziva out to the back, buttoning your blazer jacket up as you folded your arms across your chest.

“What’s the matter?”

Ziva gulped a little, she had never been scared, but you held a lot of power, and she saw what you did for lairs, and without a way to call for backup she would have a struggle fending for herself.

Sighing, she shook her head a little bit.

“You just seemed to be having a hard time inside, uncomfortable.”

You hummed, resting your arms on the balcony as you rested your chin in them.

“I’m not a fan of these events.”

“Why do you attend?”

You looked over at her before looking back over the lightly lit room.

“I have to, I’ll be taking over the business when my father retires, I have to earn the respect of the others.”

Ziva nodded her head in understanding.

She turned around and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back on the balcony.

It was silent for a few minutes. You felt the nerves leaving your body, and you were slowly relaxing.

“Thank you Ziva, I did have my doubts about you, but I have no doubt you’ll be with us for a long time.”

Standing up, you removed one of the rings from your right hand, you held it out to her, giving her a warm smile.

“Consider this as a good gesture, a token of my appreciation for you and everything you’ve done. You have the up most respect in this family.”

Ziva gently took the ring and put it on, giving you a small smile.

“Come inside when you’re ready.”

With that, you left, and Ziva sighed heavily, looking at the ring that now adorned one of her fingers.

Regret started to fill her, you had so much trust and appreciation for her, and she was going to be throwing it away in a few months once the op was completed.

You were gentle and caring, unlike your father, he was ruthless and uncaring.

She had grown fond of you, and the way you cared for everyone that was part of the family, and the younger recruits, maybe she could try get you out of trouble, warn you somehow or keep you from being out away.

Yes, your family was single handed my responsible for the betray of many navel personally, and one of the biggest money and arms trainers in the state, but you weren’t interested in that.

She knew of your plan to stop all of that, and stick to money laundering which wasn’t great, but it was a lot better

[cerastes]

IS3 question: how do you deal with emergency Out of Control on higher Waves numbers with any sort of consistency? Or like, even at all, outside a run with perfect collectibles?

The bonethrowers start strutting toward the exit with around 35% of their big ass HP bars left, and they just about onehit even my strongest units, so it’s extremely difficult to get any damage on them before they decide it’s time to head out and take your whole squad with them.

I can’t even begin to imagine how I’d build my squad to accommodate this stage given all the other killers you have to deal with and the strain on your resources. Any advice?

On higher Waves, like 12 and above, the best strategy is really to avoid Out of Control as best as you can. Dealing with it with no losses on higher Waves is pretty difficult, it is in fact one of the hardest maps, period, due to the way the stat multipliers just send the very high stats of the berserkers into space, and it's a pretty demanding map in terms of roles. It's not impossible but when doing Out of Control at highers Waves, always be prepared to lose a few Lives if it means clearing, as opposed to trying to not lose any and crumbling entirely. Taxes Omertosa and Kirin Yato S3s are good due to their ability to deal good damage safely, Fortresses (Horn, Firewhistle, Ashlock) are very good since they can be more freely deployed than ranged units (who initially only have the right tile and the mid upper tile) and have great range and damage, making them good at killing Bonethrowers. Paired with other damage dealers, Muelsyse Melee S3 and Eunectes S2 are great since they Stun blocked enemies for the duration of the Skill, making the rushers way more manageable. Pozy S3 is extremely good here due to the Typewritter. Trapmasters like Dorothy and Robin kick their asses with CC mines due to their high Physical damage and ability to keep them in place, as well as Out of Control having great Trapmaster tiles. Global attackers like Goldenglow and Ambriel work well on lower Waves, but not too well later unfortunately, due to their ballooning RES and HP being too much for them, respectively. Shifters have a bit of a hard time since the rushers' only real big lane to push them far into is the upper row which is well covered by Bonethrowers, so they only really pay dividends if you have ways to kill the Bonethrowers relatively quickly.

In terms of gameplan, you usually want the center and upper right Bonethrowers eliminated ASAP, while throwing excess means of damage at the left ones. Secure the right side to cover for fodder, take the right ranged tile and aim left or up to kill the Bonethrowers with a Marksman or anything that can reach (Fortresses can do this from Melee tiles), and use the mid upper ranged tile to the left to target whichever Bonethrower you aren't attacking first (I recommend aiming the top ranged unit to the right so that way they have better coverage of the rushers once the times comes). From here on, it really depends on what you're packing, but you ideally clear the map from right to left, and save skills as best you can for rushers. If you don't think you can avoid losing Lives, just pop skills to kill the earliest rushers and deal with the situation as it evolves.

Certain items make this map MUCH easier, like Civilight Eterna (their innate health loss is in fact True Damage, and it is amplified by Civilight), reduce enemy HP items in general (their innate health loss is a flat value, Bonethrowers lose 350 HP per sec, Leaders (aka rushers) lose 500 HP per sec, and their big HP pools makes the % based reduction good), Glory Pack if you have plenty of Fast Redeploy units like Executioners and Merchants (essentially lets you stunlock them!), Fincatcher's Shawl literally wins you the map instantly and is the best Out of Control item unless you have no ranged units at all, End of Times is, well, for obvious reasons, really good for this map lmao, and anything that extends CC duration especially if you combo with items that inflict damage while CC'd assuming you have consistent sources of CC. There's more utilities but those are the ones I rely upon personally.

Higher Waves Out of Control, not even the Emergency version, is an infamous run-ender. I personally handle it by sacrificing a few lives early if I can afford it to the first couple of rushers so I can bring out a strong latemap composition into the field, take out the second pair of mid and upper Bonethrowers, and then open the map up with units fresh and ready to cover the killer upper lane. I wish I could give you Magic Killer Strat but it's a difficult map that you never know really well what you'll have going into it. Hell, I try to make my Operator examples in these of varying rarities, but you can see how I mostly used 6* Operators as examples.

[musi-creatively]

Just a Breakup 2

Part 1

"What do you mean I can't be here?" Villain demanded.

They'd darted into a familiar, and currently crowded, bar. Hopefully Hero wouldn't find them in the chaos anytime soon... but only if they didn't get kicked out.

Bartender sighed and sat down the glass he was wiping. "You don't got cash, and even if you did you don't have your i.d.! We ain't running a charity here!"

"I used to be a regular! Preston can vouch for me."

Bartender's eyes rolled, "Preston don't own the place anymore. He sold it and cut ties!"

"What?" Then Villain remembered, "Oh! Wait. Right. He wanted to go clean after he and his husband adopted that kid."

They'd been at the wedding. Preston had friends from all sides. There were some tensions, but thankfully no fights... Though that might've been because Hero and Sidekick were playing interference all night. It was the first time they'd seen Hero out of uniform.

"Exactly!" Bartender huffed, "So now we gotta follow the new boss' rules."

Villain snapped back to the present, "Who's the new boss?"

"That would be me."

Villain didn't even have to turn to know the voice.

Supervillain took a seat at the bar with his drink. "Breathe, Moonlight."

Villain hadn't realized they were holding their breath.

"What can I do for you, boss?" Bartender asked.

Supervillain smiled, "How about we start with getting my friend here a drink. Do you still prefer light and fruity?"

"Um, yes. That's fine." Friend. Villain felt a bit of pain at the label he'd given.

Bartender nodded and got to work.

Supervillain turned to Villain. "So! What's got you back in this part of town?"

"That's complicated." They admitted.

He sipped his drink. "Oh? Just tired complicated, or on the run complicated?"

Villain flinched. "I am tired, but... On the run complicated."

"Really? I heard you've been hanging off a Sunbeam. Why couldn't you go to them?"

Sunbeams. Supervillain's term for heroes. Blindingly bright and equally as likely to burn you.

Villain had been in the sun too long.

"Ah- they're the reason I'm on the run." They sighed, "I don't really want to talk about it here."

Supervillain nodded. "What about your home?"

"Compromised. They know the escape maze."

"I see."

Bartender slid Villain their drink.

"Thank you."

"Don't worry about it."

And then Bartender was gone, waved over by a customer farther down.

"I didn't know you bought this place." They changed the subject.

"Yes, that was rather obvious." He laughed.

Oh how they'd missed his laugh.

"Can I ask why?"

"You just did." He leaned onto his elbows. "But, sure. There were a lot of reasons. I was planning to come back anyway, Preston wanted it to be someone he could trust, I already had most of the connections he was cutting... It made the transition smoother for everyone involved."

Villain nodded.

"Do you have somewhere to go after this, Moonlight?" He asked.

"What?!" They jumped a little in their seat.

"You said your house is compromised, right?"

Oh. Right.

"Right! Yeah. That." Villain took a long sip of their drink as the embarrassed panic was replaced with real panic.

They didn't. Hero knew all of their safe houses. It was information shared in case of emergencies, but now they regretted it. And without their wallet....

"I could get you a hotel room for the time being?" He offered. "Or you could stay with me. Whichever is more comfortable for you."

That was both the best and worst thing they could do.

"I don't want to drag you into this more than you are already!"

His eyebrows raised, "And how am I 'already' involved?"

"That's-"

"Complicated?"

They breathed out. "Yeah."

"Would you follow me somewhere if it wasn't outside of this building?"

"Yes." They said faster than intended.

"Then follow me."

@holygoddessofvictory @laffy-taffy-creations @creweemmaeec11

[w0lp3rtinger]

Sneaking Santa

WOOO!

I was part of the Secret Shadamy Santa! This secret gift was for @Mikudecora!

I give a lot of credit to @killingthecringe, who helped me edit this.

You can also read it over on DeviantArt!

Happy belated holiday season! P.S.- Both @shadamyheadcanons and @lambpaca call Shadow’s chao Rosie. Both have influenced me greatly, as you can see XD I thank these two for the lovely brain food.

---

Amy whined, covering her face with her hands as her head lolled back. “I don’t know what to get them!” 

“Girl, I keep telling you, just give them money.” 

“Nooo!”

“Then I can’t help you.”

Amy huffed, letting her hands fall into her lap as she shot a glare at Rouge. The orange light of sunset made the apartment of black and white decor glow, and the gold trimmings Rouge had scattered about seemed to burn. It was fashionable, classy, the exact sort of apartment owned by a woman who recommended cash for a Christmas present.

Amy still wasn’t sure why she thought Rouge would be able to give good advice about this. 

“Shadow’s your friend, aren’t they?” 

Rouge cocked an eyebrow at that. “I’d like to think so, seeing how they live here.” 

“So, wouldn’t you know something about their interests and hobbies? Or something they’ve said they need?” 

“Yes.” 

Amy sat up straighter, “So why don’t you tell me what those things are and-” 

“No.” 

“Oh come on!” 

Rouge rolled her eyes. Kicking her feet up and onto the coffee table between them, she pulled a nail file from the end table by her elbow and began filing her nails. “Shadow is so particular that nothing I could assume they would like would be guaranteed a successful gift.” 

“It can’t be that bad.” 

“Amy, they took twelve minutes testing pens at the stationary store before they finally bought a pack.” 

Amy pursed her lips. “T-... twelve minutes?” 

“Yeah, and that’s the low bar.” Rouge smirked, “Another time, they went to four different stores to find socks that they liked. Won’t tell you how long that took, but I’m sure you can imagine.” 

Amy gripped her knees, shaking her head as she did so. Rouge laughed. “How’s that gift of cold hard cash looking now?” 

“Not doing it, Rouge,” Amy ground out. “Not doing it.” 

Amy ran her tongue along her teeth as Rouge rolled her eyes. She watched as Rouge flourished her nail file before starting on another finger. 

“Listen,” Rouge said with a huff, “You got the short end of the stick when you pulled Shadow for the Secret Santa. And I won’t lie and tell you that I’m sorry because I’m not. I rigged it. Thought it would be funny, and it is still absolutely funny, but the way you’re moping and whining is starting to get pathetic.” 

Amy hit her knees with her fists. “I’m not whining!” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes!” 

“Could have fooled me.” 

With a sigh, Amy shook her head. “No, I’m not whining because I haven’t given up yet, and I’m not giving up until I’ve run out of time or options… whichever comes first.” 

Rouge pursed her lips. “Jeez… rather die-hard of you, considering it’s just a Christmas present.”  

“It’s- Rouge, it’s because it’s Christmas that I gotta try extra hard!” 

“Sweetheart, they don’t even celebrate Christmas.” 

“But if they’re going out of their comfort zone to do a Secret Santa, and they work so hard for a holiday they don’t celebrate, it’ll be even worse when they don’t get a present they actually like!” 

Rouge snorted, waving her hand lazily even as Amy glared. 

“Rouge, have you ever gotten a gift from someone you think should know you, and it’s bad? Like, it’s just a bad gift?” 

Rouge raised an eyebrow at that, shaking her head. Amy sighed as she slouched into the couch. 

“It’s… awful.” 

Amy chuckled, watching as Rouge pursed her lips tightly. 

“A person who knows you should know what to get you, even if it’s just…time.” Amy said, gesturing between them, “Like- the promise to pay for dinner the next time you guys go out to a place you like. But when someone gives you something that’s totally not you? You have to wonder if they know you, and that sort of… hurts.��� 

Rouge cocked an eyebrow at that. “Can’t say I relate.” 

“That’s because everyone just gets you gemstones.” 

“I’m an easy lady to shop for.” Rouge said with a shrug. “Or steal for. I’m not picky on how I get my gifts.” 

“Ugh, you would say that. I don’t even want to know what advice you’ve given Shadow for this Secret Santa thing,” Amy said as she rolled her eyes. “But… Do you know who they got?” 

“Yes.” 

Amy opened her mouth only for Rouge to hold up a finger. 

“No, I am not telling you.” 

“Rude,” Amy huffed, “Why?” 

“Ruins the sport of it.” 

“Why are you like this?” 

Rouge smiled, “A girl’s gotta have a hobby.” 

Amy ran a hand through her quills as she scoured the carpet for answers only to catch her eye on the very edge of a book sticking out from under the couch. Using her foot, she slid it gently out from the darkness where the dying sunlight coming through the window caught the gilded title. 

Amy cocked her head, picking up the book. “They like classical literature?” 

“What makes you ask that?” 

“Well,” she turned the book cover towards Rouge, “You don’t really strike me as someone who would read, ‘The Nutcracker and the Mouse King,’ no offense.” 

Rouge shrugged as she went back to filing her nails. Amy couldn’t help but let her attentions drift as she admired the cover, letting her fingers fall over the well-loved cloth binding.

Amy had never really thought about it before, but somehow, it felt right that Shadow would enjoy these children’s stories. The atmosphere and softness of them, as horrifying as some of the older ones could be, suited them in a way she could not form into words. 

Amy paused. 

“Rouge,” she said, “What would you do if I asked to go into Shadow’s room?” 

“What for?” 

“To, um-” she looked at the cover again, away from Rouge, “to put this book back. I’m sure they didn’t mean to leave it out here.” 

Rouge leveled her with a look. “They always leave their books under the couch. Try again.” 

Amy pursed her lips then, looking out the window. “I just… had the thought… that there’s a lot to Shadow that they don’t often really showcase.” 

“Yeah? And water’s wet. So what?” 

“So the one place that a person usually lets themselves relax and be them is their bedroom.” 

Rouge smirked. “Oh, so you want to go snooping and see if you can get some ideas for their Christmas present?” 

“It’s not snooping!” 

“It’s snooping.” 

“Just- ugh-” Amy forced herself to relax her grip on the book, lest she break its spine, “Can I go in or not?”

Rouge pointed over her shoulder with the nail file, still smirking at Amy, “Second door on the left.” 

Amy stood up from the couch, then paused, “They… won’t be mad, will they?” 

“At you? No.” Rouge shook her head, her smile curling in that mischievous way Amy had learned meant trouble.

“Will they get mad at you?” 

“Oh, that I don’t care about.” 

“You sure?” 

“Pinkey, I’ve no idea when they’re getting back, so I suggest you quit your quibbling and get moving.”  

Amy squeaked, jumping to attention before bolting for Shadow’s bedroom door. She could hear Rouge laughing behind her as she fumbled the doorknob and slipped inside. 

The room was dim, almost dark, and the smell of lavender and lemon wood polish hit her like a wave. She blinked frantically as she tried to get her eyes to adjust. The only light available was the frail beams of sun that wormed their way around closed curtains, but slowly, slowly she could begin to see the room before her. 

“Woah…” 

Amy took one step, then another, looking about her as she did so. The bed was small and built of dark wood, but stacked high with thick, heavy blankets in muted colours. She couldn’t help but touch one, her white gloves stark against the soft heather green, and from where she stood, she could see the very edge of the sheets poking out at the top of the duvet, smiling at the line of yellow roses there. However, that was nothing upon realizing that at the foot of their bed was a small cradle, filled with a thick blanket. 

“They got Rosie a bed?” Amy gasped, her free hand coming up to cover her mouth as she squealed. “Oh chaos, how cute is that?” 

After finally pulling herself away, she got to inspect the matching nightstand, who’s lower shelf was filled to the brim with notebooks. On top sat a bright yellow notebook, still in use with a pen tucked in as a makeshift bookmark, next to a study lamp and clock. Across from the bed stood two bookshelves, also dark wood, also absolutely packed with books and little odds and ends. Everything there was arranged in neat rows and stacks, all placed with a purpose Amy could not fathom. There was no dresser, but there was a closed closet door, tucked into a corner that led to the space behind the bed which was covered with what looked to be an amalgamation of cork boards. 

That’s when she turned and gasped. The wall where the door stood had a mirror that was surrounded with calendars, notes, and tacked-up paper. It was all organized, somehow, but not in a way she could readily understand. She squinted at the cramped cursive and frowned. 

“They write like they went to catholic school,” she muttered, barely making out the details of an appointment for a bike inspection. The hand holding Shadow’s book folded close to her chest as she leaned in. “It’s a wonder anyone can read this…” 

She bit her lip, looking towards the door as she did so. Drumming her fingers against the book, Amy hopped from one foot to the other before quickly rushing towards the bookshelves. She traced her finger along the wood as she read the titles, only to be distracted by the little trinkets blocking her view. She blinked, smiling as she picked up a slip of paper and squinted to make out the print. 

“Is this a movie ticket?” 

Amy flipped it over, surprised to find more of Shadow’s cramped handwriting. 

‘September 13th, 20XX, 1400

Spirited Aloft

All present

Movie good

Popcorn was soggy, terrible

Amy laughed at your joke.’ 

She quirked an eyebrow, unable to help but smile that Shadow still wrote down the specifics of the film even though they were printed on the ticket. Then, she paused, mouth parting slowly as her brow furrowed. ‘Amy laughed at your joke,’ she mouthed as she reread the words. 

Was Shadow talking about when they threatened to shove Sonic in the popcorn machine if he didn’t stop talking during the film? Amy stifled a giggle as she remembered how irate they had gotten. To be fair, she had been pretty frustrated too. She couldn’t remember how Shadow had phrased the threat, but in the moment, it had been so funny she had actually choked on her drink. 

Guess that meant something to them.  

Smiling, she put the ticket down, only to frown at how they had phrased the comment. 

‘Your joke.’ Not, ‘my joke,’ but, ‘your joke.’

Amy’s eye caught the notebooks near the bed again, then back to the door. 

She paused, listening intently. The grip she had on the book in her hands caused the binding to creek. Still, she heard no no sound from outside. 

Amy swiftly moved back to the wall by the door, the paper fluttering from her speed as leaned in to read. 

‘Dec 6th, 20XX 0300. You have a meeting with Towers. FOLLOWUP: Meeting was about Previous Mission. Notes Given. Notes Recorded in Journal 7, Page 125. Read before Next Mission. Next meeting will be Jan 4th.’

‘August 4th, 20XX 0800. You took your chao, Rosie, to the park. You learned today that she does not like the green chao with seal-like features. For future reference, keep them apart.’

‘September 23rd, 20XX 1900. Amy Rose’s birthday party. You have her gift wrapped and in your closet next to your socks. 

DO NOT FORGET. 

Notes will be recorded in Journal 7, page 162.

FOLLOWUP: You have Amy Rose as your Secret Santa Gift Recipient. Refer to Recorded Notes on page 162. New Notes will be on Board 1. Followup to follow post-Christmas Part, Dec 24th. ’ 

Amy hummed, holding the note about her birthday carefully by the tips of her fingers before letting it go, watching as it flitted against the wall before going still. Once again, she eyeballed the journals by their nightstand. Why would they record notes on their birthday? What notes were they taking now, since they were her Secret Santa? 

Amy bit her lip, then shook her head. No, no she would not do that to them. She would not read their journals, though it was becoming terribly tempting. However… 

Amy drifted towards the closet door, where the cork boards had been nailed into the wood. There, at the very top of the door, was a heavily covered pinboard with a large number one written on the frame in the upper left. Various scraps of scribbled notes had been pinned, scribbled out, and pinned over. Amy squinted as she leaned in to read, but there wasn’t enough light in this dark corner of the room. 

“So dark!” she hissed through gritted teeth, “And I really don’t have time but-!”

There was a squeal by her ankle and she froze. Looking down, she was met with the wide-eyed gaze of Rosie, the chao’s sharp teeth glinting in the low light. 

Amy placed a shaking finger to her lips as her ears strained to hear what was going on outside the door, only for her stomach to feel as though it dropped through the floor when she heard Shadow’s voice. 

“Rosie,” she whispered, “sweetie, I need you to be very quiet.” 

But Rosie was not quiet. Rosie squealed again, giggling as she flew up into the air and did a loop around Amy’s head. Amy tried to catch her, but Rosie dodged the grasping hand in favor of flying straight for the now slightly cracked door. 

Amy hissed through her teeth, eyes wide as she tried to run tip-toe to catch the chao. She made a desperate last grab only for Rosie to push the door open and-

Amy dodged to the side, uselessly trying to hide, and her shoulder hit the light switch.  

The light was blindingly bright and painful. Amy yelled as she threw the arm holding Shadow’s book over her face, flailing as she tried to hit the switch off. She could hear a high-pitched whine growing louder and louder the longer the light stayed on, the greater the panic that bubbled up within her. She whined and squinted through the light to try to find the switch. Her eyes watered while she squinted through the glare. 

Then, all of the sudden, she heard a click, and the light was off again. 

“Why are you in here?” 

Amy froze. She turned slowly only to come face to face with Shadow who was standing right behind her, watching her with those hard eyes. Rosie sat on top of their head, still giggling as she watched Amy, with a face that said the chao knew exactly what trouble it had caused.  

She took a step away, giggling nervously. 

“I-,” she fumbled, holding their book out in front of them, “This was under the couch. I figured you’d want it somewhere safe.” 

Shadow blinked slowly, taking the book from them. They drummed their fingers on the cover, the sound causing a shiver to crawl up Amy’s spine. Shadow’s brow furrowed for a moment, and Amy watched as their eyes slid from hers to their room behind her. She saw them chew the inside of their lip, shuffling where they stood as though suddenly too nervous to look at her again. 

Her heart sank and she sighed, tightly shutting her eyes as she covered her face with her hands. 

“I… also was looking for clues about what to get you for Christmas.” 

Shadow said nothing. The silence stretched. Amy’s hands began to shake. 

“I’m so sorry!” The words came in a tumbled rush. “I just wanted to get you something nice! Something you’d actually like! I know Christmas isn’t really your thing, and with the crowds- There’s nothing worse than a shitty gift from someone who should know you better and I want to make it worth it and-” 

“H-hey,” their voice sounded strangely small. “It’s fine.” 

“It’s not fine!”

She heard Rosie coo gently, and felt the chao headbut her hands. Amy relented just enough to take Rosie from the air and hold her, but still, she did not open her eyes. 

“Amy-” there was a pause, then a huff, “Would you look at me?” She scrunched her face, but all the same, slowly opened her eyes. 

“I really am sorry,” she mumbled, still pouting. “And if I can make it up to you, please let me know.” 

For a moment the two of them stood in silence. Then, much to her surprise, Amy saw Shadow laugh. 

It wasn’t much. In fact, it was probably the quietest laugh she had ever heard. The smile that normally was restrained to their eyes and never the rest of their face turned the corners of their mouth up as they rolled their eyes, shaking their head as they did so. A light almost fluttering sound she could only assume was their laugh echoed in their throat, gone in an instant as they  coughed into one closed fist. 

“You… probably know by now that I have you for Secret Santa.” 

Amy pouted. “Yeah… more because Rouge said she rigged the game than anything else, but yeah.” 

She could see Shadow grit their teeth. 

“Oh?” 

Amy nodded. Shadow pinched the bridge of their nose. 

“Why am I not surprised…” they huffed, shaking their head. “Listen, why don’t you tell me what you’d like, and we’ll call it even.” 

“...That’s it?” 

Shadow nodded, “That’s it.” 

“But-” 

They held up a hand. “I’ve been trying to figure out something since November, and I’m running out of time and patience.” 

Amy couldn’t help herself as she giggled. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been in the same situation trying to figure out what you might like.” 

“I don’t need anything.” 

“Oh really?” Amy put one hand on her hip, the other still holding Rosie, “Oh, Mr. Ultimate Life-Form doesn’t need anything? Well what if little old me doesn’t need anything either?”

She grinned as she watched Shadow’s eyes narrow, one of their ears twitching. 

“Cream told me you were looking to purchase a pressure canner. If you don’t give me an answer, I’m going to assume she’s right.” 

“Don’t you dare! Those are expensive!” 

Shadow crossed their arms. “I never said I’d get it new.” 

Amy opened her mouth, then closed it as she rocked on the heels of her boots. “Okay, fair… and yes, yes l was looking to get one of those.” 

“Excellent. Merry Christmas in advance. Now please leave.” 

“Hold up!” Amy held a finger under Shadow’s nose, watching as they went cross eyed trying to follow it, “I want to know what to get you, too!” 

“Isn’t that what you broke into my room for?” 

“Yes, but I couldn’t get any good answers!”    

“Oh well,” Shadow said, a smirk slowly sliding across their face as Rosie laughed again.

“No! Come on! You have to tell me!” 

“I don’t have to tell you anything. Now leave.” 

Amy squinted, eyes darting between them and the light switch on the wall. The smirk fell from Shadow’s face as she reached a hand out towards it. 

“Don’t you dare,” they hissed.  

“I’ll do it. I’ll turn the light back on.” 

“You will not.”

“Try me.” 

“Threatening me? In my own room? Over a Christmas gift?” 

Amy puffed up her chest. “I say that’s a good enough reason.” 

“Careful, you’re starting to sound like Rouge.” 

Even as Shadow sneered at her, Amy could see the way they looked between her and the light switch. With a huff, Amy dropped her outstretched hand to support Rosie who had decided at this point to try and climb onto her head.

“What even is wrong with your lights anyway?” she said, looking towards the fixture in the center of the ceiling. “It’s like they’re built to kill.” 

“Voltage issue,” they grumbled.

“Haven’t you asked anyone to fix it?” 

“Doesn’t matter. Stop changing the subject.” 

Amy crossed her arms. “I mean, it does. It’s hard on the eyes.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“But-”

“I like low-lighting, alright?” Shadow rolled their eyes as they shook their head. “I’m fine. Now, please, leave.” 

Amy pouted, opening her mouth to retort only to pause. The gears in her head whirled as slowly, her furrowed brow lifted and her mouth curled into a smile. She leaned in, grinning ear to ear. 

“I think I know what to get you for Christmas.” 

Shadow squinted at her, pulling back ever so slightly. “You do?” 

Amy nodded as she giggled. “Can I run it by you? Just to double-check?” 

She couldn’t help but notice how Shadow looked away, and for a split second, she swore she saw a look of nervousness flash across their face even as they nodded. 

“How about I get you some nice hanging lights?” she said, pointing at the ceiling as she did so. “Like a couple sets of nice energy efficient string lights, where you can change the color, the brightness, all that stuff! So no matter how you’re feeling or what you need, they’ll work for you!” 

Shadow seemed to freeze. It was at this moment Rosie started squirming, Amy’s vision momentarily blocked by her tiny hands wiggling for Shadow as she cooed. Slowly, Shadow took her, letting Amy be free to clasp her hands at her chest while she bounced gleefully from foot to foot.  

“You’re not saying no-oo~!” 

Shadow blinked, shaking their head a little as they seemed to come back to themself and look up from Rosie. “That… does sound nice.” 

“So you think you’d like that?” 

Shadow nodded, and Amy could not contain a shriek of glee as she hugged them, jumping up and down. “Yes! Yes yes yes! Aaaaah I’m so happy! I’ve been so worried- I wanted to get you something you liked so badly!” 

She laughed as she let them go. “Sorry, okay, I- I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’ll get out of your quills!” 

Shadow, eyes wide, only nodded. Amy couldn’t help but lean in for one more hug, squeezing tightly as she squealed with glee before rushing out and towards the apartment door. 

“Thanks again, Rouge!” she said as she rushed through the living room. 

“For what?” She called out, lifting her head from the couch.

Amy didn’t bother to reply. She just laughed as she closed the door. 

[disasterbijamietartt]

It hurts my heart how excited and happy Jamie was to go for a beer with Roy and whennRoy said how proud he was of him. I'm preferring to ignore the following part, but it did make me happy them realising they were being stupid and going for a kebab so Im hoping that was just a stupid lapse of sense. Although it is making me side eye Roy especially for behaving that way knowing Jamie's past.

Ugh, yes, the latter half of the bar talk really didn't sit right with me.

It started out so great, but then it made a u-turn …

You know, I understand why they brought up the love triangle with Roy and Jamie, since their feelings for Keeley was something that was still standing between the and that they needed to talk about, but I didn’t like the execution of them getting needlessly sexist about it (bringing up the sex tape, really? And Roy’s whole “stay away from her, we are talking again so she is clearly mine — although, women, who understands them?”).

I could even accept the fist fight as some sort of necessary catharsis for them, if it wouldn’t be for Jamie’s history with abuse and him just two minutes earlier saying how Roy gave him something positive he didn’t get from the other older men in his life. (I’ll assume Simon wasn’t that much into football, so he wasn’t as motivational and didn’t train with him etc., otherwise just … ouch.) And the thing is also, all of Roy’s jealousy aside … they never actually fought over Keeley, which was the part I found so refreshing about the way the love triangle was handled. But, yeah, I can see how there was some lingering animosity that had to get settled before they truly could be best friends. But they could done that without actually fist fighting …

The whole asking Keeley to choose thing was … quite arrogant of them and icky, but good for them to realise they were being idiots and that it apparently didn't mess with their friendship.

Still, I would have preferred if they hadn't come to the conclusion, that Keeley should chose (with her choice being neither for good reason), but that they had used this opportunity to talk with her about their feelings for her and that they needed to know where they were standing with her to find closure. And then them having an actual conversation adressing their conundrum and how it would be best for all of them to stay friends, yadda yadda.

Like, the thing that annoys me most is, that we didn’t get a follow up, no apology to Keeley for acting so stupid. She kicked them out, which was the right thing to do, but I'd wished they had actually talked things out.

It is nice to have it so open that you can interpret it whichever way you want, but after seeing the trio's blooming friendship last episode this felt like such a step back in their relationship. I just would have loved to get a little bit more resolution, to have them properly established as friends.

Especially if you read the montage as something only happening in Ted’s dream—like, that is the only way I can excuse Beard’s and Jane’s wedding (with Ted not being present on top?) and Jamie visiting James and laughing with him. (I saw so many people on reddit being moved to tears by Jamie reconciling with his “dad”, like, yeah, applause for years of abuse and trauma being ignored in order to get a sappy ending. Like, if the show had at least acknowledged the abuse and shown James taking accountability, BEFORE Jamie decides to reconnect, but yeah, no one has to ever be accountable to Jamie, soo … And it is especially upsetting considering they added sexual abuse to the long list of James’ crimes just to … completely drop this, as if it didn’t matter. They could have made Jamie’s first trip to Amsterdam traumatic in other ways, if the contrast between bad trip with dad and good trip with mum was all they wanted to accomplish …)

On a side note: Jamie enjoying and missing drinking beer threw me off, since he never seemed to be too fond of alcohol, but they probably wanted to get the Darsteiner callback in. Way more important than consistent characterisation.

[piastrinorris]

for the fic title game: Melt With You

oooooh okay so. edancy. restaurant au. nancy's a hostess-turned-manager, eddie's a line cook bc <3 line cook eddie <3 you know how long i've been a sucker for him lol. which means this ended up being insanely long LMAO

they've rarely had to interact bc of nancy always being front of house and eddie being in the kitchen. his first impression very much gave her Typical Line Cook vibes which she's just never had the time for. any time that she has had to interact with him, especially when she gets promoted and has to scold him over things she's overheard servers say he's been saying to them, he usually replies with some sarcastically Typical Line Cook comeback, but the head chef would rather set the whole kitchen ablaze than lose someone who works as well as eddie

anyway, one day there's a heatwave, insane even by midwest standards. and the ac is broken. it's basically a health hazard to have any kind of oven on in that kitchen, so the higher ups make the executive decision to close until the temperature cools or the ac gets fixed, whichever happens first. nancy's being diligent as always, making sure the restaurant is being left in good enough condition that they don't have to do much to get it ready next time it opens. she notices a kitchen door is propped open. not the ones the servers go through, it's one that leads from the other side of the bar - meaning it has a handle on it. nancy goes to kick it shut. she hears the "no, no, no!" coming from in the kitchen and steps in to investigate - to have the door close behind her just as she notices the inside handle has fallen off.

eddie and nancy argue back and forth for a while. why is he still here? nancy checked that everybody had clocked out so she knew she was the last one in the building. eddie wanted to do some last minute work in the kitchen to make sure he could pick up where he left off, but only decided he was going to do it after he clocked out and he was simply too lazy to clock back in. why did she not listen to his warning? why did nobody tell her the handle broke? who wants to be scolded when the weather already makes everyone feel like shit? stuff like that. nancy already bolted the server doors from the outside. so they're stuck.

anyway, the obvious thing to do is to call for help. there's a phone on the kitchen wall, thank god. except all the phone numbers are in the kitchen manager's office. which is locked. and nancy doesn't have her keys bc she didn't think she was gonna get locked in the kitchen. and of all the numbers she does have memorised, only one is another manager's landline, and they're not picking up, so she has no choice but to tell their answering machine that she and eddie are locked in and need help.

eddie eventually turns to cooling-down solutions like taking a bag of frozen peas and sticking it under his waistband. or rolling chilled bottles along his face. he offers nancy the opportunity to do so, too, and she turns her nose up, and at one point she goes to scold him for potentially defrosting the freezer room when he opens the door to it but then she stands in the doorway and it feels so good. so she lets it slide, even when eddie teases her about heeding his words over the rules

and eventually it just gets too hot to put all the effort into arguing. so they just kinda make small talk for a while. eddie learns that nancy's only so "uptight" because of the societal pressure put on her that's only fuelled more by her family. nancy learns that eddie's actually real passionate about his work, he just acts like a dick bc he too faces societal pressure as a result of his family, but he just leans into it rather than trying desperately to prove himself bc, well, why do they have to reap the rewards of his hard work if they're gonna talk shit about him anyway? and they start to realise that they're two sides of the same coin, really, and apologise to each other for misunderstanding each other

maybe there's a moment where even though they're both sweaty as hell they're like. about to kiss. but the manager nancy phoned finally gets to the restaurant and is able to free them. and the tension between them is PALPABLE. eddie even stops flirting with the servers, not necessarily bc he learned from nancy (though he did a little in terms of his work ethic) but also bc nancy's the only person he wants to flirt with now. and nancy doesn't want to find it charming, but she does start walking past the kitchen a little more frequently than she used to in the hopes that eddie's not so into his work that he can look up, see her there and make some passing comment for her to chime back to. the staff joke that they're not sure if they prefer this to them always being cold to each other. they play cat and mouse for a while until eddie bites the bullet and asks her out

[quinloki]

omg I'm like actually a little crazy over this like I'm still thinking about it it's still in my brain help

omg just imagine none of the brothers will get in between it, but they start slowly doing things to encourage whichever brother they support more. or they go the way of ace/luffy and accidently cockblock (or purposefully in Izou's case bc he's a little shit)

OMG AND AFTER THE DREAM YOURE AVOIDING ALL THREE and they pick up on it bc they're not dumb and ace is the first one to come to you all sad like did I do something wrong and hes so sad and you break down and tell him and he's like ew but fair and somehow the other two overhear or something (convienient vent trope prolly) and so they're like trying to figure out how to approach it bc they're both too gentlemanly to just come straight up and say wanna fuck? and also there is always brothers around thatch clings to marco and luffy clings to sabo so it's just like… lingering touches or glances and you're all flustered from it and finally it's like damn gotta get laid so you go on tinder or hit the bar up with friends

and you got all dressed up and luffy/deuce saw you and were like uh??? and report in to marco/sabo and then just a group of the bros show up at the bar and cockblock and that's the snapping point or something

idk I gotta do some chores so I may have more thoughts about this but my brain is going wild with this jfc I'm so bad at putting it into words tho but I had to share

PURPOSEFULLY IN IZOU'S CASE CAUSE HE'S A LITTLE SHIT

I am dying XD It's so true though.

He thinks you're cute too, and he's getting to a point that if Marco or Sabo don't pipe up, he will, and despite the beauty and grace he has no desire to beat around the proverbial bush. (heck this got long)

And no convenient vent trope, I imagine all three were grumbling about it and Ace was like "Screw this I'm going to ask." And Marco and Sabo kind of want to stop him, but they don't, and they're SHAMELESSLY eavesdropping in the hallway.

And Thatch is definitely accidentally getting in the way like Ace and Luffy (and sometimes cause Izou sends him off toward Marco >.> )

And I think maybe you don't decide to go blow off steam, so much as you get invited. Girls' night out or something, queue Nami and Vivi and maybe a couple more, and you head out.

Thatch works at the bar, and you didn't realize that. He just sends a text to Marco, cause he knows that he'd said something about wanting to take you out to help you get out of the house, and there's nothing behind Thatch's text, just a sort of "good job getting her out of the house" kind of deal.

Marco's confusion causes a quick back and forth series of texts and he's changing and running out the door before his usual demeanor kicks in enough to even slow him down and Sabo's on his heels like "You are acting suspicious, brother dear." and comes along and halfway there Marco's like

"Shit... what was I thinking? We're going to look like total creeps."

"Nah, we can just wait until she's leaving on her own an give her a ride home, her and her friends if they need it. Apologize for being over-protective, calm down old bird."

They get there in time to see trouble going into the bar (some variety of either Kizaru/Teach/Worst-Gen/etc.) and they're both just like, "Well, fuck" cause now they're honestly worried.

Nami's the target (maybe it's Arlong?) and you, cute little not-a-part-of-this-side-of-the-world person that you are, doesn't see danger - you just see some asshole who can't get a clue. So you step in on Nami's behalf, and her and Vivi are trying to keep you out of it, but one of the reasons you and Ace get on is because you're both a little more likely to punch first, diplomacy second.

You don't want to assault someone on your night out, but this douchebag isn't getting the hint. His fist goes back and you're ready to deal with him, but suddenly there's Thatch's chef's knife at his throat, Sabo's in front of you with a steel pipe, and Marco's already twisted his fist behind his back.

You've been living with these guys for a while, and you've NEVER seen them all look so angry. Even Thatch looks ready to murder someone and he struck you as a goofball.

The Entire Bar is dead silent.

Anyway, that's how you end up going to a hotel with Marco and Sabo, and becoming an enemy of some mafia or something in the story and we move from a few chapters of fluffy prep and world-building to a far more charged story >.>