#[ i feel like i sound really aggressive in these replies but i promise i'm not

[tenebriism]

📝💘💞 hehe

Munday: Yes and No Edition [ ACCEPTING ] ;;

📝 : A rule you think is important when it comes to role playing:

Common courtesy and common sense. At the end of the day, this is a hobby (unless you're getting paid to do this, in which case, when were you going to tell us all the secret to getting paid for putting up with this site's chaos?) Nobody is obligated to cater to anyone else, nobody is obligated to put anyone else above themselves, and I feel like people forget this ALL the time. Stop being pushy, stop hassling people for replies or attention, stop being rude, stop getting emotional over every little thing and taking everything personally, stop turning what should be an escape from reality into more bullshit and pettiness. There should not be drama. Let's just all vibe, enjoy a common hobby and common fandoms, and be chill.

💘 : Your policy on shipping with your muse(s):

Basically, just don't be pushy. We all have ships we prefer and ships we, honest to god, have no desire for. Just be respectful. If I, or someone else, says no to a ship, no matter what the reason may be, that's it. There shouldn't be any push back, don't take it personally and get all in your feelings, etc.

💞 : Your policy on pre-established relationships with your muse(s):

I very much prefer pre-established over the whole boring, repetitive drag of an introduction stage, but one of my biggest pet peeves is when I feel like I was just tossed into a ' group. ' By this, I mean my muse is lumped in with 4 others of the same muse, and nothing feels . . . personal or unique, ya know? I like to establish things that are special between us. Nicknames and AUs and songs just for them. Something only we can get excited about or vibe over. Folks can ship with as many of the same character as they desire, but I'm sure we can all agree when I say it's BETTER when you're made to feel like you're more than just that muse.

[emmylksblog]

I’LL COME BACK BABY // H.FORT

the night before hector leaves to usa. based on this request.

genre: fluff

warnings: none

a/n: he played so well that i couldn’t help but write about him 😮‍💨 also we have more content about him yall edit girlies should be working 🫡

Hector and you sat on your couch, a cozy atmosphere filling the room. Soft music played in the background as you cuddled together, enjoying each other's company. You rested your head on his chest, tracing patterns on his shirt with your fingers. "I'm going to miss you while you're away," you said, looking up at him with a small pout on your lips. Hector smiled and wrapped his arms tighter around you. "I'll be back before you know it amor," he replied, kissing the top of your head.

"But it'll still be a week without you," you said, pouting even more. You knew it was childish, but you hated the thought of being apart from him even for a few days.

Hector chuckled and brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face. "I'll be thinking of you every single day," he assured you. "And I'll call you every night, I promise.

You took a deep breath and snuggled closer to him, taking comfort in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Just promise me you'll be careful over there," you said quietly.

Hector tilted your chin up and looked into your eyes. "Of course, amor. I'll be playing in a friendly match, what's the worst that could happen?" he asked with a chuckle.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help smiling at his nonchalance. "Don't jinx it," you replied, poking his chest. "I would never forgive you if something happened to you."

Hector pretended to be hurt, clutching his heart dramatically. "You wound me, amor," he said with a grin. "You really don't think I can handle myself?"

You smirked. "You can be pretty reckless sometimes," you said, recalling all the times he'd come home with a bruise after a particularly aggressive match.

Hector laughed, knowing that you had a point. "And I always survive," he said, shrugging. "I'll be fine, I promise. Just worry about missing me."

Hector could see the worry still present in your eyes despite your smile. He brought your face closer to his and gave you a soft kiss. "Amor, I promise I'll be fine," he said, trying to reassure you again.

You took a deep breath and nodded, forcing your worries aside. "I know baby, I know," you said, resting your head on his shoulder.

He stroked your hair and held you close. "Just think about all the fun we'll have when I get back," he said, trying to distract you from your worries. "We can go out to your favorite restaurant, go on a weekend getaway..."

You smiled, imagining all the things you could do together once he was back. "I like the sound of that," you replied, feeling your anxiety slowly dissipating.

Hector gave you a mischievous grin. "And I'm sure we'll have a lot of fun making up for lost time," he said, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

You felt a blush creeping onto your cheeks at his words. "Hector!" you exclaimed playfully, lightly swatting his chest.

Hector laughed and pulled you closer. "What? I'm just saying what we're both thinking," he said, nuzzling your neck.

You rolled your eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but secretly relishing the feeling of his touch. "You're terrible," you said, biting back a smile.

You looked at the clock and realized that it was getting late. "You should probably get some sleep cariño," you said reluctantly. "You have an early flight tomorrow."

Hector groaned and pulled you closer to him. "But I don't want to leave you yet," he said, pouting dramatically.

You chuckled at his pouting. "Don't worry, I'll join you in bed too," you reassured him.

Hector perked up at your words and a smirk appeared on his face. "In that case, let's go to bed immediately," he said, standing up and scooping you up into his arms.

You let out a surprised shriek as he carried you bridal style towards the bedroom. "Hector, put me down!" you protested, half-laughing.

He just chuckled and shook his head, continuing to carry you until he reached the bed. He laid you down gently before climbing in beside you and pulling you close.

You snuggled into his chest, feeling safe and comfortable in his embrace. "You're such a menace," you said, shaking your head.

Hector just laughed and buried his face in your hair. "But you love me anyway," he said smugly.

"Unfortunately," you muttered, though there was no heat behind your words.

Hector chuckled and kissed the top of your head. "You're stuck with me, amor," he said, wrapping his arms tighter around you.

You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Despite your teasing, you couldn't deny the way your heart rate quickened whenever he was near.

"Just promise me you'll come back in one piece," you said softly, your worries surfacing again.

Hector hugged you closer, rubbing your back reassuringly. "I promise, amor. I'll always come back to you," he said, his voice firm and sincere.

You took a deep breath and nodded, trying to find comfort in his words. "I love you," you said quietly.

Hector's hold on you tightened at your words, and he nuzzled your hair. "Te quiero," he whispered, his voice low and heartfelt. "More than anything."

You snuggled closer to him, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. "Hector?" you said suddenly.

"Hmm?" he replied, not opening his eyes as he continued to hold you.

You took a breath, not quite sure if you wanted to ask the question that was on your mind. "Will you still love me when you come back?" you blurted out, unable to stop yourself.

Hector opened his eyes and looked down at you, his expression serious. "Of course I will," he said firmly, cupping your face in his hand. "Why would you even ask that?"

You looked up at him, your insecurity clear in your expression. "But there will be so many pretty girls in America," you said quietly. "What if you meet someone else and forget all about me?"

Hector chuckled at your words, finding your insecurity endearing. But when he saw the look on your face and you turned away from him, he quickly realized that you were actually upset.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you close to his chest. "Amor, you have nothing to worry about," he said gently, nuzzling your neck.

You stayed silent, biting your lip as you tried to suppress your doubts. Hector continued to hold you, tracing soothing patterns on your skin with his fingers.

"You really think I could forget about you that easily?" he asked, his voice soft but with a hint of amusement. "Have you seen yourself, amor? You're the most beautiful person I've ever met, inside and out."

Hector pulled you even closer, enveloping you in his warm embrace. "Don't worry anymore, amor," he whispered. "You're worrying me too."

You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of reassurance wash over you. "Goodnight, cariño," you said, finally relaxing against him.

He reached over to turn off the light, plunging the room into darkness. "Goodnight, amor," he replied, kissing the top of your head.

You were abruptly woken up by a loud thump and a few muttered curses coming from the bathroom. You sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you tried to orient yourself.

Panicked, you searched for Hector, hoping he wasn't already gone. When you heard him shuffling around in the bathroom, you quickly got out of bed and walked towards it.

You barged into the bathroom and immediately enveloped him in your arms. "Why didn't you wake me?" you asked, your voice a mix of surprise and frustration. "I wanted to say goodbye."

Hector wrapped his arms around you in return, a mixture of guilt and tenderness on his face. "I didn't want to wake you, amor," he said softly. "You looked so peaceful asleep."

You kissed him gently, your lips lingering on his for a moment. "Let me help you finish packing," you said, taking his hands in yours. "It'll go faster, and I want to make sure you have everything you need."

Hector smiled and squeezed your hands, grateful for your help. "Okay, amor," he said as he picked up the items he had dropped earlier.

You stood by the front door, Hector's manager waiting just outside. You couldn't help but poke at him one last time. "Are you sure you have everything? Your passport, wallet, keys...?"

Hector rolled his eyes playfully, feigning irritation as he checked his pockets for the thousandth time. "I have everything, amor. I swear."

You laughed and gave him a gentle nudge. "You forgot something, though," you said, a sly smile on your lips.

Hector raised an eyebrow, looking slightly suspicious. "Oh, really? What did I forget?"

You leaned up on the tips of your toes and whispered in his ear, "Good luck kiss?"

Hector chuckled and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. "How could I forget that?" he replied, his voice mischievous as he pressed a deep, lingering kiss on your lips.

For a moment, the world around you faded away, and you lost yourself in his embrace. But eventually, he pulled away, breaking the spell.

He kissed your forehead gently before reluctantly stepping back. "I'll make sure to call you every night amor," he said, his voice a little hoarse.

You nodded, a bittersweet smile on your face. "I'll be waiting," you said quietly.

Hector gave you one last lingering look before turning to leave, his manager waiting patiently outside. He looked back at you from the doorway, giving you a small wave.

You waved back, watching as he disappeared down the sidewalk. A pang of sadness hit you as you closed the door, feeling already lonely without his presence. But you took a deep breath, knowing that he would be back soon.

[spacebaby1]

Rindou’s girl being angry at him, and Rin desperately trying to get her to forgive him and give him a kiss, kicked wet puppy energy, he just wants her love and attention (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾

Stop that's so evil of Y/n, I love it! 😈 Haha!

Rindou is a big baby. Argue with the wall if you disagree. Anyways! It was not usual for you to argue or get angry at Rindou. However, you've been planning this date for a week and were so excited about it. You've got the beautiful dress, and done your make up, got your hair done as you waited for Rindou when he promised that he'd be home in few hours but it started to get late and he wasn't answering his phone. You've been waiting for too long as you looked at the clock; eleven thirty. Still no answer from Rindou, then it was already twelve, so you just gave up before sending Rindou a long text, puring all your disappointment and anger before changing and getting in bed.

Around two at night, Rindou rushed inside the house after being gone on a mission he'd completely forgot the date, and that text made his heart drop when he finally saw it, but it was already late.

He ran inside the room to find your beautiful dress thrown on the chair, and you sound asleep in your comfy pyjamas. He cursed himself for forgetting the date, and he knew how excited you were about it. After taking a quick shower he decided to join you in bed, Carefully he wrapped his arms around your waist which made you stir and pushed his hand away in your sleep before moving closer to the wall side. Rindou gasped, feeling hurt that you pushed his arm away when you literally loved him cuddling you.

The next morning, he woke up to empty bed. He rushed downstairs to apologise to you, but you were already gone; unlike other mornings, you'd made him breakfast and coffee; today, you haven't made him anything. He texted you good morning and that he was sorry to which you left him on seen before replying hours later with just 👍🏼. He knew you were at campus and didn't want to disturb you, but still tried to apologise by texting you to grab lunch.

Rindou: babe, wanna grab lunch?

Rindou: ???

My love: no. I ate

Rindou: That's fine lovely ♥️ wanna grab boba? My treat!

My love: No, I'm good.

He knew he was done for this time because you never gave him silent treatment or dry texted him. He simply gave up and waited for you to get home all nervous and anxious to approach you. You got home around seven in the evening, and without kissing him hello, you walked past him to your room and went to change. You came down to drink water and Rindou jumped of the couch to hug you which you just avoided by walking away and his smile dropped as you made your way to the couch with the glass of water and grabbed the TV remote. He made his way next to you, "I'm so sorry, baby. I completely lost track of time yesterday, and im -"

"I don't care. It's whatever." Your cold reply was anything but okay! Because you were indeed mad at him. He tried to lay his head on your lap, but you raised your knees up, and he pouted, trying to hug you, which you pushed his hand away, "Rindou, stop." He blinked at you, holding back tears, "I'm sorry, babe! I promise you I will never ever forget another date please give me a hu-"

You groaned, getting up literally pushing his arm away aggressively as you stood up, "I told you to stop it! I'm tired, Rindou." With that, you slammed the glass on the kitchen counter before heading upstairs. Deep down you felt bad and hated treating Rindou like that because he's honestly the sweetest boyfriend and surprisingly he never forget a date before nor did make you feel bad in anyway and this was his first time but another part of you really wanted to go to the date.

With a sigh you got in bed and waited for Rindou to join you so you'd accept his cuddles but you fell asleep immediately and woke up few hours later to find your bed empty; Rindou wasn't there. You checked the clock, and it was around one in the morning. You sighed before getting up and texted Rindou.

You: Rin...where are you?

Rinny: downstairs...

You: what- I thoug- why are you not in bed?

Rinny: ....you don't want me too...sorry.

You sighed before putting the phone away and heading downstairs to find Rindou still on the couch; his head resting on the armrest and his feet hugging closer to his chest. You sighed before lazily making your way towards him. Ruffling his hair softly, you spoke, "Let's go to bed, Rin." He looked at you with terry eyes, making yours widen as you sat in front of him to his eye level, holding his puffy cheeks in your soft hands, "Why are you crying? Rin!" He shook his head, trying to hide his eyes, "I'm a horrible boyfriend. I'm not worthy of you. How could I forget about a da-"

"I don't care about that date now! Rin, don't cry, I didn't want you to get that upset. Come on, get up, let's go to bed." He sniffled, "w-will you cuddle me?" You nodded with a smile which made him smile bright before getting up and hugging you, "I'm sorry ab-"

"Forget the date! We'll go to another one, now let's go to bed."

[charmedreincarnation]

Heyy, I'm new on tumblr, even though I've been reading void blogs and success stories from chrome over the past few months but this is my first time actually getting tumblr. I've asked this to other bloggers but nobody seemed to reply, maybe they're on break but I don't really know since I'm new here. So I tried the secret subject sleep trigger and after it was over I woke up (as the person in the hypnosis directed me to) and laid on my bed absolutely motionless for about 15 minutes, my legs got sore since they were suspended from from the bed (the bed is a bit small) so I folded my legs while keeping my position same, then I remembered that I saw in a video about astral projection that you can visualize you have a rope hanging above you and feel that you're holding onto that rope and pulling yourself, so I did and it felt like I was actually pulling myself up and finally it felt like my legs were pulled up and once it happened, the thing I experienced after this was mind blowing, I WAS BLOWN. My earphones were still attached but there was no audio playing (since the sleep trigger hypnosis had already ended and my internet wasn't on) but I heard music for a very short while and after that I heard the audio which I previously heard in the mind awake body asleep binarual beats audio by phase evolution and some high pitched sounds occasionally, even tho anything wasn't playing. It felt like I was aggressively being pulled up and thrown down and my skin was being stretched vigorously and it also felt like my body was being tensed up and then back to normal and while this was happening I affirmed for the void, affirmations like 'I am in the void state rn' 'I always wake up in the void' 'Why do I always wake up in the void' such and such. After a while of this everything started to calm down so I thought I was in the void but as things started to calm down I could again slowly hear the background noises (like my mother talking and trees rustling) and again I was feeling how I felt when I laid motionless previously and then eventually my mother woke me up (even though I wasn't really asleep this whole time). I'm writing this long asf paragraph to ask you what actually happened when I experienced that because I am absolutely clueless, where I went wrong because I eventually couldn't enter the void and how I can improve or what I can do to succeed the next time (I'll be trying again tonight).

(I've asked this to quite a few bloggers but got no reply and I don't know if they're on break or if my question got sent)

Love youu and have a great day ahead 💕

There is a whole range of sleep states that negate out-of-body experiences and beyond, from MABA to the void and experiences in between like SATs, hypnagogia, sleep paralysis, the trance state, and etc. I can't tell you what was happening because I'm not you, and even if it was happening to me, I can't tell if I would know what was happening even if it was happening to me.

For everyone, it's very much a learning experience; there are still things that happen to me where I need to do research because it's very new! My mindset is just to affirm and hope for the best because even if it's not something you're aware of, it doesn't mean it can't help or you failed.

Just assume every new experience is an opportunity opening and just take it even if you don’t know what it is because there are things that happened to me in 2020 that I now realize, "Oh, I almost shifted. Oh, that was the void state. Oh, I was astral projecting," now in 2024. There’s a lot of potential in the the unknown and in the realm of OBEs it will benefit you to just assume the best and affirm lol I promise it will take you far

[bruciemilf]

Me again!

Jaime and Jason have very similar helmet designs, so like...

It wasn't easy, but they had managed to subdue Cheetah and Captain Boomerang, which was a team that no one had on their bingo cards for rogue team ups that month. The villains were tied up with Wongergirl's lasso, Cheetah fuming and attempting to hiss around the duct tape over her mouth while Boomerang was passed out cold.

On the other side of the villains, Jason could see the rest of the young heroes who had been called in to help standing in a small circle, laughing about something or other, checking back in on the rogues to make sure they hadn't escaped. His eyes narrowed at tge casual arm Superboy had thrown around Tim's shoulders and the way Tim leaned into his side and made a mental note to corner the half-kryptonian and ask about his intentions.

"Intense, huh? I didn't think you worked well with others, mi amor." He was ripped from his musings by his boyfriend, who had finished some of the clean up and wandered back to his side, eyes bright and teasing.

"We were in the area when you got the call, love. And they're not so bad, really."

Jaime shrugged, self satisfied. "Sure. If you say so. Khaji Da thinks you're an imbecilic oaf who lies to himself to avoid healing with his problems by the way."

Jason reached out and snagged his boyfriend by the waist and pulled him closer, until the armor on their chests touched. "And you?"

He mused for a second, puraing his lips in thought. "I think you're just doing what heroes do. Saving lives and refusing to go to therapy."

"I go to therapy!" He replied ingignantly, to the sound of giggles from his paramour. "You were in excellent form out there, babygirl."

He did not miss the way Jaime shivered at his wods and lowered tone and the ways his gaze became warmer. "So were you."

They leaned in together, Jaime craning up and Jason leaning down, to have their lips meet in a kiss that would no doubt promise a good post-mission date night when...

Bonk!

The two pulled back as their helmets collided, Jason flushed red and Jaime almost definitely blushing beneath his helmet, his flush deepening with the laughter from the rest of the young heroes at their mistake.

"...maybe we should wait until we've changed out of out uniforms..."

"Yeah. Yeah that sounds good to me." Jason dropped his hands from Jaime's hips and stepped back, instead taking his hand. "The rest of you can handle this! Au revoir!"

The two of them grappled abd flew to tge nearest Zeta Tube to get back to Gotham and then back to Jason's apartment to continue the date they were on when they were interrupted.

HELP. GOING ABSOLUTELY FERAL OVER THIS.

Tim and Kon. MI AMOR. BABY GIRL???? KHAJI DA ROASTING JASON. IM- JSJSJS

Okay. It's just a bit worse when the batfamilys around. Jason doesn't plan for it. He doesn't. But it's in his nature to compete. He had to prove his worth since Bruce took him in, why stop now?

No, he's not trying to impress Jaime.

Shut up, Dick.

"Little Wing, you literally didn't have to take on those thugs alone."

" He does it cause Jaime's turned on when he gets aggressive."

" I did not!" He yells, throwing a betrayed glance in Duke's way. What happened to loyalty between poets?! " ...Why? Did he say something?"

"Oh my God, --"

I'm not immune to Jaime flying over with Jason's favorite post patrol breakfast, helmet retracting back to reveal a bloody grin and black eye. But his eyes practically sparkle when he sees Jason. " Jay!"

At the very least his siblings feel enough disgusted shame to look away when Jaime locks his legs around Jason's waist, peppering kisses all over his helmet. " Ay, papi, your ribs aren't looking good."

" Tell Khaj to stay out of my business. It's not OUR Injury."

He still hugs Jaime's waist, gentle and careful, even thought he knows his boy's tough and has the scars to prove it. "How about you? You're good, baby boy?"

" I'm always good,"

" We'll see about that..."

Bruce, fighting for his motherfucking life over coms:

[inkluvs]

ribs — [ RECITE ] sender quotes a poem that reminds them of receiver with james potter!!

read some to me

hehehe okay roma req 1/4 <3 i hope u like this baby <3 also @maddipoof was the one who suggested this poem bcos i couldn't think of one on my own <3 tw: sleep deprivation? i'm really not sure (0.3k)

james potter x reader

summer celly // masterlist // taglist

“Uhhh, your turn, I believe,” James’s words are slurred with fatigue, each syllable toppling over the next until he finally gives up on sounding coherent, pointing to you instead.

He had insisted on staying up with you about an hour or two ago, promising that he wouldn’t get too tired no matter what. A few hours later and you’d settled on playing a game: each person says one thing that reminds them of the other when it’s their turn. So far it’s been simple, a sunset he saw the other day, a pair of glasses that looked similar to his, and you assume it’ll continue that way.

“A deer on the drive home.” You reply.

His lips part, “And you didn’t offer it a ride? What if it’d been me?”

You giggle and he pouts, crossing his arms.

“James, you were next to me.”

He tilts his head, genuine curiosity coating his voice. “Was I? Maybe I should sleep.”

You nod at his admission. “‘s what I’ve been saying.”

He shakes his head a little too aggressively, “I take that back, my turn?”

You hum.

“‘kay so I came across this poem, and it reminded me of you, it’s quite long though.”

You can feel your heart melting at his words, warmth blossoming in your chest as you formulate a response

“Yeah? What’s it called?”

He racks his brain for a moment, “Everyday You Play? ‘m not sure who wrote it though.” His brow puckers.

“‘s fine,” you assure him. “I’ll check later, yeah? Read some to me?”

“There was a line that I thought you’d like. It went, ‘I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.’ ‘s the last line if I’m correct.”

“James, that's gorgeous.” You breathe.

Heat rises to his cheeks. “Right? ‘s why I thought of you.”

“Flatterer,” You mumble, pressing your lips to his cheek.

He snores, smiling in his sleep.

[spikedsoul]

maid's worst nightmare - ch 33

no i couldn't resist. this does not guarantee the writing hyperfixation will be back in place like it was! but we are getting Closer.

>;)

previous chapters

@sovereign-of-succ

Bowser was silent for a solid moment. You worked a hand up to lightly stroke his muzzle, biting your lip as you waited for his response.

"My answer gonna affect how you see me?" he finally mumbled.

"Either way, no. I just need to know, for my own sanity."

"Yeah, I killed him. His sorry ass didn't deserve to live."

The reply was grunted out without remorse, but even so a surge of emotions shot through you: excitement, relief, the remaining pain of what you'd been through, and a little fear for Bowser and the consequences he'd potentially suffer. Although you didn't know much about politics, you knew that killing a knight could potentially start a war.

But all you could do right then was hide your face against him, hand still lightly stroking his muzzle. The reality for you was that you didn't know whether to cry or kiss him.

Maybe both.

"He's really dead?" you croaked; the corners of your eyes stung a little as the tears began to well. "Like… permanently?"

He gently tilted your chin up so he could look you in the eye. "He ain't never gonna hurt you again, I made sure," he rumbled softly.

This man comforting you was a villain. A criminal. Someone who caused wanton destruction just because, and inconvenienced people for the same reason. Based on what you knew, he didn't hurt anyone - or at least, not seriously, not to the point where they needed a hospital or anything. And yet he'd killed for you. He'd murdered a dangerous man for you, to make sure you'd never be hurt by the monster again, without expecting a goddamn thing from you in return besides a visit you'd already promised. A single father of eight kids risking a potential war just to protect you, the handmaid with a thousand names…

"Hey." His deep voice cut through your reverie, and you blinked a few times to clear the tears from your eyes. His thumb gently wiped them away even as you whimpered softly. "I told ya I'd protect ya, didn't I, sweetheart?"

"Hero–" you had to clear your throat softly when your voice came out a little too rough, "you're my hero, King Bowser… even though you kept saying I wasn't special, you still went out of your way for me…"

His pupils dilated a little and you could feel his heartbeat picking up.

"Hero…" he repeated quietly, like he couldn't believe you'd said that to him. "I'm a hero? I am a hero. I'm a hero."

Although you didn't have lipstick to leave this time, you pulled his head down a bit and kissed his nose lightly. "You're my hero," you whispered. The sheets shifted as a muffled thumping sound started up - Bowser was wagging his tail, rather aggressively if the sound was anything to go by. You couldn't help a quiet little giggle that bubbled up from your chest at his reaction.

He really was like an oversized puppy. And that was helping you recover rather quickly.

Actually, that gave you an idea.

You got your other arm free, then brought both hands down under his jaw; he made a curious sound, but it quickly turned into loud purrs as you scratched at his jawline gently with your nails. You watched as his inner eyelids slid over his eyes a second before his eyes closed. When you brought your hands together under his chin, he fairly predictably leaned his head back, exposing his throat. Who were you to deny him such adorable scritches?

"So, am I still nothing special?" It was a bold question, but the wagging tail had given you a confidence boost.

"Depends," Bowser mumbled cheekily. He was still purring something fierce so that was probably as clear as he'd get.

You immediately stopped scratching. Although you couldn't see them, his eyes popped open.

"Am I still nothing special?" you repeated softly.

His throat bobbed under your hands when he swallowed. "You special, you special!" he practically whined.

"There's a good king," you cooed as condescendingly as you could, continuing to scratch his neck and jaw. He chuffed in protest, but he gave himself away when he couldn't stop the purring from getting louder again.

You were definitely playing with fire; fuck, you were potentially flirting with him, mere hours after getting beaten and nearly raped. But Bowser just made you feel so safe… you were fucking giggling and being goofy in the same day Rodney had beat you thanks to the koopa king.

Of course, it helped immensely knowing Rodney would never come back. You weren't naive enough to think you wouldn't still fear him sometimes, but for now, you were absolutely celebrating.

"Next question," you murmured, "am I still a trading piece?" After all, he'd just admitted you're special, so clearly you weren't just a trading piece now. "I mean, I still doubt she could justify trading a power star or whatever for me, but…"

Bowser suddenly tightened his arms around your middle and rolled onto his back - bringing you with him. You squeaked in surprise, face immediately flushing as your legs naturally straddled his waist. Your hands pressed against his chest for stability, your feet hooking over the tops of his thighs for balance. He was too big for your legs to just dangle comfortably. But then he did probably the worst thing: he released your torso.

You ended up sitting up a bit, staring down in shock and bewilderment at his stupid smug smirk and that adorable blush on his cheeks. And it hit you: he only got flustered when he wasn't in control, but when he was, it was all smooth talking and cocky smirks and shit.

His hands anchored on your bare thighs, big and warm, practically gripping the entire outside and back of them. Luckily, it seemed they were just there for your stability… although you realized with a small bit of horror that you were a bit disappointed by that.

"I gotta getcha home somehow, right?" Bowser rumbled up at you. "But I gotta be honest, li'l lady... I don't think I'd trade ya even for a power star."

Oh boy, that sentiment made you feel funny. Funny enough to blurt out something that really shouldn't matter: "Would you trade me for Peach?"

"Never."

The response was so quick and firm that for a moment both of you just stared at each other in shock.

He wouldn't trade you for her - for Peach, the woman he'd been trying and failing to marry for years. You were more important to him than a literal princess. Not for the first time, you were confronted with how he wanted you, the lowly, frostbitten, abused handmaid.

"I–" he started, but hesitated, his nostrils flaring a few times. Briefly, you thought he was going to retract his statement. "I really mean it. You're… I mean, you make me feel like an equal, and she… don't…"

You finally broke eye contact and laid back down, hiding your face in his chest. Not to be totally embarrassed, though, you stretched your arms out to scratch under his chin again. He mercifully went quiet; at least, he did until the purring started up, and you both visibly relaxed. It seemed neither of you were exactly ready to discuss the implications of what he'd admitted.

"So… you're coming to the race tomorrow, right?" you mumbled against his chest.

"Course I am. Not gonna fuckin' miss my sons practicing," he mumbled back. "Don't lemme forget my phone, though."

You blinked. Phone? He had a phone this whole time? Why didn't he just call Princess Peach?!

The only thing that prevented you from demanding that he explain was the hand now rubbing your right thigh; you were afraid that if you opened your mouth, you'd dig the hole you were both in deeper. As it was, you had to suppress a shiver as his hand trailed up just underneath your butt, down to the crease of your knee, and up again, gentle and slow.

"I didn't call her 'cause her phone broke." It made a little sense, you guessed. He couldn't call her without a number to call. "And with needin' Peasley to confirm you here… well, it took some time. Almost guaranteed I'll hear from her tomorrow, though, so… phone."

All you could do was hum softly, much too focused on the feeling of his hand on your bare leg to answer. It was an idle movement, soothing despite all the pain you'd experienced from Rodney. You trusted Bowser's touch.

You were perfectly okay knowing that.

You were still a little... well, wary, of your vague disappointment at where his hand stopped.

Hmm...

[titanicfreija]

"Look--OH!"

The few guardians on the platform looked up to see Nimbus rolling gracefully to their feet and racing over to a figure lying on the ground--with their sky board sticking out of his back.

The guardians, at first, disregarded the scene but Nimbus cried out in distress. The guardian's ghost 'matted into view. "It's fine," it promised. "He did the same thing on a fence in the EDZ yesterday-- this is much easier to clean up."

Nimbus tried to dislodge the board from the guardian's back, biting their lips and trying to shrink into their shoulders. "I didn't mean to."

Two of the witnesses trotted over to guide Nimbus away from the mess and let them sit down. The ghost hummed as it lifted the guardian and the sky board from the ground, placed the Titan on his feet, and let the board land gently nearby.

The guardian woke up with a start, planting his feet and swiveling his head wildly. A nearby Hunter laughed at him and pointed indicatively at Nimbus. The awakened guardian followed her finger, then looked back and cocked his head, pointing at them quizzically. The third pointed at the board on the ground. The guardian rocked back with realization and ran over.

Poor Nimbus patted his back without looking, then leapt to their feet and picked the Titan up by the armpits to examine for injury. "I'm so sorry!" They cried, and they put the guardian down to brush him off. "I didn't mean to hit you!"

The guardian let his helmet down, revealing a dark brown human in black face paint, still laughing. "I've had worse! Took me right out, it normally takes more than that!"

If Nimbus heard, it didn't help. "I'm so sorry! You guys are usually pretty good about watching out, and I guess I wasn't paying enough attention to the right part of my landing--"

The Hunter, an Awoken woman with black hair, took her helmet off to tuck under an arm. "Seriously, if Xavier goes a month without getting impaled, we start taking bets on how long it'll last."

The Warlocks next to them nodded fervently.

Nimbus sat heavily amongst the fireteam, gray and gaunt. "I'm glad it's okay," they said uneasily, "but I really don't want to do that again."

"Good luck," remarked the Hunter with a smirk. One of the still-helmeted, a warlock, went the platform where Nimbus usually dropped in, and used a flaming dagger to singe an oblong ring on the ground. The Warlock's ghost said, "It's your usual landing spot, the circle is to let us know to stay clear. And it's still our faults if we wind up hurt near it. Too many people need to learn their radar awareness."

The Hunter and Xavier laughed, but Nimbus only stretched their neck to see before they curled back up.

Xavier rubbed Nimbus's back kindly. "Wanna go for a patrol with me or something? No hard feelings, I know it was an accident. Our sixth fireteammate kills me on purpose a lot, you're still not even the worst friendly fire incident I've been victim to in the last year." Nimbus's bottom lip trembled as they looked up at Xavier, and the Titan tried not to laugh. "It's really not a big deal."

"To you," they replied wetly, putting their arms over their head. "I've never killed anyone on accident before." They heaved a shuddering sigh but sounded steady when they said, "I'll be okay."

"Aw, don't be like that. We're sorry, that probably was pretty freaky to you." The Hunter sat next to Nimbus, then stood back up to put an arm over their shoulder.

"You're sorry," Nimbus echoed with a wry smirk. "You're sorry I killed your friend." They didn't see the Hunter aggressively gesturing at Xavier to comfort them.

"Eh, sorry we're not taking you seriously because it's not serious to us, but we should," she explained. "That was rough."

~~

Not great but that picture inspired

[shining-gem34]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER.

repost, do not reblog this

NAME: Jade

PRONOUNS : She/They

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : Discord is my preference of communication. I'm not a big fan of using T.mblr DM's because of the lag on PC. I do my best to answer there until I feel comfortable enough to share my Discord username or we're chatting enough that I am frustrated with the DM's on this site.

NAME OF MUSE(s) : Dan Heng/Dan Feng, Balladeer/Wanderer, and my OC's Rook & Mallory.

BEST EXPERIENCE: In general, I've been having fun meeting new people and trying to bounce ideas. :3 Most memorable? I sound like a broken record (please don't hesitate to shut me up if I keep repeating myself), but it's the IL-Dh fight drabble I wrote for @etherealguard! I just wanted to write the two fighting in a dream. Then the Ichor of Two Dragons animation dropped and we all lost our shit over it.

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS :

passive-aggressiveness: In general, and I say it in my rules, but if you have any issues with me- Please talk to me so we can sort it out. I don't like the feeling I've angered/annoyed/bored you, because you're acting passive-aggressive with me. I understand if you prefer to not talk about it and keep it bottled up- I am like that too alot. But if it's bothering you to the point we can't talk on the same wavelength, there's a problem.

ship dynamics: RP wise, I am usually open to shipping my muses with other characters. Sometimes, we might be already shipping them together after we discuss it in dms. Sometimes, I want to see how they interact first and see if the chemistry is there. I can't make any promises their feelings will be mutual if I don't feel the chemistry there.

Nothing else comes to mind for now.

MUSE PREFERENCES: I lean toward muses who are calm and collected in general. They can be either flirtatious (scheming) or stoic (with some temper/misunderstood to be cold). And then there's the brat named Balladeer/Wanderer who is a menace to society. Though I think sincere characters like Noelle (Genshin Impact) or Sushang (HSR) would be more perfect for me. ;;;;;;

PLOTS OR MEMES : I prefer memes because it's a nice ice-breaker. They're like prompts that makes the brain juices go brr, and it gives me a chance to talk to the sender about it. Plotting takes time for me, and it makes me a little nervous. It makes me feel like I need to have a well-thought out idea for people to be interested enough to bounce ideas with and not be confused.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: I am both! I tend to write alot, but no more than a few paragraphs. I don't mind short replies as long as it's not one-liners (unless this is a text message going back and forth). I need context before deciding how to reply.

BEST TIME TO WRITE : I don't get on my laptop until after 6PM and even then, unless I really force myself/try to get into the mood, I'm too tired to do anything other than chill. On the weekends, it's usually after 12PM I can try to sit down (if I'm not going outside) and make progress.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): Haha. No. I can never be calm and cool as them. Nor can I be courageous like them either. Nor am I an little shit like Wanderer/Balladeer.

Tagged by: Stolen from many people on my dashboard

Tagging: you if you haven't done it!

[bitter-sweet-coffee]

before my melatonin kicks in, here’s a notes app wip excerpt about my purple bisexuals below the cut! it’s not done, nor is it proofread, but i like them a lot so (: enjoy the scraps while i suffer over real world things

The swallow began fiddling with Omega's back panel, but found herself pausing every few moments due to the undesired attention she was getting. Her client didn't seem to be aware of how obnoxious his staring was, so Wave didn't feel justified to snap at him... but that didn't make things easier.

"Have you ever worked with robots before?" she asked, turning to look at the chameleon.

Espio shook his head, but approached the now exposed wiring; "I've only ever been inside the cyberworld," he explained, trying to make sense of the robot's innards.

Wave blinked a couple times in disbelief, growing more uneasy as the chameleon's statement seemed less and less like a joke.

"It's a long story; Shadow karate-chopped a computer that I couldn't seen to hack and I followed him in," he elaborated, holding back a laugh. Espio knew he sounded insane, but it was amusing to watch the rogue silently ruminate over this bizarre information: it was cruel, but her expressions were priceless.

Turning back to continue assessing the damage, Wave began mumbling nonsense under her breath about the panel being tampered with, which piqued Espio's interest. He didn't ask, as the swallow looked focused, but he was impressed with how familiar the mechanic was with robotics, considering extreme gear was her specialization.

"Do you want the good news or the bad news first?"

"The order doesn't matter to me."

Wave sighed, pinching her beak; "Don't be a smartass, just answer my questions. Anyways, I just need to resolder the connections on his panel, and hope there was nothing erased... especially software. I don't fuck with software," she groaned, glancing warily at the exposed wires.

The chameleon raised an eyebrow, "Where's the bad news?"

"I uh, don't really... okay, maybe I don't like soldering." Wave stated, crossing her arms.

Espio was far from amused; "You mean to tell me that your personal preferences are going to cost us the war?" he enquired, biting back as much aggression as he could.

The swallow scoffed, "Us? For the record, I hate it because I have to keep my hands steady, which is hard to do when someone is staring through my skull."

"Us as in the resistance, not you and I, as I'm well aware your team is not aligned and has chosen to ignore the fight entirely," Espio clarified, trying to mask his frustration. Sensing that his misstep was uncalled for, he backtracked with a softer tone, "But I do apologize for making your work environment hostile. I made a promise to Rouge, so I can't leave Omega unattended. If there's another way for me to be less obno—" he started, but was quickly cut off.

"No, it's fine," Wave said quickly, backpedaling. "I can fix the robot, you can stay here, it's all fine.”

Whether she was telling the truth or not was debatable, but they didn’t have the time to think about it in more depth. In fact, there was no time at all, as Espio was already receiving an incoming transmission from his communicator.

“I won’t be able to work with that beeping,” she scolded, but the smirk on her face indicated this was a joke. Nonetheless, the chameleon apologized anyways and answered the call.

“Listen up, we just got word that Eggman’s forces are undermanned at his headquarters in Metropolis!” a familiar voice cheered through speaker.

The swallow perked up and leaned back on her work table to commentate; “Huh, I guess Clifford is still hanging around that group after all… wait, is he a commander? Him, seriously?!”

Espio rolled his eyes and shushed her before unmuting; “They're probably staging somewhere else as part of Eggman's plan. This could be our only chance to take the city,” he replied.

Wave snorted and shook her head; “Yeah, sure he is: he’s fucking with you 100%, are you seriously gonna fall for that?” she jeered as the detective frantically re-muted and prayed her comments weren’t picked up by the crappy mic on his wrist.

Thankfully, Knuckles hadn’t heard the girl, and was too swept away in agreement to question Espio’s willing cooperation; “Exactly!” he cheered, “That's why we're focusing on a full frontal assault on Metropolis: I'm calling it ‘Operation Big Wave.’”

“I bet he’s still mad I’m taller than him,” she chimed back in, this time loudly crunching on some chips that were stale in her desk for who knows how long.

Espio raised an eyebrow, “You know Knuckles?” he asked, flinching at the loud crunching. “Also, this has nothing to do with your hei—“ he started, but eventually deadpanned while Wave snickered, successfully duping him again.

The swallow shrugged and nodded, still smirking from her joke, “Yeah, he’s not the brightest bulb, but then again neither is Storm so I guess we’re even. Who put him in charge?”

“Who cares what it's called? What's important is to have a well thought out strategy,” a different voice chimed in, and the swallow’s attention was quickly refocused once more.

She used this as an opportunity to brush her gloves on her pants, and walk over to Espio in an attempt to peer at the communicator’s visuals; “Oh, I like him! I dunno why he sounds familiar, but the dude has a point.”

Espio tried to move his arm away from her, but it was pointless: Wave wanted to snoop, so she’d get to. “I thought up this strategy in about a minute and a half,” Knuckles started, which earned a groan from both mobians.

“I bet his brain only has 4MB of storage, and half of that is dedicated to remembering how to aim when punching: 90 seconds is probably a personal record for him!” Wave jeered, but this time the chameleon couldn’t resist laughing.

“You have a point, but your commentary isn’t funny enough to drown out the discussion, so save you insults until AFTER they’re done talking.”

“Rude, but fair. If you talked over my meetings I’d probably concuss you.”

“You’d die trying.”

Before the swallow could continue the banter, Vector’s tendency to eat the mic proved its comedic timing, cutting the two off with a boom; “Ha! Great speech! Let's give Eggman an old-fashioned beat down!”

Wave glared at the auditory assailant, “What an irritable teammate, I’d hate to put up with him.”

“That’s my boss,” Espio admitted, failing to keep a straight face, but managed to disguise his laugh by clearing his throat.

The mechanic raised an eyebrow, stepping back in disbelief.

“You… work for HIM? You’re fucking with me, no… seriously? In what universe would someone like you work for an airbag like him?”

Espio shrugged, opting to not take offence or enable the notion that Vector was an idiot; “He’s usually more insightful than this, a method to his madness if you will. It’s irritating and unconventional, but he could be worse.”

“They have more in sheer numbers, so the idea of a quick, focused attack isn't bad. We also have Sonic— I mean, the other Sonic— so I have no doubt we can do this! Also, if we can destroy the Phantom Ruby, we should be able to send the other Sonic home… at least I hope so, this is all new territory for me!” Tails rambled out.

The chameleon was surprised Wave had no insults for the kitsune, turning back to figure out why— but her expression was unreadable.

Espio inhaled, “I am aware that you have somewhat of a rivalry with Tails, but—

—he sounds okay,” the swallow affirmed, almost relieved.

“Did you… know otherwise?” the chameleon prompted, but he was hesitant to say anything at all.

Wave shook out of her contemplative state and made her way back to Omega’s exposed panel, removing herself from the shift in tone; “It doesn’t matter, anyways. He’s just a kid,” she muttered before pushing her glasses down onto her face.

Opting to change the subject, Espio joined her by the robot and pointed to her lenses; “Are those also protective eye gear? I figured it was a style choice, or something for debris when flying… but soldering, too?”

She scoffed, “What do you think this is, Vogue runway? 73 questions with Wave? Seriously, just because I’m the girl of the team it doesn’t make me the vain one.”

While the mechanic knew Espio hadn’t implied anything superficial, and was actually being more insightful and polite than anyone else who entered her workshop, she couldn’t resist berating him.

If he was any less observant, this would have been the end of their agreement. But Espio was far too good of a detective to fall for deflection, and far too stubborn to lose at his own game.

“I bet it’s Storm, then.”

“Huh?”

“You said you’re not the vain one, so that means it has to be Storm.”

Wave, perplexed, turned away from her work again to stare inquisitively at the chameleon. “Go on,” she promoted, “State your reasoning.”

He inhaled, “Well, you ruled yourself out which leaves Jet and Storm— presuming there are no secret rogues and you only intend to include members of this generation. It seems too easy for me to point the finger at Jet; he’s vain to an extent, but he’s also rich, 14, and in a position of power. Some of it is inevitable, but leadership requires a level of humility so that one does not assume their position: his virtues are not a result of leadership, as that would be affirming the consequent. Rather, he is a leader because of his inherent virtue,” Espio explained.

To his surprise, the swallow didn’t cut him off, instead nodding for the analysis to resume.

“Okay,” he began warily, not used to getting this far, “Storm gets to fulfill his role as second in command, which most likely means he completes more tasks. Whether it be manning the airship, completing chores, going out on missions, cooking, being a yes man, personal fitness training— which I’m guessing purely based on his stature— he’s doing a lot, especially for Jet. Am I right in presuming this?” he paused for approval.

“Yes, but go on, I’m invested in where this is heading.”

Espio had to resist smiling, continuing to explain his reasoning; “In Storm’s mind, he does a lot more than you, and way more than Jet. He’s the man keeping everything together in his eyes, so even though people look down on him for not being the brightest, Storm knows in his heart that he’s more important than anyone will ever know. But he’s okay with that, because he’s the bigger person— literally and figuratively— so their assumptions don’t matter anymore. Even if no one else knows it, he is the backbone of the Babylon Rogues, the cogs that run the machine, and his ability to do it without recognition makes him the most valuable member. He’s quiet about it, but that’s precisely what makes him more vain: Storm thinks he’s above the petty feud between you and Jet since he doesn’t fight for the recognition. That’s my thought process.”

Wave began slowly applauding as she approached the chameleon, who had unknowingly paced around her workshop and grown more passionate and outspoken with every word, spiralling into the rambles of a madman. Hell, he was still completely oblivious to how quickly he lost all composure, basking in the pride of completing his monologue.

However, as the swallow became a concerning level of close without uttering a word, Espio started returning to his senses, realizing how far he overstepped.

At this point, Wave was inches from his face, merely held back by the chameleon’s horn.

Cheshire grin overtaking her vaguely amused expression, she spoke lowly,

“I lied.”

Espio, uneasy, backed away ever so slightly in confusion, “What?”

“I lied,” the mechanic repeated. “I’m the vain one, wanna know what gives it away?” she asked, still speaking ever so slowly.

When he didn’t respond, Wave barely held back a giggle and jabbed the chameleon’s shoulder with her finger;

“I just got you to ramble out justifications to take the heat off me and put it on Storm. You didn’t even see it coming,” she admitted earnestly, yet her condescending and mocking tone remained intact.

Espio, although flustered, was too stubborn to let this reasoning slide; “Maybe, but that doesn’t make you vain. Vain people don’t need external validation because they already know their worth: just like I noted about Storm. If you want attention this badly, you’re not vain, you’re desperate.”

Almost immediately after opening his mouth, the chameleon was certain he had fucked things up completely this time. Perhaps this was a good reminder to why he stopped going on arrogant, thrill-seeking battles of wit, and became the stoic voice of reason for his team.

He expected a heated comeback of sorts, or perhaps a slap to the face, but the mechanic did neither.

Sneer melting into smile, Wave managed to surprise the chameleon again:

“Oh, I like you. You’re not leaving this workshop anytime soon, so get comfortable,” she commanded, gently bonking his horn before gliding back to Omega, solder in hand.

Still in shock, Espio shook his head and blinked repeatedly before reluctantly accepting that what just happened really did occur, “I’m sorry, what?” he rasped out, bewildered.

The mechanic, who was now resoldering the motherboard like it was nothing, couldn’t resist giggling this time; “You’re smart, stubborn, sarcastic, and socratic. Where else am I gonna find discussion like this!?”

Laughing nervously, the chameleon wondered how he could politely reply; “Well, I appreciate the um, compliments? But I should really be getting back to the restoration— Operation Big Wave and all, he explained.

“That’s going to fail and you know it,” she retorted, “Just stay here and pretend you showed up! They won’t know the difference.”

Espio could have argued against her logic, but he not only knew better, he knew that Wave knew he knew better. And that, in itself, was an inescapable position.

“Can you at least put some music on?”

“Only if you’re in the mood for Warped circa 2008.”

Yeah, this would definitely be a better use of his time.

[anincorrectpetunia]

…

3:57 AM

Whiskey and wine should not mix. But here she was, more than an hour after he left her wet and wanting at her own door. After two glasses of wine, she needed something stronger to make her forget—both the promise of the night they had and the early morning she never received. Thinking about the former made the lack of the latter sting even more. She had raided her mini bar and found whiskey.

It made her feel pretty. And reckless.

Enough to compel her to pick up the phone, call Fitz and give him a piece of her mind. How dare he kiss her like that. Whisper that he wanted her whilst his dick was knocking at her entrance.

She groaned at the memory.

Now he was ignoring her. She ended the call before his voicemail could pick up. Five minutes and two more swigs of whiskey went by before she tried again. The result was the same: no answer. This time, though, she would leave a reply.

"Hey!" That came out aggressive and louder than she thought. Olivia quickly softened her tone, lowered her voice. She was not angry like she had first thought. The low feeling she carried was full of so much more than that, and she was not confident that what spilled from her mouth would express the plenitude of what she felt.

"Hi, hi. I've been drinking whisky, so pardon if I'm impolite. I just really wanted your…you here with me tonight. Hey, that rhymes! Poetic lines, right? Sorry. I uh…I've been thinking about you. I keep thinking about you. About us. I lo—I don't…want to lose you is the only thing on my mind. I can't believe I'm saying this…"

The whisky tumbler rest against her forehead. Was she high? You can't get high from drinking, she self-scolded. Did she almost say that word? High sounded good right now, somewhere above the clouds.

"You should…come over. I'll pour us a drink, babe…"

Suddenly, she was sounding like Adele and it surprised Olivia. She pulled back the phone from her face and looked at the screen, as if someone else had said it. Where did that East London accent come from? Maybe the remnants of hearing her mom speak on the phone to the cousins she left behind.

"But I'm too late, aren't I? I mean…it's late. After 4 AM…I'm rambling now…"

She was not so drunk as to hold back from telling him that he lit a flame inside her she could never extinguish. No matter how hard she tried, he remained. She did not want to fight it anymore.

"I just…Fitz…I wanna go back to the old way. Our Tuesdays. You, with your scotch and me, with my wine. You know, talking to you. Being with you. But I'm not. Instead, I'm here with empty bottles and a little too much to say…"

A hand dragged down the side of her face. She hiccupped like a cartoon character. Suffering succotash, she really should go.

"Ok…bye."

Faded and fading into the night that was quickly becoming day, Olivia's eyes began to shutter before regret could wag its finger. Maybe it was quixotic to think she could have those things she saw in the night sky on Maroon's rooftop. All of it like nothing she had ever experienced before. And therein lies the rub. She could leap and he could catch her. Or she could step off a ledge to be disappointment's assured victim. A fifty-fifty forecast for success did not bode well for leaping. Not at all smart.

Olivia was halfway to dreamland before she heard Connie's voice: but does it feel right?

From Episode 11

[wahrhelt]

THE TRUTH THEOREM

RP blog for Reshiram (including gijinka form), written by Necro.

Necro | it/its pronouns only | 25+

Read the fucking pages pweaseeee

Mun | Muse

Rules underneath.

Blog is a wip as of now.

Absolutely no ooc drama. Unless someone actively abuses other people or writes illegal content, I do not want to hear it.

This also goes for proship/anti ship talk. I simply do not care. So long as every muse involved is legal and able to consent, as well as human intelligence and the ability to communicate consent, it's fine to me.

Please do not softblock me. Always hard block me. If you softblock me, I will likely think tumblr made a mistake and refollow. I'd rather not force my way into spaces where I'm not wanted.

I do not send in passwords.

I will not follow back if I'm not interested or see too much ooc drama on your blog.

This blog is a hobby. Roleplay is a hobby. I'm not here to have every flaw of mine scrutinized. I will be liberal with the block button if I feel the need to.

I will generally send a reminder if we have a thread going if you haven't replied in two days or longer. If you want to drop a thread, please just tell me. I will not be mad. I just want to know, otherwise the anxiety will drive me insane.

Let me know if you need anything specific tagged. - Triggers are otherwise tagged as #Trigger/ - Please tag trypophobia, eye gore, mouth gore, and pregnancy for me.

Shipping is only done via chemistry. One sided insta crushes on your muses end are permitted, but don't force a ship on me.

I will not interact if I cannot see our muses interact for a longer period of time.

Blog will contain a LOT OF CRACK sometimes. It's the best way for me to cope with heavier thread topics. If you don't like that, you can blacklist the #Crack.; tag.

I'm too old for dumb fights over who's right and who isn't. Don't come into my inbox expecting to change my mind on drama. It will only get you blocked. - This goes both ways. I myself don't engage in pros.hip and never will, but I tolerate them on my blog so long as what they write isn't fucking illegal. But should any pros.hip person try to force their disposition on me, they will also be blocked. - If you don't like that, leave. The door exists. It's called the un/follow button.

Once again, with feeling this time: This is a hobby. Not a moral or ideological crusade.

I'm an abuse survivor, stalking survivor, grooming and child sexual harassment survivor. If you even so much as fucking dare to insinuate that I support any of that shit because I don't give a fuck if someone is pros.hip in my vague vicinity, you will get the block and never return button.

I cannot believe how many of these rules have to be about pros.hip and antis.hip, but apparently this is the world we live in now.

I know these rules sound really harsh and aggro, but I really want to make sure people understand where I stand. I've dealt with enough trauma from this website and its bullshittery, please don't make me relive it.

I promise beyond that I am a very kind and patient person. It just fucking sucks I have to be so aggressive about enforcing my rules because we can't have nice things on this hellsite.

I will never be mad if you block or unfollow me because something I write makes you uncomfortable, but if you need to talk to me about literally anything oocly (and it doesn't violate an abovementioned rule), you can always DM me. I don't bite and just want to be friends and write.

I have several mental health problems, please be patient with me.

If I like and unlike your post several times, it's not me trying to force your attention. It's me having to follow an OCD impulse. I apologize in advance.

[cascowriteswords]

4 in the moment kiss where they’re enemies to lovers. Maybe coworkers? 🤔

I technically cheated and combined these two but I think it's okay because it ended up being over 3k words 😅

...

“How do I say you’re fucking insane if you think I’m doing all of this without getting fired immediately?” Clarke asks Raven, who sits in the cubicle across from hers. 

“The new boss?” Raven asks, still typing away without taking her eyes from her screen. Looking to be just about as overloaded as Clarke feels. 

“Yeah. She’s already getting on my nerves because she’s rescheduled our initial meeting like 4 times now. And she keeps sending me things that don’t even have anything to do with my department. I’m the director of People and Culture. I'm not a recruiter. I’m not in marketing. And I’m sure as shit not her personal assistant either. And it’s like -” she glances at the corner of her screen for the time “3 o’clock. I’m supposed to do the jobs of 4 people and still get out by 5? Or does she expect me to pull overtime on a Friday night? Like there’s no way I could possibly have plans. Maybe she’s one of those people who thinks that just because I’m not married and don’t have kids she can shove off everyone else's work on me.”

“Lexa’s a busy person Clarke. I really don’t think it’s personal.”

“Personal or not, it’s not fucking happening. So help me with this email or else your next cube neighbor might be some insufferable old white guy whose all-natural deodorant is just really not working for him.”

Raven relents, finding a stopping point in whatever exactly she’s doing to get up and shoo Clarke out of her chair. She ends up deleting 98% of what Clarke had written, swapping out phrases like “why the fuck didn’t you tell me you needed this done sooner” and “that’s not my fucking problem” with more diplomatic phrases such as “I’ll schedule those meetings for you at your earliest availability” and “I wasn’t involved with that project but I will forward your request to the appropriate parties”, respectively. 

“You’re weirdly good at that for someone with the smartest mouth I know,” Clarke commends her when she’s finished. 

“It’s all about balance, babe. Now can I please get back to my job? Or the Commander’s going to fire us both. Maybe your mom will let us turn her study back into your bedroom and we can crash there when we can’t make our rent next month.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. Then something registers. “Wait. The Commander? Is that what people are calling her?” she asks, a mixture of disbelief and disgust seeping into her voice. 

“Yeah,” Raven shrugs. 

“I get that she’s the boss but she’s not commanding me to do anything,” Clarke grumbles. She plops back down in her chair and starts typing angrily. 

“If you add anything to that that gets you fired after I just rewrote the whole thing for you I’m going to be so pissed,” Raven warns. 

“I’m not,” Clarke promises. “I just don’t want her to think she can walk all over me. Command me,” she adds, rolling her eyes. 

She ends the email with Hope this helps, let me know if you would like to meet with me to go over the roles of our departments and their directors to avoid misallocation of time and resources in the future and hits send. She hopes it's just passive-aggressive enough to get the message across without being able to be used against her.

She goes back to work, furiously attempting to complete the tasks The Commander had unloaded on her. She may not have kids or a significant other waiting for her at home but she does have a cat and a bottle of red wine and a new episode of her favorite shitty reality TV show to watch. 

So far the new boss has taken 2-3 days to return any of her emails. So she isn't expecting it at all when she gets the notification that someone has replied to the email she just sent an hour ago. 

That sounds like a great idea. Come up whenever you are ready. 

Clarke's initial reaction is oh shit. Followed in rapid succession by annoyance and frustration when she has the realization that it's already past 4 o'clock now and this means she most definitely will not be getting out on time, not that there was much hope she would, anyway. But still. 

She needs to learn to keep her big stupid mouth shut. 

"It was nice knowing you," she grumbles to Raven as she gets up and smooths the wrinkles from her slouch out of her shirt. Raven quirks a brow but seems otherwise unfazed as Clarke shuffles toward the elevator and her impending doom. 

…

…

Clarke knocks three times, half hoping to not be heard so she can say she tried and return to her desk. 

No such luck. 

“Come in.” The voice is muffled by thick oak and considerable distance but Clarke manages to catch it. She steadies herself and lifts her chin, prepared to simultaneously defend herself and give The Commander a piece of her mind as she opens the door and steps into her office. 

She’s wholly unprepared for the woman she finds sitting behind the desk. 

She isn’t sure what she was expecting but it definitely isn’t this. Lexa looks young, for starters, nearly the same age as Clarke. Her features are somehow both delicate and sharp, with high cheekbones and pouty lips and big round eyes that Clarke can’t quite figure out the color of at first glance. Chestnut hair is piled up on top of her head in a messy bun like it was originally down but she’d had enough by the end of the day, strands towards the front not contained by the hair tie and instead framing her face. 

Clarke’s first impression is that this might be the most attractive woman she’s ever seen in her life. Her second is that she looks tired. And her third, more of an observation than an impression, is that it looks like a bomb went off in this office. There are papers literally scattered all over the floor, boxes stacked along the walls and windows that would normally boast an expansive view of the skyline, and the couch against the far wall looks like it’s been functioning as a dresser and changing room of sorts with slacks and button down blouses draped over its back and arms. 

Between Lexa’s unexpected prettiness and the warzone that is her office Clarke momentarily forgets why she’s here and that she was even mad to begin with. 

“I apologize for the state of my office,” Lexa says, likely having followed Clarke’s gaze around the room. “It’s been a whirlwind trying to get everything in order around here. Titus gave us no warning about his departure and apparently was trying to run this company into the ground, by my estimations after going through what I could of the data.” She sighs, finishing scribbling something down onto a sticky note which she adds to a pile of other sticky notes on the left side of her desk. “Sit, please,” Lexa tells her, gesturing to the chair on the other side of her desk. 

Clarke has that tongue-tied feeling that she only gets around pretty women. And that - cannot be how she feels sitting across from her new boss, especially not as the leader of People and Culture. She forces herself to speak, reminding herself why she’s here and what her end goal is; to not get fired while also putting her foot down about the scope and limitations of her role. She decides to get right down to business, voicing her concerns, and finds Lexa to be… a very good listener. She listens so well and intently, in fact, that Clarke almost finds herself losing her train of thought because those eyes. 

And then she does something Clarke had absolutely not expected her to do - she agrees with her about the general mismanagement occurring and state of disarray in the company and asks for her input about the best way to move forward. She apologizes for sending a slew of information and tasks her way and explains that she never meant for Clarke to complete all of that work on her own or immediately but rather to delegate and get to things when she had the time. She thanks Clarke for her hard work and dedication and tells her that even though this is their first formal meeting she’s well aware of the hard work she does and is very thankful for her contributions to the team. 

Clarke’s been working in corporate culture long enough to be able to tell when someone is just blowing smoke up her ass. When scrutinizing Lexa’s words, all she gets is that she seems like one of the most genuine, down-to-earth people she’s ever met. She’s just swamped, stressed out, and working insane hours trying to fix all of the various fuck ups Titus made over the past 4 years as CEO. 

Very much to her surprise, she finds herself sympathetically offering to help Lexa get some things sorted out. And again to her surprise, she finds that she doesn’t mind staying and working in Lexa’s office with her, spending time helping her delegate work to other departments and creating a realistic timetable for the next few weeks with attainable goals. Clarke tells funny stories about some of the department heads as they work and Lexa spills secrets about the board members she works with after swearing Clarke to secrecy. 

She doesn’t even realize how much time has gone by until Lexa glances at the clock on the wall and looks at her from across her desk, stricken. “You should go home. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it’s already after 7. Thank you for all of your help, you really didn’t have to do all of this.”

Clarke didn’t have to. She definitely did not expect to want to when she had sullenly ridden in the elevator up here. Raven probably thinks she got herself kicked out of the 5th-floor window since she never came back to her cubicle. But now she finds herself reluctant to leave, especially knowing that Lexa will likely be here all night continuing to work. 

“Did you have dinner yet?”

Lexa looks up from her computer screen slowly. “I haven’t.”

"You just moved here, right? Have you been to Tomatoes yet?" 

"I haven't," Lexa says again. 

"It's a little hole-in-the-wall spot. Kind of…lackluster, but their tacos are to die for and the bartender is awesome. Would you want to go?"

"Now?" Lexa asks, pointedly surveying her desk that is, despite having been organized, still loaded with paperwork to be sorted through. 

"Yes, now. You've been here all day - I know because I've been here all day and you were here before me. Those papers will l still be here Monday." Lexa looks doubtful as she chews the inside of her lower lip. "Or tomorrow if you insist on working the weekend. But let's be done for the night. Both of us." 

This is so not how Clarke thought her night would go; standing in front of Lexa, her boss, The Commander, and trying to lure her out to the bar for tacos and a drink. Genuinely hoping she'll accept because even though they've been working she's actually had the most fun she's had in a while and she's not quite ready for it to end. 

Lexa looks at her thoughtfully, meeting her eyes. She glances down at her desk once more and then exhales, tossing her pen into a drawer as she shuts down her computer. She stands up and grins at Clarke as she takes her jacket off the back of her chair and shrugs it over her shoulders. 

"Alright. Let's go try these tacos, then." 

…

…

“You have to be kidding me.” 

Lexa turns around and hits Clarke with a smug, triumphant little smile. Then looks back at her achievement, a dart nestled solidly in the red bullseye circle of the dartboard, surrounded by Clarke’s failed attempts scattered haphazardly across the board. She’d gotten it on her first try, standing several feet further back than she even had to.

“You lied to me. There’s no way you’ve never thrown a dart before.”

“Do I look like I frequent establishments that have dartboards, Clarke?” Lexa asks, quirking a brow in challenge. 

No, she doesn’t. Not in the pantsuit she’s wearing, even after she shed her coat and blazer shortly after they’d arrived. One half of her shirt has come out of its tuck and the top few buttons are undone, the collar sagging open and offering the view of just a hint of collarbones on either side. Her cheeks are a little flushed from the one beer she’s had and she looks messy but somehow still put together. She’s undeniably beautiful, and she stares at Clarke expectantly waiting for some kind of comeback, unaware that Clarke can hardly think when she’s standing there looking like that. Existing in her space. Out of her comfort zone but still self-assured and confident. She’s unbelievably attractive, beyond what Clarke had even perceived when she got her first look at her earlier in the day. 

She’s so screwed.

“No, you don’t,” Clarke admits with a sigh. “I’ve been trying for months to get a bullseye. You must just have some kind of natural technique with your fingers.”

Lexa opens her mouth to say something, then seems to think better of it. But Clarke’s not having any of that. “What were you about to say?” she asks. “I don’t need you to pity me, Raven kicks my ass at darts on the regular.”

Lexa doesn’t answer right away, looking at Clarke like she’s searching for something. Clarke can’t tell if she finds it but waits patiently. “It’s not appropriate,” she says after a moment. 

Interest - piqued. “We aren’t at work right now,” Clarke reminds her. 

“But you’re human resources, essentially,” Lexa laughs, a little nervously. “Seems like a grey area.”

“We don’t call it HR because of the negative association that’s been tied with it over the years. Like this, it makes people nervous. So yeah, I’m technically HR, but I’m not a narc. And you’re the CEO anyways.”

“Which makes it an even greyer area.”

“Lexa, come on. We’ve been having a good time, right?”

She nods. Weighs her options for just a few more seconds and then says, “I was just going to say that I’ve been told I have a natural technique with my fingers before. In…other contexts.”

It takes a second for Clarke to process and then - oh. Oh. 

She’s glad she hadn’t taken another sip of her drink because she might have choked on it. 

She swallows, trying to gather herself, absolutely not letting herself take a closer look at Lexa’s hands because she’s already noticed that they’re nice but she hasn’t scrutinized them beyond that. “That was extremely inappropriate, Miss Woods,” she says, calling on her stern business-woman voice that she’s perfected over years of dealing with employee relations issues. 

Lexa’s eyes widen. “Clarke, I told you that I didn’t want to overstep. I’m sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have -”

Clarke doesn’t have the heart to watch her flounder for more than a few seconds. She cuts her off. “It was inappropriate, but I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” She feigns more confidence than she feels as she puts a hand on Lexa’s knee reassuringly. A small gesture to make it so that Lexa isn’t the only one who has crossed a line tonight. Lexa looks a little shell-shocked, looking up and down between Clarke’s hand and her face enough times that it’s almost comical. Clarke squeezes her leg once and then lets go, standing up from the stool she’d been sitting on as she watched Lexa play darts. “Come on, let’s go sit at the bar. The next thing I want to make you try is their southwest egg rolls.”

She grabs Lexa’s hand like it’s no big deal at all and pulls her towards two open seats. 

…

…

Clarke’s not sure that Lexa has ever eaten greasy bar finger food before but the southwest egg rolls are definitely a hit. The noises Lexa makes as she eats them tell her as much, and also do things to her. But they don’t affect her half as much as watching Lexa amicably interact with some of the old townies who are also sitting at the bar with them. It turns out Lexa knows enough about baseball to hold her own talking to Bonafide Baseball Expert Jim McDonnel and she doesn’t bat an eye when a very drunk Mary Lou bumps into her seat and then talks about her 13 cats for five minutes until the bartender mercifully calls her attention back down to the other end of the bar where her actual seat is. 

Clarke feels a little bad for subjecting high-class Lexa to this place but she doesn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, when she turns to look at Clarke her eyes are bright and her smile is genuine and she says, “Thanks for showing me this place. It’s great.”

Clarke kind of adores her and her big dopey smile. And that’s a really scary thought to be having about her boss of all people but she’s rolling with it. Whatever it is between them, chemistry or connection or some other unnamed thing, it’s off the charts.  And Clarke can’t take it anymore, especially knowing that the night is starting to come to a close. 

Lexa is already sitting close enough that their knees are knocking together and it’s not much distance to close between their mouths at all. She doesn’t have the tact or inhibition to do it slowly, just leans in and kisses Lexa like she’s been wanting to do all night. It’s heated and languid immediately and she finds Lexa only needs a fraction of a second to adjust to her surprise before she’s kissing back, open-mouthed and hungry. 

It’s stupid Jim McDonell’s hooting and hollering that breaks them apart less than a minute later, reminding them that they’re very much in public and kissing in a way that is very much not chaste. 

A realization that is quickly followed by the fact that Clarke just kissed her boss. “Sorry,” she says quickly, trying to catch her breath. 

Lexa holds her gaze. Licks her lips like she’s trying to taste what’s left of Clarke on them. Clarke tries not to visibly squirm in her chair as she watches, and looks back up when Lexa finally says something. “No you aren’t.”

Clarke’s alma mater would probably revoke her degree if they heard her response. “No, I’m not.” Lexa smirks, then not so subtly looks at Clarke’s mouth, desire clear in the intentness of her gaze. “Do you want to get out of here?” 

When Lexa’s eyes flick up they’re darker than they were before. Heat flares in the confines of Clarke’s lower stomach and settles between her legs. “Very much so.”

Clarke’s hand flies up, flagging down the bartender to close out their tab without taking her eyes off Lexa. She tips generously and laughs when Lexa grabs her hand and tugs her hurriedly back towards the car. 

On second thought, maybe she should open her big fat mouth more often.

[watermelonlovershigh]

Deck the Halls (SMUT) /blurb/ (12 days of blurbs)

Alternate Title: Harry Fucks You on the Couch & Comes Prematurely

Day 12. > December 25, 2021

AN: Merry Christmas Everyone!!!!! and the person who requested this sadly blocked me for what ever reason so yeah..... why request stuff to not even want to associate with me?

This story contains: fluff, smut

{ husband!harry - soft!harry - any solo era }

word count: 566

12 Days of Christmas Blurbs Masterlist (all previous/coming up blurbs here)

You and Harry have some couch sex and he decks (decorates) your walls with his cum.

Harry went out the the pub with a few of his mates. You stayed home and just watched some Christmas films on the tv. When it started getting late, your eyes begun to shut and you accidently feel asleep on the couch.

Around midnight, Harry comes home to find you asleep, snuggled into the cushions and smiles at the cute sight. He pads over towards the sofa and peels the blanket back, sliding under it with you and lays on top of your chest. You groan before waking up and becoming aware of Harry cuddling you. "Hi, did you have a good time?" you whisper.

Harry lifts his head and mutters, "Yeah, drank one or two beers with the lads. M' not drunk though."

"You know I wouldn't have cared if you were, babe. I'd happily take care of you. Plus, you're a cuddly drunk and I think its cute." you retort back while scratching your husbands scalp.

"I know but last time I got drunk I puked in Niall's car so I promised him I'd not drink as much. And I didn't. You have a very responsible husband, yah know?"

You giggle and reply, "Yes Harry, you're very responsible."

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

After laying like that for a couple minutes, you feel Harry start to rut his cock against your thigh. That's when you realize he's fully hard.

"Were you....... wanting to do something about your little problem?" you question slowly.

This has Harry sitting up so he's straddling you and chants, "Yes, yes. Please!" He didn't want to bluntly ask because he didn't know if you'd be in the mood but you're honestly always in the mood for him.

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

Clothes go flying across the living room and next thing you know, Harry is pounding you into the sofa. His legs are on either side of your hips and he's holding himself up with his hands on your shoulders. You've placed your hands on his hips, helping him collide with your pussy harder.

You look up and moan at the sight. Harry above you, torso stretched out and head tilted back. "Fuck." you hiss.

Harry looks down while keeping a steady rhythm and knowingly asks, "Yeah, feel good? Taking my cock so well aren't yah? M' gonna deck your walls."

"What?" you burst out laughing. Did he really say he was gonna deck your walls like the Christmas song Deck the Halls.

Harry's face turns a shade of pink before he drops down and hides his face into your neck from embarrassment. "I don't know why I said that. It sounded better in my head."

You move your hands to his back, holding him tightly to your body, and coo, "It's alright, babe. You can go right ahead and deck my walls. Want them painted white with all your cum. Maybe giving me a baby."

"Nhn, shit. I'm coming, fuckin hell." Harry moans loudly. This is the first time Harry has ever came prematurely. It was a mixture of you being so straight forward and telling him to come inside you and you saying that he might be giving you a baby.

When you feel Harry's hot cum shoot up into your cunt, you hurriedly reach down and attach your fingers to your clit. Then you start rubbing aggressively and soon enough, you're coming with him.

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

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITTING IS NOT EASY AND ITS FREE SO JUST DO IT)

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______________

Masterlist (regular smut, fluff & sicfics)

My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST

Harry Styles Series - One Shots & Blurbs Masterlist

Harry Styles blurbs, concepts, & short stories Masterlist- (short writing with little to no dialog)

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 4)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 5.3k

warnings: smut!!, overstimulation, oral f receiving, lots of dirty talk and begging, very very subtle d/s dynamics if you squint, slight angst??, awkwardness, pining 

Bucky’s heart was racing as he tried to prepare himself for what was coming.  It was never easy to watch that scene of you being fucked by somebody else— even if it wasn’t real, and even if it was technically your character that was getting fucked— but it was going to be an entirely new struggle with you a foot away, laying next to him on your bed.

“We only did two takes of this,” you remembered, talking over the conversation on-screen.  The smash cut to you being shoved against a wall, lips fighting for dominance in a searing kiss, made you chuckle.  “This we had to do, like, a million takes.”

Bucky’s hand tightened into a fist at the idea of you kissing this guy over and over.  “I’m sure he was real broken up about that,” he grumbled sardonically.

“No, I promise he actually was,” you defended, “I was terrible.  I kept laughing and ruining it, and it meant we had to keep starting over.”

That relieved some of his jealousy, hopeful that laughing meant you weren’t attracted to your co-star or turned on by filming a love scene.  He still felt his heart clench as he watched your shirt get pushed up and two hands (both flesh, like he was showing off or something) grab at your breasts.  Sooner than he was prepared for it, you were being thrown down onto the bed and moaning loudly, nails digging into his back as he stared down at you.

“I can’t even imagine how many guys have gotten off to this scene,” you shuddered.

I can’t believe I’m one of them, Bucky thought as he swallowed dryly.  “What about the guys on set?” he wondered aloud.  “Do they ever, you know, get…” he whistled and pointed his finger up straight, hoping it was enough to get the idea across.

You laughed, playfully shoving him on the shoulder.  “They have tape for that, to keep everything down in case they get a little too into it.”

Glancing to the screen, he wondered how this guy didn’t pop the tape right off.

“Have you ever…?” Bucky pressed, heart rate picking up as he pushed the boundaries a little bit.

“Have I ever… been turned on, while filming?” you finished his question.  “No,” you scoffed, sounding bemused and taking another swig of your drink.

“Why not?”

“I guess they’re just not my type,” you shrugged.

“Movie stars aren’t your type?” Bucky joked, but your answer was completely serious.

“Nope.”

He nodded slowly as he contemplated that, taking a moment to build up the courage to ask his next question.  “What is your type?”

You smirked a little, and he wasn’t sure at all what it meant aside from the fact that he was done for.  Whatever you were gonna say was sure to break his heart.  “Tall, dark, not famous…”

He could so picture you picking up fans at bars; you must have no trouble at all finding guys to mess around with.  Yep, totally heartbreaking.

“Good driver…” you continued, voice a little quieter and a little deeper.

Bucky cleared his throat anxiously.  “I guess that rules me out.”

“What?  You’re great; haven’t even blown any red lights or made illegal U-turns.”

“I mean, good drivers don’t eavesdrop on their passengers,” he explained, “especially when they’re with tall, dark, not-famous friends of theirs in the back.”

You laughed a little, half-lidded eyes looking him up and down.  He felt very exposed under your gaze.  “I didn’t mind,” you shrugged.

Oh god, oh fuck, Bucky’s mind raced, we’re talking about it.  All this time and we’re finally talking about it.  What the fuck do I say?  “I still shouldn’t have—” he began.

“I wanted you to,” you interrupted firmly.

“You… wanted me to look?”

“Wanted you to do a lot more than that,” you admitted.

He looked back at you with wide eyes, entirely devoid of thoughts or words or ideas on what to do in the moment.  Sure, it was pretty heavy flirting, but it wasn’t necessarily an invitation.  You said wanted, past tense, it didn’t mean you wanted him now.  Maybe you were just letting him know he missed his chance.  If he did the wrong thing and upset you, he’d never forgive himself.

“Seemed like you were pretty satisfied with what he was doing,” he remembered, hearing the waver in his voice and cringing.

“Only cause I was thinking about you,” you grinned.  “I do that a lot, actually.  I’m just usually alone when I do it…”

He shivered as you shifted onto your side and leaned towards him, reaching across his body to set your beer down on the bedside table next to him; with you so close, he feared his heart would beat out of his chest.  With the beer set aside, all you had to do was let your hand pull back to rest on his chest, and lift your leg up to rest on his, and you were straddling his side like it was the most simple, casual thing in the world.

But it wasn’t.  It was the most insane thing that had ever happened to him.  He looked down at you and blinked a few times, confident the hallucation would end but nope, he could feel the warmth of you radiating through his clothes, threatening to burn him alive.

“I’m usually in this bed, right here,” you continued slowly, and he had trouble keeping track of what you were saying with your finger trailing along his chest through his shirt, “warm under the covers, wearing a lot less than this, knowing you’re just a few rooms away and wishing you would come in here and touch me…”

"I’m here now,” he replied, just louder than a whisper.  “Can I touch you?" 

“Take off the gloves,” you requested softly.  He was quick with the right one, but hesitated before removing the left— the moment of truth.  Your breath hitched as the light caught the golden and black metal, and he winced.

“That bad?”

“No, no,” you denied, “it’s… sort of beautiful, actually.”

With you wrapped around his left side, it was natural for his right hand to move up your thigh.  His left hand brushing against your face seemed to surprise you, though.

"I'm sorry, is it cold?" he asked gently.

"A little," you giggled, "but I don't mind."

Demonstrating how little you minded, in fact, you slowly kissed the tips of his bionic fingers, getting more and more adventurous until you were suddenly slipping two of them into your mouth and down past your throat.

"Fuck," he shivered, silently thanking whatever gods were out there that technology made him capable of feeling the wet warmth of your mouth on his fingers.

"Just skin everywhere else, right?" you smirked.  "It's not a Swiss army knife down there?"

"Nope," he laughed, "flesh an' blood."

The blood aspect was especially salient as his cock filled so fast he thought he might pass out.  Your hand slipped down and started to ghost over the front of his jeans, and he fought every instinct to keep from bucking up into your hand.  You started to go for his belt but he sat up a bit.

“Wait,” he requested, clutching your shoulders a little; as soon as you looked back at him, he pulled you into a kiss, probably a little too aggressively but he was too pent up to care.  After all this waiting, he actually had to hold himself back a bit compared to how he really wanted to kiss you.  He moved his lips against yours slowly but with determination— and it was you, in the end, that started to slide your tongue along his lips until he opened them, giving him a chance to taste your mouth like he’d dreamed of for so long.  Past the beer was the unmistakable flavor of you, and he was instantly addicted to it.  His arms wrapped around you and held you close, one hand tangling in your hair a bit as you started to lean into his palm.  Your hands clutched at his shirt, the warmth of your touch managing to permeate through to his skin, and he heard the softest moan from you right against his lips.  It was perfection, and he would’ve been happy to stay like that forever if it weren’t for you sitting up to straddle him.  He couldn’t decide if it was the sight of you on top of him, or the weight of your body on his, or the feeling of your thighs clenching a bit just above his throbbing cock— it was probably all three, but he suddenly became so needy for you that his head was spinning.

Still absorbed in the kiss, he reached down and gently pulled at the knot holding your robe shut, letting it fall open before pushing it off your shoulders slowly.  You smiled against his lips and sat up, taking it off the rest of the way to reveal your entire nudity underneath.  You’d think that he would’ve wished to be naked with you, and that certainly would’ve made a few of his ideas a lot easier to act upon, but something about your bare body compared to his covered one— something about your mound grinding on his jeans like that— drove him fucking wild.

“God, baby,” he praised with a purr, running his hands all over whatever he could reach.  A movie could never do a body like this justice.  It deserved to be appreciated and worshipped in person, which was exactly what he planned to do.

“Your turn,” you giggled as you leaned down, unbuttoning his shirt hastily.  He was proud of the way you bit down on your lip as his skin was exposed, though he was also a bit embarrassed to reveal he was wearing his dog tags underneath.  “A little more metal under here than I was expecting,” you smirked, trailing an errant finger over the silver chain.  “There’s always more to you than meets the eye… what other secrets are you hiding, hm?”

Right now, he wanted you to have all his secrets.  He wanted to give you everything.  “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted first.

“I don’t think that’s that much of a secret,” you smirked as you finished the last button. 

He sat up to help you discard the shirt, shivering as your touch trailed over his chest, his abs; then his scars, and the rest of the arm.  He used it to pull you down by your neck for another kiss, testing the waters by getting a touch rougher and letting more of his desperation seep through.  You responded very well, your moans gliding from your tongue onto his as your hips started to rock on top of his.  “Needy little thing, aren’t ya?” he gently mocked, smiling as he started to kiss down your neck and onto your shoulder.  “Ridin’ me through my jeans, like a damn teenager dry-humping after prom.”

“Hnng, Bucky,” you choked, slowing down.

He grabbed your hips with both hands.  “Hey, I didn’t say to stop.”  

With a moan and renewed vigor, you moved faster on top of him, the rough denim clearly a bit too much for your sensitive clit as your thighs began to quiver where they were clamped down around his.  The stimulation on his cock, alternatively, was rather dulled through such thick clothing— it was just enough to keep him desperate, but not enough to get him too near coming, which was the way he wanted it at the moment.  If anything, it was the sight of you rubbing yourself on him desperately that put his restraint at risk.

“Can you feel how hard I am, baby?” he growled a little.  “Can you feel how hard you make me?”

You nodded with a little gasp.  "God, Bucky, I want it in me now."

"Not yet, pretty girl,” he soothed with a smirk.  “I need to taste you first."

He flipped you onto your back and settled on top of you between your legs; he kissed you one more time, resisting the urge to rub his hips on yours again before heading down south to suck your nipple between his lips.  You were so sensitive, moaning loudly each time his tongue circled the bud, and he moaned at the feeling of the skin hardening against his tongue.  He made sure to give some attention to the other one before making a show of kissing down your chest and stomach, looking back up at you with a stare that he could only hope carried all the weight that he was feeling.

"I get it," you grinned down at him, "this is how you reclaim your territory.  You're gonna do what he did to me, but so much better until I can't even remember his name, right?"

"Sweetheart, you didn't even remember his name thirty seconds after it happened,” he reminded you between kisses, moving lower and lower on the bed.

"So you're not trying to assert dominance over sexual competition?" you pressed with a gleam of challenge in your eyes.

"You need to stop reading those evolutionary biology books," he laughed, but then got a bit more stern. "Think of it this way: I don't see any of those stupid boys as competition.  They're nothing.  It's you who needs to know that nobody can make you feel as good as I can."

That seemed to shut you up for the moment, and he smirked before getting back to work kissing along your spread thighs and shaking hips.  He could already smell your need in the air, intoxicating to the point that he struggled to stay focused on mercilessly teasing you.  He wanted to taste you so bad, but he needed to hear you beg him for it.  He started with one finger gently exploring your folds, slow and light, until he felt your hips trying to push up into him for more stimulation.  Then all he had to do was kiss that spot right on the inside of your thigh that wasn’t quite where you wanted him, and you arched your back with a desperate whine.  “Bucky, please,” you whimpered. 

He laughed a little, amused by your little sobs and the way your hands clutched at the comforter beneath you.  “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.”

“Your mouth,” you gasped.

“Where do you want it?” he asked innocently.

You snarled with irritation but answered anyway.  “My pussy.”

“I don’t think I understand,” he encouraged, voice getting deeper on accident as his own arousal became too intense to ignore.

You growled frustratedly but got what he was getting at.  “I need your mouth on my pussy, Bucky, please…”

“Well, why didn’t you say so, darlin’?  All you had to do was ask,” he grinned as he roughly grabbed your thighs and buried his face in between them, sloppily exploring you with his tongue until your taste coated his mouth and overwhelmed all his senses.

“Fuck!” you yelped, shivering against him.  “Oh god, yes, Bucky, oh my god…”

“Is this what you wanted, pretty girl?” he asked, pulling back just as much as he needed to to speak.

“Yes, Bucky, just like that,” you nodded wildly, “feels so good, don’t fucking stop, please—”

He dove in again, finding a pattern that allowed him to suck on your clit and push his tongue inside you simultaneously.  That was the combination that seemed to rile you up most, your hands searching for something to hold on to until they suddenly found purchase gripping his hair, guiding him as your hips bucked against his face.  That was fine with him— more than that, in fact, cause he thought it was so sexy when you demanded control like that— until you switched from pulling him in to pushing him away.  That wouldn’t do at all; with a growl, he grabbed your wrists and forced them down beside you, holding them firm as he licked at you rougher and faster.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you sobbed, back arching so much that he had to fight to keep you in his mouth, “right there, right there— oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

He nodded, but it wasn’t permission; it was ‘of course you are.’

Your walls clenched so hard that your entire sex was pulsing in his mouth, your taste getting stronger in the same way your moans got louder.  He wanted to hold you there as long as you could, and that turned out to be quite a while; he stopped when your screams of pleasure started to push too far into pain, finally letting you rest… for a moment, that is.

He watched your panting breaths catch as he slowly pushed a finger into your hole; it was still pulsing a little bit from the orgasm, and was unbearably hot and wet.

"Fuck, this pretty little pussy is tryin' to suck me in, you see that?  Wants me so bad…"

"M-more, Bucky, please," you whispered.  He obeyed and slipped in a second finger, slowly twisting and trying to open you up for him.

"You like that, pretty girl?" he asked with a smile as he watched your back arch, returning to suck on your clit without waiting for an answer.  He relished the weight of your thighs on his shoulders, taking mental note of where he had to touch you to make them clench around his head.  You kept repeating 'yes' but he didn't think it was intended as an answer to his question because he was pretty sure you hadn't even heard the question.  Still, it was answer enough nonetheless.

He could tell it wouldn't take that long to get you there again, with your g-spot all swollen from the last one.  He didn't push too hard on it yet, just letting his fingers curl ever so slightly to apply a teasing amount of pressure.  

"Don't you wanna fuck me?" you moaned between sobs.

His cock seemed to process that question before his brain did.   "Yes," he answered quickly, even though he thought it was rude to talk with his mouth full.

"Then get on with it," you suggested desperately.  "Come on up here and fuck me."

"I'm not done with this yet," he insisted.

Your head fell back as you hissed frustratedly through your teeth.  "Damn you and your… thoroughness."

"No point in doing anything if you're not gonna do it right," he laughed.  "Besides, I couldn't stop now when you're about to come."

You looked back at him for a second like you didn't agree with that assessment, until he curled his fingers again and your walls rippled erratically around him.  "Fuck," you shuddered.  “Please fuck me, please fuck me, please,” you sobbed, “I need it so bad, I need you inside me— Bucky, pleasepleaseplease—”

He growled against your skin, struggling to resist that but desperate to make you come just one more time before he gave in.  His cock really hated that he wasn’t giving you what you wanted, throbbing and weeping another drop of precum just to remind him of his own desperation.  But he stayed strong, focusing on his task as he felt your walls tighten around him with another orgasm.

You nearly screamed with this one, your voice breaking as your nails dug into the bed beneath you.  You looked fucking perfect with your head thrown back in pleasure like that— and you tasted even better as a gush of your arousal coated his tongue.  

He kept circling your bud with his tongue until you started to sob a little and try to push him off of you, “can’t take anymore, please—”

And he took pity on you, for once— or maybe it was moreso pity on himself as he sat up and palmed himself through his jeans.  He was so hard it hurt, and you looked like you could tell by the way you looked up at him: a glimmer of mischief in your eyes, still, even with the way they’d glazed over a bit from coming so hard.  “Get over here,” you purred as you sat up and pulled him down on top of you, kissing him again as your hands slipped down to clutch at his chest.

Of everything he’d imagined, he had never even thought to consider what it would be like to be undressed by you.  Those nimble fingers fiddling with his belt, working open his fly and zipper with such unabashed desperation, like you needed him more than you’d ever needed anything… truly, it was intoxicating.

Then again, it was nothing compared to your hand slipping into his boxers and wrapping around his cock.  He was sure he’d never gotten so much out of just one touch before, and he had to fight off the moan bubbling in his throat.  Your hands were so soft as they started to gently stroke him; his hips moved of their own accord as they started to thrust into your grasp.

“God, I need you to fuck me,” you groaned, “please, Bucky, need it so bad.”

Entirely speechless as this point, all he could do was nod as he pushed your hands off of him, pushing his jeans off quickly so as to be away from you as briefly as he could manage— and then he was on you again, kissing you everywhere he could reach, moaning when he finally let his cock brush between your legs for a moment.  Even just that and he was already coated in your slick: the rewards of demanding to be thorough, clearly.

“Please,” you sobbed, “put it in me, can’t wait any more, I’ve waited so long…”

It almost made him stop to think, because it was ambiguous if you just meant tonight or more.  But you were begging him for his cock so he wasn’t really in any position to think.

So many times he had wondered if your real moans sounded anything like your fake ones from the movie.  He fantasized for months about a chance to make the comparison.  But with you in front of him, under him, biting down on your lip as he pushed into your perfect warmth, he couldn’t even remember that you’d ever been in a movie.  He couldn’t think about anything else but this moment, right now, and he didn’t want to.

“God, Bucky,” you sighed, as if the two were being regarded at the same level in your mind— and he wasn't even halfway in yet.

Equal parts of him wanted to ease you into it and to tear you in half.  You'd always ignited this paradox in him, this instinct to protect and to destroy, this desire to cherish you and dominate you, but it was most apparent now.  It made him worry that he could never really give you what you deserved, but naturally, he was at his most selfish in this moment.  He had only just begun to push himself into you and he was ready to justify anything to get the rest of the way and bury himself to the hilt.

Your body opened up to him slightly, enough that he felt mostly right about going a little deeper; you gasped and clutched at his forearm, and that was only just barely enough to stop him as a sick pressure of arousal made his gut twist.  Oddly enough, your nails biting into his skin did more to egg him on than it did to slow him down.

He kept his eyes trained on where your bodies were joined, watching in awe at the way you looked stretched out around him; he could feel your struggle to take him in the way your walls quivered and quaked, but he could hear how much you enjoyed it as you moaned and gasped beneath him.

"I want it all, Bucky, please," you begged.  Just because he needed to, he was rough with the last inch— not enough for it to be really brutal, but plenty to elicit a precious little sob from you.

It felt so good to be all the way in you that it nearly made him dizzy.  

"Baby," you whispered, and it sounded just like the way you'd said it in the back of the car, just like the way he'd committed to memory and stowed away in his mind to visit whenever he needed to feed his addiction.

How could his chest not burn with jealousy when he remembered that night?  How could he cope with that jealousy with anything but pinning you down and fucking you hard and fast like it was the end of the goddamn world?

You all but screamed as he did it, your whole body shaking as he pounded into you.  He feared it would be more than you could handle but you went from wet to dripping in an instant, your moans loud and hoarse but undeniably a sound of pleasure.  It turned him on even more to know that you liked getting fucked this hard; maybe he didn't need to worry so much about holding back, if this was gonna make you bite your lip and look up at him like that.

"Bucky, oh my god," you sighed, a hint of disbelief in your tone, "it's so good, fuck, you feel so good…"

He wanted to hear more, but he couldn't resist capturing your lips in a kiss first, sloppy and aggressive and needy but overall perfect.  It was almost like he could taste your moans as they vibrated over his tongue, until he could barely tell his apart from yours anymore.  Pulling back, his dog tags were dangling over your face, and you looked so damn good with his name tickling your skin.  

When he lifted your legs and pushed them back up into your chest, you snarled and clutched at the sheets beneath you.  "Too deep?" he asked, not sure himself if it was concern or taunting or somewhere in the middle.

"So fucking deep," you answered, "but not too deep."

"Then maybe I'm not deep enough," he smirked, and you laughed.

"You're trying to ruin me, is that it?" you pressed.

He was afraid to be entirely honest, but your tone wasn't one of fear.  "Something like that," he admitted after a moment.

"It's working," you sighed as you pulled him down by the chain of his tags, kissing him again as your arms slipped around his neck and held him close.

His hands squeezed your thighs, before taking a detour to run up and down your legs.  It made you shiver, and he felt it from inside you which was overwhelmingly erotic.  The time he’d spent making you come so many times was paying off: for one, you were so wet it made him feel a little-lightheaded, but also it meant that he felt familiar with your body now.  He knew what it meant when your walls tightened just so, when you bit your lip that way, when your moans sounded all breathy and strained.  That being, of course, that you were about to come— and he couldn’t wait for you to come just from being fucked, make a mess all over his cock.

And yet, there was still so much more to discover: like how it felt when your legs wrapped around his hips to keep him inside, or when your fingers dug into his shoulders as you looked up at him.

“Gonna come,” you warned him with half-lidded eyes and your mouth fallen slack, “oh my god, Bucky, you’re gonna make me come.”

He growled and tightened his grip on your thigh— something to stabilize him as he fought so hard to stave off his own orgasm.  You felt so good and he could probably come just from the sight of you like this anyways, let alone being inside you right now.  Think about baseball think about baseball think about baseball—

“Yes!” you screamed.  “Right there, oh fuck, Buckyyyyy!” 

“Fuck,” he hissed, completely unable to think about anything but you, lost in the way you cried out his name as your walls fluttered and pulsed around him so perfectly.  

Maybe he was disturbed for thinking you looked pretty with your eyes filling with tears.  He was definitely disturbed for taking some pride in making you cry.  Of course, only because he was making you cry from this.  If he had it his way, Bucky would make you cry in only this way, every day, forever— and make sure nobody made you cry in any other way, while he was at it.  You hiccuped your sob as he continued to pound into you, refusing to let up even as he leaned down to kiss away your tears.  “S-so good,” you mumbled weakly, “Bucky… please…”

"Fuck, gonna come— I'm gonna come," he stammered his warning.

"Inside me, please," you whimpered, "I want it inside me."

"Jesus Christ," he hissed, shaking his head in some form of exhausted shock.  You grinned, wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him closer to you until your lips brushed against his ear.

"Bucky, I want you to come inside me," you repeated in a slow whisper.  "I want every drop of your come in my pussy, I wanna be so full of you, I wanna feel it leaking out all night, I want you to make me yours."

How was he supposed to hold back anymore, with you talking like that?  With you weaving your fingers into his hair and tightening your legs around his hips, with you kissing him deeply and suddenly?  A weak moan was lost to your lips as he filled you, warmth washing over every part of him until he thought he might just melt.  You smiled against him, and he summoned just enough strength to not collapse on top of you and surely crush you with his weight.  Instead, he gave you one last kiss before burying his face in your neck, laughing exhaustedly.  

"Mine, huh?” he remembered.  “You really mean it?"

You hummed quietly, holding him tightly.  "I probably shouldn't answer that question just after you made me come a dozen times."

"No no, you should,” he pressed as he pushed up to hover over you.

You smiled and looked back up at him.  "I'm yours, Bucky."

He growled, leaning down to give your neck light teasing kisses.  "Fuck, keep talkin' like that and I'll double that dozen."

"My body couldn't take it," you asserted.

"I'd make you take it," he promised.

You bit down on your lip, and he couldn't help but chuckle a little.  You weren't as good at feigning innocence as you seemed to think.

"Oh, you like that," he posited.  "Maybe someday I'll tie you down and make you come until all you know how to do is say my name, hm?"

"Bet it wouldn't even take you that long," you admitted.  "I already feel pretty braindead."

Testing that theory, he reached down and drew light circles over your swollen clit with his thumb, even just that subtle touch making your legs and inner walls quiver as your back arched.

"Bucky," you whimpered as you tried to push his hand away, "s'too much, please…"

"Nuh uh, pretty girl, I wanna see you fall apart again.  You know how many times I dreamed of making you come?"

You shook your head.

"Me either, but I wanna keep doing it until I feel like I've reached a number that at least comes close.  I've finally got you in my arms and I won't let you go until I've made up for all the time I wasted."

Notably, his cock which had begun to soften inside you was now getting hard again, from some combination of watching you and feeling you in this moment.

“How do you feel about a second round?” he suggested with a smirk, even as his muscles ached already.  Your eyes went wide but your walls clenched, too.  That was answer enough for him.  “I might break you,” he warned.

“Promise?” you smirked.

[yearningandpatheticaboutit]

SPEAK FOR YOURSELF

CHAPTER 8: SHOULD HAVE JUST BEEN HONEST

warnings: violence, gun violence, blood, death, gore

wordcount: 6263

prev chapter

A/N: i started putting the next chapter at the end for convenience also this chapter is so messy the reason for the random perfect grammar and random parts with no grammar is because i got tired lol. thats all im sorry enjoy the chapter

***

San

"I really can't believe you brought a damn gun," I groan in the back as Woo drives unnecessarily fast. "And can you slow down? You want to get pulled over with an illegal shotgun in the back?"

He out a reckless laugh. "Unwind, Sannie. You know those fuckers are gonna have all sorts of excuses. Plus, Miss A needs to know we're doing our best. You know we can't have her losing faith in us."

I sigh and fall back into my seat. "Yeah you're right."

It's a fourty minute drive to Cita county, wherever this place is. My stomach is a little scrambled because of the mess we're about to make. One would think just because I did this often, that I'd get used to the feeling of sickening adrenaline. But I just couldn't.

The thought that something will go wrong drives me up the walls at every single moment. A man I've gotten used to seeing since I started high school is about to get cut up and devoured by the very gang that made him.

Its kept me up, I know its Yunho's own fault, but then I think of how badly I want to escape this. I think of how easily it could be me. That thought is exactly why I have to keep Yaera away.

It's exactly why I can't trust her to even be around this situation today. If anyone finds out about her, it will be a mess I won't be able to clean up.

I need to reply to her message. I have a gut feeling its passive aggressive and I don't know what to do about that.

I texted her all weekend when I should have focused on my test. But I ignored it, her sobbing on Saturday replaying in my head. And now I find out her parents have basically exploited her dead sister and is doing the same to her.

It makes me sick to my stomach. Fucked up parents who leave their kids vulnerable and broken before they even face the real world. No matter how unfair, you have to live what they did to you, when they were meant to protect you.

I guess we have that in common.

I decide to muster up a reply. Something must be wrong with me.

Me: What are your plans for tonight?

She's online. Her reply is almost instantaneous.

Y: I'm going to make a lot of money ;)

I narrow my eyes at her message. I wasn't aware she'd gotten a job. What am I thinking? Where would Yaera actually get a job? She probably plans to steal something.

Me: Don't get into any trouble.

I don't know what I'm doing by sending that message. I sound like her father and I know she probably won't listen anyway.

Y: You know I can't promise that. Anyway, shouldn't you be paying attention to your cousin?

"What are you smiling at on your phone there?" Woo asks me suddenly, making me lift my head. His eyes are teasing in the rearview mirror. "Your little girlfriend?"

I roll my eyes. "Why don't you focus on the road, asshole?"

"It is her!" Woo obnoxiously cooes. I swear I need to get him a girlfriend so he can stop worrying about what I do. "What did she do? Did she send you a cute message?"

Yeah, she's planning to commit theft. The usual.

"She just told me to enjoy my night," I say just to get him off my back.

"How romantic. So when are you letting me meet her formally?"

I scoff. "Never."

Woo's offended and a dramatic gasp pulls out of him as he nearly turns his whole body in the driver's seat. "How can you say that? You really hurt my feelings just now."

I kick his seat in the back, making him yelp. "Pay attention to the road!" I yell. "And no, I'm not letting anyone meet her. You're the one who told me to keep her away from this."

"Yeah, but I didn't mean from me!" Woo complains. "I'll pretend to be your cousin. She probably won't be able to tell anyway."

"No, Wooyoung."

"I just wanna see her personality!" Woo whines more. "I wanna see if she's right for you, you know?"

To think if this scenario was true, Woo would still be this nosy. I almost laugh at his desperate tone, shaking my head.

"So you know what's good for me now? Especially women-wise?"

"Of course. I need to make sure she knows your needs and how much of a crybaby you really are so she can let you sleep on her boobs."

My face heats up dramatically and I kick Woo's seat out of embarrassment. His annoying hyena laugh blasts through the air and I lean back into my seat. I'm not even going to dignify that with a response.

The rest of the ride is same old. Wooyoung blasts 1980s Cantonese pop, to "fit the mood" because he thinks we're in some Hong Kong crime show.

But as soon as the sun starts setting and the lights on the road begin to blur, its like a switch has been flipped.

Woo makes rough turns and parks in a shady neighborhood. We're feet away from a club with a neon lit sign flashing the words, "Nevada Dynamite". We sit in the car a few minutes, simply breathing. A car passes by and stops down the street as Woo slowly turns George Lam down.

"Are you ready for this?" Woo mutters. I nod without a word.

I pick up his shotgun and hand it to him while grabbing my crowbar. I pull my mask over my face and tighten my beanie as we get out and Woo locks the van.

Yunho's establishments don't really have an age restriction, maybe it's because he has a thing for minors. But either way, it isnt easy for us to make it past the door, especially when the bouncer immediately glares at us when we near.

"and who the fuck are you people?" he snaps. Woo walks ahead of me and flashes an overly cheerful smile, knowing he's about to ruin this guy's whole night.

"we got a message from Miss A. you sure you wanna send us away?" wooyoung says with a smirk. The bouncer's eyes widen in fear.

he doesn't get a chance to speak. wooyoung lifts the head of his shotgun and knocks it across the bouncer's face, throwing him to the side. he isnt knocked out yet, so woo slams the gun over his cranium for good measure.

i shake my head. this kid has way too much fun doing this. we barge inside the club, the neon lights and shitty techno music overwhelming. its pretty full, and i nudge wooyoung in the ribs when we get to the open floor.

he has the gun hidden underneath his jacket, but if it goes off at all we're fucked. "we need to talk to the VIP bouncer," i tell him and we look around suspiciously. "dont shoot while we're inside. if the cops show, we're fucked."

"i know, im not a moron." woo rolls his eyes at me but i have to make sure. he's trigger happy when left unchecked.

i look around worriedly. despite the intoxicating atmosphere i know this place is probably crawling with black dragons. if yunho is scared for his life the way he should be, he'd have this place fully invested.

a woman comes up to us in a tight red dress, a flower in her afro as she smiles. "evening boys, haven't seen you around here before. are you new in town?"

"not interested," i say, but woo nudges me in the ribs. the woman laughs, slightly offended.

"oh no, im just the hostess. my name is leana. can i get you boys anything? karaoke?" she offers with an unreal sparkle in her eyes.

"how can we get to the vip area?" woo asks.

leana's smile shrinks slightly. "oh no. thats restricted for the owner. but i can show you our other premium suites if you'd like a more private party."

yunho is definetely under this roof. fucking coward. i pull a small knife from my pocket and yank leana close to me so that her stomach rests against the tip of it.

she yelps, freezing on the spot. i sway her a little so it looks like we're dancing. i force a smile as she looks up at me in fear.

"why dont you lead us to the VIP room?" i say. "be a good host, yeah?"

"o-okay." her voice shivers as she turns around to walk. woo and i manage to stay close to her, with woo's hand on her shoulder as she guides us to away from the flashing neon lights and into darker fluorescents.

"please," she begs as we walk down a dim hallway. "i have nothing to do with any of this. i-i'm really just a nobody."

"arent we all, lady," woo mutters, not caring for the lady's obvious fear. we stop infront of a door and i push her aside, and she immediately runs down the hall as to not be seen.

wooyoung and i share one look before we both slam our feet into the door, throwing it open with a violent swing.

and of fucking course, yunho is there at a table with a shit ton of other gangsters. his eyes widen when he sees us and he jumps up from his seat.

"what the fuck is this?" he growls and looks at another guy. "mingi, your boys couldn't fucking keep anyone out?"

"no more running, asshole," wooyoung spits. "we're taking you home."

yunho shakes his head with a dirty laugh as men start to swarm us. i pull my crowbar from under my hoodie and glare. "not a fucking chance, kid. the next time you hear from me, i'll be on top of the drug empire in hong kong with zero fucks to give."

yunho gets up again but there's no way im letting him leave. i swing my crowbar against the head of a black dragon and shove its point into the stomach of another. soon the room is in all out carnage when they start pulling knives, and everything goes to utter shit.

i feel cuts slashing across my ribs as im forced against walls and surfaces, fighting for my life. wooyoung is using his shotgun like a sword, knocking everyone the fuck out. yunho runs out of the room when theres an opening, while a man just sits put at the table and watches everything unfold.

i punch one of the gangsters and grab his knife, stabbing it into his thigh. he howls like a little bitch, and i strike him across the face with my bar, knocking him straight into the table. the man stays at the table, smoking a cigar in a trenchcoat as if hes bored with everything.

theres money all over the table. bills upon bills. they mustve been gambling, or making a deal. i wave my crowbar toward the guy sitting as wooyoung beats the shit out of three guys in a corner.

"your boss is bold, sending you into black dragon territory," he drawls, blowing out a puff. "you must want an all out war, huh?"

"we want yunho," i heave, my shoulders rising and falling harshly.

"then you better go get him," mingi smirks. "you dont want him to reach hong kong, do you?"

"go!" wooyoung shouts at me, nodding to the door. "i'll take care of that bastard. you go get yunho!"

he wouldnt run now. i know this because hes most protected here. as soon as i make it out onto the open dance floor, seven guys show up to jump me. goddamn it.

one runs at me at full speed, raising his fist like its a rocket launcher. i move out of the way and grab his neck, slamming his head into the bar counter. people start screaming and running. everything is chaos.

i jump onto the bar and throw out my heel, catching two guys in the face. my breath is fast, it feels like im moving at lightning speed. i slide down and grab a bottle, smashing it over another guys head as he rams me into the bar. he grabs my head and tries to choke me, but i shove the broken end of the bottle into his cheek.

he screams and its a bloody mess. a punch reaches me from the side. it feels like im fighting with eight limbs, all the taekwondo and krav maga i was forced through during eighth grade completely saving my ass.

when theyre down, i scan the whole place. people stormed out of the club in fear. its empty. i run for the bathrooms to check it out. he couldnt have run, he has nowhere to go.

a couple starts rushingly gets dressed and runs out when i enter the mens bathroom,  complete silence following after. thats when i hear heavy breathing. its like hes trying to calm himself but its not working. fucking idiot.

i kick open the middle stall door and it hits yunho in the face. he whines out and tries to throw a punch, but i roll my arm around his neck and hold him in a downward lock.

"let go of me dickhead!" he screams, his voice tightening as i fasten my grip. "ple- fucking come on, san. dont do this. dont do this to me please."

im trying to choke him out. but the fucker is holding on for dear life.

"pleasse!" he wheezes, sounding like hes on the verge of crying. "please, shes gonna kill me. are you really gonna let her kill me? after everything shes fucking done to you? think of your dad– think of–"

BOOM!!!

i loosen my grip as a shot goes off. yunho tries to wriggle out of my grip, i quickly apply more pressure. what the fuck was that. wooyoung better not have killed someone.

oh god. if wooyoung killed a member of the black dragons we are screwed. we're dead.

yunho passes out between my arms. i drop him and quickly run out when i see someone in a hoodie, standing in the middle of the club. hes staring right at me, in an awkward stance like he doesnt know whats going on.

"get lost," i spit at him. he doesnt move. another gangster?

"didnt you fucking hear me?" i hiss.

"ohshit oh shit oh shit!!" woo comes running out, holding his shotgun and mounds of cash on his other arm. "we need to get the fuck out of here."

i cant even register what i want to say when i hear footsteps and the door push open. that guy speeds out like his life depends on it. fuck no.

"yunho's in the bathroom!" i yell to woo right before i break into a run after the gangster.

he has to be another black dragon ready to call for back up. when i get outside the club, hes already halfway down the road. i sprint after him like the devil himself is on my tail.

***

"you need to give me an extra hundred, doll. you didn't say it was this far out," the Taxi driver tells me when we stop outside the shady club. "You didn't even tell me it was a whole different county. Gas prices are high, you know."

i scowl and hand him another hundred. "Hey, do you think you can stay here for a few minutes. I'm just trying to find someone."

The taxi driver's eyes shine in amusement in the rearview. "Trying to catch a boyfriend cheating?"

i snort and look up at the light up neon sign. "Something like that."

it was a whole hour drive. A whole different neighborhood, district, nearly a whole city. The black van San got into is currently parked infront of a shady looking club.

I know San lied but wow, he really covered everything up in a few mundane sentences. I won't be able to describe how betrayed I feel till I find out what he's hiding from me.

"Five minutes max," the taxi driver says. "After that you're on your own."

"Thank you, mister," I nod and get out, running to the entrance of the bar.

BOOM!!!

the sound is loud and comes straight from the club. i try to lie to myself and deem it a firework, having grown up in a sheltered neighbourhood, but when i look at the taxi driver, his fear is so imminent that i know it simply isnt true.

"hell no! im outta' here!" the bastard hits the gas and speeds off, leaving me stranded. i watch dumbly as he rounds the bend of the street, abandoning my view.

well, yaera, it looks like youre on your own.

i check for security when i turn to the club but the whole place looks abandoned out front. its only when i creep closer do i see a man sprawled out at the door, completely passed out. at least i think hes passed out. respectfully, i dont care if hes alive or not. it just makes me want to find san.

i go inside, and the silence is quickly shattered by the loud grunts of men and splinters of chaos. glass shattering, things breaking. when i finally get onto the dancefloor, all i see are bodies across the floor looking like human wrecks.

did...did san do this? i know he can fight but this? is he fucking bruce lee incarnate?

im bewildered to my bones. a door bursts open on the side and i see san right there. and i have no words. im frozen on the spot as we stare at each other in disbelief.

he looks fucked up. so fucked up. hes bleeding but i dont even think he realizes it. he looks ten times worse compared to the last time i saw him fight. and theres a look in his eye ive never seen before. he looks like he wants to kill me.

oh. oh fuck hes staring right at me.

"get lost," he orders in a low voice, his body taking a fighting stance. he has no idea its me.

"didnt you fucking hear me?" he says even more harshly.

limbs. nows the time to wake the fuck up and carry me out of here.

"ohshitohshit–" i hear another voice panic, a guy coming from another door in the club. he has his arms full of money and a gun in his hand.

a shotgun. thats all i need to see for my legs to finally jumpstart and get me the hell out of there.

***

San

i barely have time to think of how jung wooyoung, my childhood friend and faux cousin just left the both of us unbelievably fucked. all because im chasing black dragon backup. and fuck is he fast.

"Hey!" i yell, running after them. wooyoung follows behind me, and my nerves and face are unbelievably hot from how pissed I am at him.

"should i shoot him?" woo asks as we chase after the guy, and i wish i could swat him like a fly.

"do not fucking shoot anything anymore!"

the man curves into an alleyway, short and scrawny and so annoyingly fast. i feel like a cat chasing a mouse, im also trying to catch my breath because cardio is so damn terrible.

when we get to the alley, the man is hoisting himself over a fence. he sees us, staring at us with a mask and hoodie on so we don't catch his face. really convenient.

i keep pursuing, because the best I can do is knock this guy out till he can't remember a damn thing. or i can toss him into a bin so his members dont find him.

i try my best to climb over the fence with woo, but the person is already halfway over another one. woo is faster than me, jumping over and dashing toward the black dragon. he climbs and jumps, grabbing the asshole at the end of his hoodie and giving one hard tug.

he falls from the top of the fence and hits the cold concrete below. but instead of being unconscious with broken ankles, he scrambles to his feet like a rodent. he tries running past me, but I block him and yank him by the sleeves, throwing him into the brick wall.

once he hits it, I stomp my heel into his chest. he lets out a pathetic yelp, sinking down to the floor.

"you saw something you shouldn't have," I say, breathing hard. "now you should forget."

i can't kill him, so a terrible beating will have to do. woo and I already have to leave the area before anyone catches up with us.

"damn, Sannie, you gave him one hard ass kick," Woo chuckles. I glare at him and his smile quickly falls away.

"I haven't forgiven you yet. Shut up and take his hood off."

woo sighs and rips the guy's hood off, and I swear my breath hits a wall.

my ears feel like they're about to combust because of the rage pooling into them.

"what the fuck?" woo yells, pointing accusingly. "isn't that your girlfriend?"

yaera wheezes in pain, looking up to us shamefully. she's clutching her chest and tears are spilling down her eyes, and the sight of her red face somehow makes this already shit night a hundred times worst.

"woo, help me fucking carry her."

***

helping yaera in the van while she's out of breath and unable to speak is good, because it distracts me from the absolute bullshit I know she's going to spout once she can speak.

woo throws yunho in the back, tying ropeties around his wrists and ankles. yaera watches the scene as takes in puffs from her asthma pump and i cant believe it. im actually surrounded by idiots who never listen to me.

she fucking followed me. i don't even know how she found out, or how she found me, but she did. she actually did. and on top of that she has asthma. who the fuck smokes cigarettes while having asthma?

i strap her into the seat next to me, and she's borderline crying from how hard i kicked her. i feel bad, but im so fucking angry. i wouldn't have hurt her if she wasn't here in the first place.

woo gives me a weird look when he gets in the drivers. "what the hell man..." he whispers, staring at yaera like she's subhuman. "you've got a shit ton to explain."

"don't you fucking start," i snap at him, not in the mood. everything was ruined at once so i might as well go off now that i can. "what about you? what the Hell were you thinking shooting at a black dragon, woo!?!"

"look, that mingi guy attacked me. he was beating the shit out of me and i did what i had to. plus i didnt kill him!" woo defends, having the nerve to mutter under his breath, "even though i fucking should have."

"and this?" i gesture to the cash in the van. "was robbing him necessary?"

woo sighs exasperatedly as he grips the wheel and starts the car. "look, i just thought if i took a little extra you wont be so broke at the end when Miss A eventually takes her share of the money–"

i can't believe this kid. "you did this for me?" I scream. "you aggravated our rivals after shooting them so i can have some extra cash? goddamn it, woo!"

woo's eyes are desperate in the rearview. its like hes realizing the magnitude of what hes done. like hes trying to convince himself mentally that it was worth it.

"but this is worth more. I-It'll pay off your debt so you'll be able to buy something f-for yourself for once!"

i open my mouth to yell again but I'm interrupted. "Y-You're in debt?" Yaera dares to ask in a breathless voice.

i glare at her furiously. "Oh, you don't even get to ask questions. What the fuck are you doing here? Why did you follow me!"

She flinches at my loud voice but I don't care. Instead she has the nerve to glare back, sobby eyes and all. "You lied to me, you asshole. so this is the 'thing' with your cousin?"

"so you follow me? are you fucking crazy or something?"

"you just shot someone and you want to call me crazy?" she raises her voice. "what about you? If I'm fucking crazy then what are you?"

I grit my teeth in rage. "you had no right to follow me."

"oh but i have every right. You're my partner and you're doing shit behind my back."

"do you know how much harder you've made shit for me?" i snap. "if you had just fucking trusted me i wouldnt be in this mess right now!"

she scoffs. "how can I trust you when you lie to my face about everything! you asked me to be honest and i was, and then you lie to me right after? what the fuck do you take me for, san?"

i lean back into my seat and let out a frustrated groan, rubbing my temples. i can't take this. im not used to this, i hate having to explain everything I do and reporting to someone like a fucking understudy.

"this was a mistake," I realize. "this partnership. it was a fucking mistake."

yaera shakes her head at me, her chest rising and falling rhymically, somehow angry as well. "this wasn't a mistake. dont you dare blame your dishonesty on me," she grits through her teeth. "if you stopped lying and just told me what i need to goddamn know, i would have understood i need to hang back."

"okay fine!" i heatedly admit. "i wasn't going to bring you here. you know why?"

her dark eyes light up daringly, as if she's hoping I'll say something mean or insulting.

"because I don't trust you." I sneer.

i want to tell her i dont want her to be exposed to these awful people and this hellish environment. i dont want her to die or get hurt. but i dont say that. it rests on my tongue, dying to come out but i know how she'll react.

the fact that she refuses to be kept safe makes me even angrier.

"really? I would never have guessed."

"i seriously don't fucking trust you. you're reckless and it's like you don't care about your life at all. there were gang members in there. Actual gangmembers and after what happened last time, i wasn't going to have you mess anytvhing up for me."

she shakes her head in disbelief and curses in Italian. it's a long one and I know she's insulting me.

"wow! you're fucking doing this again after you said you wouldn't! you really can't keep your word, can you?"

her voice is dry and unimpressed and its clear we're both in the same page where we just dont trust each other at all.

"saying is one thing, but can i really leave your life in your own hands?" I laugh mockingly at her. "you can't even take care of yourself. the fact that you followed me here, an hour away from where we live just to fucking see what I'm doing says enough."

"Really?" She clenches her jaw. "Do you have any idea what this looks like to me?"

"i don't. enlighten me."

she leans forward, the long strands from her hair falling loose on the sides of her face. " it just looks like you played me."

"what?" i scoff because where is she going with this?

"to me, the person you're never honest with. it looks like i gave you all my savings, in exchange for a partnership that's one sided. i gave you that money to work with you and instead of fucking holding your end up, you do your own thing, you lie to me, make your own plans, go off on your own and never tell the truth. is that a good fucking partner? Doesn't that sound like a goddamn scam to you? Because it fucking feels that way to me!"

her words render me silent, and i realize i havent even thought about it like that before. im glad we're driving at night, because my cheeks are flaming hot from embarrassment.

"do you think that's fair?" she asks me again, defeatedly. "i did my part. i did all you asked of me. but you don't do the same."

"what the fuck is going on, San?"

woo's concerned voice from the front reminds me that he's in fact in our presence. I groan and clutch my head, oh god wooyoung has been here the entire time.

im going to have to be honest now. all the things im afraid of are happening to me. i wanted to keep yaera away from the gang while getting her what she wanted, and already one person is aware of her existence.

this just keeps getting worse.

"we're not dating," i say weakly. "we're partners. she's helping me with the gang stuff."

"what the fuck, dude!" woo exclaims. "since when?"

"recently," i mutter.

he sounds like he's about to break the steering wheel. wooyoung starts stuttering aggressively before finding his voice again.

"And Miss A??? Does she know about this?"

"Of course not, woo. and I'm not going to tell her."

"B-But if she finds out. She'll..."

i eye him sharply in the mirror. "that's why no one's going to tell her. she's my girlfriend, that's all there is to it."

woo sighs heavily. "what the fuck man... and here I thought you were finally getting laid. why are you letting her do this shit? what possessed you?"

if i tell wooyoung now, while yaera is in the car, he'll say some shit and scare her into oblivion. i think we have enough problems at hand.

"whats going to happen to san if people find out about me?" yaera asks woo. an uncomfortable silence follows before wooyoung answers.

"you see that guy in the back? that will be san. and you? well, it depends on who gets to you first, our gang, or the black dragons."

yaera frowns. she looks mildly uncomfortable, but not as afraid as she should be. shes not running for the hills when she absolutely should.

"that...wont happen," i try to convince myself. "just–just dont do this ever again, please."

"we need to talk san," yaera and woo say at the same time, both in demanding fashions. my mind hurts just thinking of having to deal with both.

"this whole thing is causing me to detour. we're gonna have to take her home first before we can take care of yunho," woo says.

"im staying at san's," yaera says, eyeing me sharply. "im not going home until we've talked."

***

the rest of the ride home is agonisingly silent. yaera has fallen asleep, her head against the tinted windows as soft breaths fall from her lips. she looks so serene sleeping. and yet my brain has been terrorising me by envisioning her as dead.

right next to me.

i try to keep my mind off it and watch yunho instead. he randomly wakes up on the way home and i punch him again, where he sinks right back into unconsciousness.

its a dreadful feeling carrying yaera up to my apartment with wooyoung being so quiet. the most talkative guy i know is dead silent.

maybe hes preparing for whats going to happen tonight. we've heard tons of stories of people joining the 105ths, finding out they were policemen and then having them fall off the face of the earth. traitors are far and few because of Miss A. people are too fucking scared to betray her.

i put yaera down into my bed and just as i close her with my blanket, her eyes flutter awake. shes disorientated and sits up on her elbow.

"go to sleep," i urge her. she shakes her head at me and i sigh.

"not until we talk."

"we've been gone long enough, lets go," woo says and pulls my arm, staring at yaera and i in a tense way that has his jaw clenched. hes angry at me, and fuck he should be.

it didnt take long for everything to go to shit.

"she texted me the address," wooyoung tells me in the van as we drive. "a warehouse at the docks. thats where theyre doing it."

i stay silent and mentally prepare. emotionally i know ive already been ripped apart by everythign ive seen.

"please be honest with me, man," woo says and frowns at me. "i just wanna know what youre doing with that girl."

"she needs to skip the country, so shes helping me make money and im giving her a share of it."

"and she knows youre in the 105ths?"

i nod and woo's grip on the wheel tightens. here we go.

"does she know about the debt? your dad? miss A?"

"no," i lifelessly answer. "i havent told her any of that. she just knows the easy stuff. im helping her till she can get away from her family, then we'll never see each other again."

"the san i know would never agree to shit like that," woo grumbles.

"i didnt. she has leverage."

"what?" woo shouts, piercing my eardrum. i wince. "shes fucking blackmailing you? that bitch! lets kill her. we can get rid of her, san. what does she have on you?"

this is exactly why i never mentioned anything infront of her.

"a video," i sigh. "she just caught me in the middle of a deal with that yeosang fucker. she filmed it. my face is clear in it and everything."

"lets fucking kill her."

"no." i say in a clipped tone. wooyoung is staring at me incredulously. "dont look at me like that. im telling you i dont wanna do anything. she wont snitch on me, i know that."

"shes literally blackmailing you."

"her family is fucked up," i shrugged. "i was angry about it but it passed.im going to help her and im not gonna make it the gangs problem. so can i trust you to keep this to yourself until everythings over?"

"whatever man," woo shakes his head disappointedly. "if youre sure about this, i cant say anything. but..."

"just trust me, woo. i know you cant trust her but trust me."

woo nods grudgingly, his discomfort worse than what it was before.

we pull up on the dark port and the warehouse is to our left. woo and i get out and carry yunho to the door, where higher ups take him from us.

he wakes up while they carry him and hes already screaming when hes put onto a chair in the middle of the place. the lights shine directly on him, casting out his ghostly, terrified face to the public.

"good work," one of miss A's deadly machines says. he steps out from the shadows like a ghost, his dark and unhinged eyes making me severely uncomfortable.

park seonghwa. aka the butcher. ive only heard of him from woo. hes the copkiller of the gang, the one who punishes all miss A's enemies. when he gets rid of people, he makes sure they stay gone.

and they wont ever be found. not in one piece at least.

from his twisted smile as he stares at the horrified yunho, its clear to see why hes dubbed 'the butcher' in the first place. he looks like he'd eat your heart out of your chest.

"you can go now," seonghwa tells us with a wave. "unless you wanna stay for the show."

he pulls out a long knife from the belt on his black pants, its blade shining sharply from the light sliding across it. yunho starts screaming louder.

"fuck no! you assholes cant do this to me! no! fuck you! ive worked for Miss A for years! you cant just–" his screams rapidly turned to sobs. "san, wooyoung, please. you cant let them do this. i made a mistake. i was being blackmailed–"

seonghwa gives no warning for what he does next. the blade disappears into the flesh of yunho's stomach, his mouth hanging open wide as inhumane chokes come from it.

i want to throw up.

woo and i watch in horror as seonghwa pulls the knife out of yunho roughly, cutting him up all over again. "its always you cowards who beg for your life the loudest," seonghwa chuckles mockingly. "its funny really."

he starts stabbing yunho rapidly, with blood now dripping from his mouth. i turn around because i cant stand looking at the sight anymore. i want to cry but i feel empty.

i cant believe this is my life.

"youre gonna tell miss A we did a good job, right?" woo asks pathetically, failing to hide the fear in his voice. yunhos screams have gone radiosilent.

"of course!" seonghwa says with a laugh. "go chase that promotion, kids! have a good night!"

i get out of there as fast as i can. and when im out the door, i empty my stomach on the concrete.

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