#also swinging a bat at the part of my brain that keeps telling me i need to lose weight because i liked my face better X kg ago

[widevibratobitch]

i need to dye my hair i need to cut my hair i need to bleach my eyebrows again i need to shave them off completely i need to DO something i need CHANGE or ill go insane

[gretavanlace]

Poppins (part 10)

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: sexual content, language, angst, etc. Poppins has come to an end my lovelies, but I’ve an epilogue in store for you, so don’t despair. Also, I’m so sorry for the wait, your patience and understanding means so much to me and I appreciate and adore you all xoxo❤️

“Just ignore him,” Josh breathes unsteadily, lapping against your neck like he can’t stand to exist another second without the essence of you blazing a languid path over his tongue. “He’ll go away.”

A louder, more insistent knock sounds out, as if in argument. As if to say, ‘that’s what you think! I’m not going anywhere!’.

“Oh my god,” you squirm beneath him, but not in the way he would like, not the way you were just moments ago. “It’s like you two have some sort of bat signal for interruption.”

A sharp laugh sounds out of him, open and honest. Beautiful, and so very Josh. “I can assure you, sweetheart, the last thing in the world I want right now, is my fucking brother at the door. Lemme get rid of him.”

He rises reluctantly and walks backwards, fingers fumbling to fasten his pants and adjust himself, eyes on you while you slide up into a more presentable position and attempt to smooth your hair.

“It’s no use, love…” he flashes that blinding grin of his, pairing it with a wicked wink, “he’s going to know you’re wet and up to no good. You look gorgeously desperate.”

You feel your cheeks color further as you contemplate running off to hide in the kitchen. He’s obscene, and the effect that it has on you is concerning. Your entire body is wired up tight and thrumming. You’d crawl to him, should he hook a finger in your direction.

Your traitorous brain conjures that image - you, on your hands and knees, making your way closer to him, to his cock. You want him in your mouth. You want him to press into your throat, to make you gag, to shape you into something filthy for him. Something pretty on her knees ready to give without thought, should he ask.

The knock sounds out again, snapping you out of your salacious daydream. You’re reluctant to leave it, but bid farewell anyway.

“Shut up!” Josh shouts, slipping effortlessly into sibling mode as he twists the locks and cracks open the door.

He’s gearing up to tell his twin to fuck off, it’s evident in his stance and by the way he wedges his foot against the wood, like Jake might decide to push his way in - but in a breath, he swings the door open wide.

“Hey, baby,” the affectionate greeting tells you all you need to know - Jacob isn’t alone. “What are you doing up so late?”

Jake saunters in, winding around Josh, with a wide awake Lily on his hip - who is barefoot, dressed in a frilly, purple princess nightgown, and clinging to her beloved uncle. She shrugs and drops her head to his shoulder.

“Mom told me not to let her fall asleep on me,” Jake runs a soothing palm up and down her tiny back. “Said she’d wake up as soon as I tried to put her in bed. I’m tired of that woman constantly being right about everything.”

“Wanted to come home.” Lil hushes in her soft little girl voice, “I didn’t want you to be all by yourself.”

“Ah,” Josh waves off her concern and leans in to sweep a kiss onto the crown of her head, “you don’t have to worry about daddy, Lily-bit. I’m tough as nails.”

Jake’s eyes are locked in on you over their exchange, flashing with gleeful accusations. Josh is as right as his mother always seems to be - Jake knows exactly what he’s walked in on, and he is delighted to have stopped it in its tracks.

“And just look, lil…” he grins, clearly enjoying himself, as well as your furious blushing, a great deal. “Daddy’s not all by himself, Poppins is here to keep him company!”

She swivels her head around lightening fast, eyes thrilled and round with surprise.

“Hi!” Her greeting comes as a squealing chirp as she scrambles down out of Jake’s grasp in order to hustle into yours.

“Hi, Lil,” you gather her up into your lap and finger comb her tangles, while she settles in, smelling of no tear shampoo and sleep. “What are you doing out on the town at this hour, you little party animal?”

“Jakey drove me,” suddenly her face is close to yours, nose to nose, as she confides, “he turned the radio up loud like I like ‘cause I promised not to tell Daddy.”

You’ve yet to meet a child who possesses the ability to properly whisper, and Lily is no different.

“Jake,” comes Josh’s stern admonishment.

His brother cuts him off at the pass, “The Shining, man, you let my angelic, perfectly innocent niece watch the Shining.”

“I didn’t let her, I—“ he interrupts himself with a huff of irritation. “Thank you for bringing her home.”

At the faint hint of a goodbye, Lily is clambering off your lap as quickly as she arrived. “No, uncle Jakey, stay stay stay!”

When her tiny hand tucks itself away within his own, every heart in the room knows the battle has been lost.

“Alright, girly,” he crouches down and cups her chipmunk cheek. “I’ll stay, but you have to promise to go to bed. You need your sleep so you can rest that big, bright brain and wake up ready to learn brand new things tomorrow.”

He could have so easily reminded her of ‘beauty sleep’, but he chose to emphasize her insatiable thirst for knowledge instead, and you love him for it.

“I’ll try,” she shakes her head solemnly, “but I dunno, I’m pretty awake. Feels like morning.”

Your eyes have wandered to Josh, watching him as he watches them. There is that completely laid bare devotion that you’ve always seen, but also, something new…or at least, something you’ve never noticed before.

Wistful indebtedness is the only way to describe it, though even that seems to fall short. He is beholden to them both - unflinchingly, and for very different reasons.

Likely, it isn’t new at all…maybe you’ve just never looked hard enough.

He has told you as much before, but now you are seeing it unmasked for the very first time; he would lay down his life for his brother, without thought. He looks at Jake as though he blazed the sun to life with his own calloused hands - and when you think about it, that is exactly what he did for Josh all those nights ago, when they stood shoulder to shoulder, staring through the nursery window. Jake had given Lily to Josh, and lit up his whole world, bright as the sun.

Tears are clutching at your throat, but you shake them off and extend a hand out to Lily to make her an offer she can’t refuse “How about a princess bath, Lily-bit?”

Jake is forgotten in an instant at the promise of a princess bath, and she scurries over to grab your hand with the ardor only a child flying high on their second wind seems to be capable of. “Can I have bubbles and flower water?”

“Of course,” you promise, as though it should have been a given, silently praying that the little amber bottle that lives in the medicine cabinet is full of the lavender drops that will turn ordinary tap water into flower water.

A princess bath is reserved for very special occasions, and certainly, being awake so late into the night after an unexpected drive through the sleeping streets of town with the radio cranked up way too loud, ranks a special occasion.

“C’mon, daddy,” she grabs his hand as well, trudging through the room, on a mission to be pampered…and you catch sight of Jake settling down onto the couch to wait, over your shoulder.

It feels like abandonment somehow, leaving him like this. Alone.

But Lily is chattering on, and your attention is quickly refocused as you work alongside Josh to make her happy. More importantly, to relax her enough to wrangle her into bed and lull her to sleep with a story.

~

It takes less effort than you had originally feared it might, and soon you’re creeping from her wildly chaotic bedroom while he quietly reads her a story - complete with changing character voices and much enthusiasm - stepping carefully over dinosaurs that rest, reptilian feet and winding tails stretching toward the ceiling, next to half dressed baby dolls and toppled towers of blocks.

Josh is adamant about instilling responsibility, and while she is given regular tasks and age appropriate chores, he insists her space is her own, and has never once, in your presence, ordered her to pick up her toys from her own floor. The living room floor? Daily. But he never dictates her space.

The way he sees her as a person is one of your most beloved ways to watch him parent. So many forget that children are people with thoughts and feelings, who are lacking the skill set to navigate the world properly…that they need guidance, not policing. Josh never forgets that. Josh sees Lily.

There is a soft smile ghosting over your lips listening to him read to her when you step into the hall to find Jake leaned against the wall like some long-haired James Dean minus the popped collar and casual cigarette.

He cocks his chin in the direction of the backyard and then pushes off with the heel of his boot to swagger down the hallway “Come have a look at the stars with me, babe.”

You follow behind him, feeling a little like a lost puppy, but damned if you know how to do anything but follow these two men - so beautifully alike, yet so achingly different.

“What were you smiling about back there, pretty girl?” He asks, rasping words into the night the second the two of you settle onto the framed porch swing that graces the deck.

“He’s so good with her,” you’re smiling again, remembering. “I don’t know, it makes me smile. I want her to be happy and loved. Strong and fierce. He’s going to make sure that happens. It just…” you offer a little shrug as his hand finds yours in the dark, “it makes me smile, that’s all.”

His head lulls to the side in your peripheral vision, watching you “You love her.”

“I do.” You confirm with a slight nod, not trusting yourself to look at him. “Very much.”

“I love her, too.” He whispers, and finally, you turn to catch his eye.

“I know, Jake.

“You love him.” He’s no longer whispering, his words come fainter .

Your response squeezes painfully out of your tightened throat, “I love you, too.”

His reply mirrors yours that came before, “I know, poppins.”

It is silent for a long stretch before he breaks it, “Did he tell you? How all this came to be?” A soft chuckle precedes the joke he makes to lighten the heavy, “the tale of the Kiszka Twins and the fucked up ways we fuck up?”

You ignore his joke, and address it for what it was: something serious masked as frivolity “Do you think you fucked up, Jake? What you did? Do you regret it?”

Again, there is a pause, and you allow him all the time he needs.

“Sometimes.” He takes a deep breath. “I love her so much it feels like something separate from myself. Some sort of being in and of itself. Like there’s me over here, and then my love for that little girl over there. Because it’s just so great that there isn’t room inside my body for it all, you know? Does that make sense?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, “Yeah, sometimes I get selfish and regret it a little. Sometimes she looks at me with such adoration, such fucking complete devotion and all of a sudden, I want her all to myself. I want to grab her up and run away with her in my arms. But it always goes away just as fast as it comes, that selfishness…he’ll walk in the room and her eyes will light up. Or they’ll share some silly inside joke that I don’t get. Or she’ll ask a question and he’ll see it as a moment to teach her, where I would’ve just answered it…he’s her father and that’s the way it should be. He was always meant to be her dad.”

You’re cradling his hand in both of yours now, soothing your thumbs across his knuckles “You think? Like an everything happens for a reason kind of thing?”

“You look at those two together and tell me what happened didn’t happen for a reason.”

You raise his hand and press a kiss to the back of it, before sweeping your cheek against the knob of his wrist, “I don’t know how to handle all of this. Or what to do with you two. It’s like I can’t separate you in my head. I don’t want to choose. I won’t.”

“Now who’s selfish?” He laughs lightly, wiggling his fingers that are still laced and wound around yours.

“I’m sorry.” A gentle sob shakes your shoulders, and for a moment you wonder how you ended up here. How strange.

“Don’t be sorry, Mary Poppins,” his foot kicks out, swinging you both back and forth in the moonlight, “I’m not sorry, and I won’t make you choose. Can I tell you a secret?”

Lifting your head away from his hand, there is reluctance - his skin feels right pressed against your own, and you hate to part from it “I don’t know that I can handle any more Kiszka secrets.”

A laugh, much too loud for the hour, bubbles out of him “Sure you can, babe. I’ve already decided for you. I won’t leave tonight, because I promised girly I’d stay, but I’m gone in the morning, and I’ll see you when I see you.”

“What?” Is it that you really don’t understand his meaning, or that you don’t want to understand it?

He hums a little tune and rests his head on your shoulder, hushing soft lyrics into the air as he swings gently, “Bye bye, baby, it’s been a sweet love…”

“Jake—“

“Isn’t that what you called me? Free bird?” His beautiful face tilts up and then there is his nose, nuzzling your cheek tenderly, his touch far more innocent than you’ve ever known it to be before. “It’s time for me to go, and it’s time for you to stay.”

You’re prepared to fight, but for what, you’re unsure, “I know what you’re doing. You’re choosing for him just like you did with that goddamned band you guys had.”

Now it’s his turn for confusion. He sits up in order to get a good look at your face and prods you along with raised eyebrows.

“Your mom told me. What you did for Josh because you knew music wasn’t what he wanted. How you gave it up to make him happy.” You’re spinning out of control just a little, but you can’t be sure why. Isn’t this what you wanted? An easy solution?

It just suddenly so seems tragic. He’s given so much to Josh, and here he sits, giving still.

“Fuckin’ Karen,” his laughter is quieter still, and blurred sadly around the edges. “She’s got a big mouth, that one. She’s right though, I did give it up for him. You, on the other hand, are wrong.”

You so badly want to reach out and stroke your fingers through his hair, he feels like mist, like a ghost who is already gone. A memory who sits before you. But you think it’s best to let him speak, and so you do.

“I’m not leaving for him. I’m leaving for her.” As if he can read your thoughts, his fingers card through your hair. “You love me and you love him and both of us love you back and it’s this convoluted fucking disaster, but none of that matters. She matters. And honestly, babe, it’s not even that hard to walk away because it’s for her. She deserves someone who thinks of shit like princess baths, and someone to fix her hair pretty for her first day of school. Someone who’s going to know what to say to her when she doesn’t feel good enough, or smart enough. Someone who won’t get flustered and weird when she starts her period, or needs her first bra,” he shudders a little at that and it makes you smile. “Someone who will know how to make her heart hurt a little less the first time some idiot boy makes her cry. Someone who will know what to do in a million other moments that I can’t even name because I’ll never be that person for her, and neither will he. She needs a mom. She needs you.”

“Don’t you think you’re putting the cart before the horse, Jacob?” You ask, though you don’t feel the conviction you’re desperately trying to color your words with.

“No, I don’t.” He’s never sounded so sure of himself, and that is a feat, as Jake is almost always sure of himself. “Not at all. You belong here. With her. With him. And I belong god knows where, playing for pretty girls who will never be you.”

“I love you, Jake.” You’ve said it already tonight, out here amongst the crickets and the dewy grass that could use a trim, but this devotional feels like the last.

His arm stretches out to pull you in “But you love him, too, don’t you, babe?”

“Yes,” And that is the truth…

He presses a kiss against your temple “And you love her?”

“More than both of you combined. More than myself.” And that is the truth, too.

“Well, then, Mary Poppins,” he sighs as you sway in the swing, the muted creak of its chains keeping time. “It seems we’re on the same page.”

“Will it really be so easy for you to walk away?” You can’t help but hope there will be at least a hint of melancholy in his tone…but there is nothing but content in his reply.

“For Lily? Yes. The easiest thing in the world.”

~

When you wake, it is with Josh curled up warm and snug around you. He soothes your soul like a security blanket. And even given the events just hours before, you feel serene…like you’re floating through calm, perfumed waters with tranquil skies overhead.

You hear him, of course you do, his voice will always perk your ears, you suspect - and maybe that’s okay.

Yes, you hear him. Speaking to her gently, giggling with her, singing to her, telling fanciful stories of what he’ll get up to on the road.

You listen to him remind her of how smart she is, how grand her heart is. He makes her promise to call him all the time, and to give uncle Sammy grief every chance she gets.

He says, “Listen to your daddy, girly, and make Poppins laugh at least once a day, just for me.”

…and then, with a click of the front door, he is gone.

Tears threaten in your eyes, but then there she is, climbing up onto the bed with Josh’s mangled maroon shirt clutched dutifully at her side.

“Can you make me pancakes?” She asks, crawling through the sea of blankets…and you smile, because you can make her pancakes. Of course you can.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordie-gvf-admin @calumspretty @sunfl0wer-power @sad1lynn @gvfpal @gretavangroupie @starcatcher-jake @demolitionndann @hugorobinson @jaketlove

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 10/?

Prev | Next

Jason finds out shocking news about his family, and Bruce is an idiot who can't admit he just misses his son.

Jason smiled as he pushed Danny on the swing. Lian was laughing beside them. Jason turned toward Roy and grinned at the man as both children’s peals of laughter echoed around them. (Jason had built a swing set, so Danny had something to play with. Next would be a slide.) Raven was talking to Jazz and rocking Ellie. Raven had seemed to become attached to the kids quickly. It helped that they weren’t fully human like her.

Plus, it must be nice for Jazz to have another girl to speak to.

Jason was so glad that Raven had suggested she cloak Jason and his small family so that she and Roy could come to visit. The Bats were still looking for Jason. According to Roy, Batman and Nightwing were going crazy trying to find leads on Jason.

He didn’t know how to feel about that.

A part of Jason hoped that his old family missed him, but a bigger part of him knew that they were only looking for Jason to keep an eye on him in case Jason went insane again. Jason knew their worries were justified.

It wouldn’t happen, though, not with the family that Jason had built. He couldn’t risk losing Danny and, to the same extent, Jazz and Ellie. He had already gotten attached to the sweet baby girl, and Jazz was nice to talk to.

She almost reminded him of Barbara. Barbara, the only person from his past who talked to him occasionally, was the only one who checked on him and ensured he was fine. She sometimes talked to him during patrols, making those nights less lonely.

Jason was brought back to the present at Danny’s and Lian’s giggling.

“Uncle Jay, Uncle Jay, tell Danny I’m your favorite niece.”

“Nuh-uh, Ellie is his favorite niece.”

“Guys, guys, no fighting. Besides, I love my two nieces equally.”

Roy started fidgeting beside him while Lian looked at him, confused. Raven had a strange look on her face. Before he could ask what happened for them to start acting weird, Lian said, “What about Mar’i? Don’t you love her, too?”

Jason looked at Raven and then Roy.

“Who the hell is Mar’i?”

“Jay,” Roy asked cautiously, “Didn’t you know?”

“Know what?”

Roy sucked in his breath, “Mar’i is Kory’s and Dick’s daughter.”

____

Bruce couldn’t believe what Alfred was saying.

“So, you find out my son is alive, have proof, it takes you a few days to tell me, and then you say I shouldn’t look for him?”

“That’s exactly what I did and am saying, Master Bruce. The boy wants to be left alone; I think we should give him his space and let him come back to us when he feels like it.”

“What if the Pits take over, and he goes on a killing spree? What if he gets in trouble? Injured or, God forbid, what if he gets killed?” Again.

“What if—what if he never comes home?”

“Master Jason has suffered enough. If he felt the need to leave home, we should honor that. Besides, he came home once. He’ll do it again. We have to give him his space, Bruce.”

Bruce stared out the window from his office. A part of him wishes he could’ve reconnected with Jason sooner.

Would he have left if Bruce had extended an olive branch?

No, it was too late to think about ‘what ifs’ now. He had to find his son and bring him home. It’s the only way he can keep the world and Jason safe. Bruce had a better handle in Gotham than anywhere else in the world. He would bring Jason back and ensure his boy was again protected by his cape.

He had to. There was no other choice.

Special thanks to rpglady76 for suggesting that Raven cloak Jason and his family. I was wracking my brain trying to figure out how Roy and Raven would be able to visit Jason and had completely forgotten Raven knows magic. I also want to thank Breesperez139 for suggesting I put in Mar'i so I can have even more angst.

@idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange @itsberrydreemurstuff @gmkelz11 @feral-bunny31 @paroovian @thatonegaybitch68 @d4ydr34min9 @overtherose @fandomwandererer @vipower001 @thordottir45 @blackrabbitt3t @rosecinnamonbun @bianca-hooks123 @epilepticnerd @dat1angel @consouling @flamingenchiladadragon

[monstersinthecosmos]

Daddy Kink in Gallows Bird

[read on AO3]

CW: Incest, noncon, TVA stuff !

Okay so. I’m in the middle of writing another meta about Daddy Kink in VC/TVA/B&G so please forgive me if this post or the other winds up being redundant, but in the middle of all the deep thinking I’ve been doing about that topic in canon, I also had some interesting convo in the comments of this fic, so I wanted to park this somewhere as well. I’ll try not to be too repetitive and I’m going to try to keep the convo focused a little more on the fic than on canon (to the best of my ability since they overlap so much!) because I wanted to talk specifically about the train of thought that informed the fic, and just take it with a grain of salt because it does veer into headcanon territory at times when I’m filling in gaps from canon.

Anyway so I brought Daddy Kink/father themes up a few times in this fic, here’s some examples (this might be all of them actually, I forget lol):

During Amadeo’s dream about being raped, that the smell of wine subliminally reminds him of his father, even though he can’t quite put it together.

Matteo commenting that Marius is Amadeo’s father (during sex, and implying that Marius fucks him).

The man at the party towards the end who is thinking about his own son while he eats Amadeo out.

Marius telling the men in the final scene that he and Amadeo are named Ivan and Andrei.

BONUS POINT, less obvious: Marius musing about Rome, the fatherland, and Roman storytelling trying to paint forefathers in a better light.

I admit that on some level this is not that deep lol it was just being horny and indulging in daddy kink, but like I do want my fics to make sense when it comes to meta and I did want it to be plausible with canon.

So off the bat we have to say like, VC vampires exist above social constructs anyway. Marius isn’t someone who’s going to get grossed out by crossing a boundary like this, in the same vein as Louis and Claudia or Lestat and Gabrielle. As vampires they do not exist inside familial structures anymore. So I think this is extremely present in the Venice portions of the books, that there’s this blurry line around father/mentor/maker/lover.

I also think about this part of B&G every day of my life:

And I, with all my power, and all my blandishments, could not replace Amadeo’s father in Amadeo’s mind. Why was I so jealous? Why did this knowledge sting me so much?

BONUS LINE IN NEXT PARAGRAPH: I loved Amadeo as I had loved Pandora.

I WANT TO BE HIS DADDY BUT ALSO HIS DADDY. I WANT HIM TO BE MY CHILD AND ALSO MY WIFE.

There’s just so much going on here!

Anyway so in TVA I think like, not knowing Marius’s POV at that point, Marius is having lots of mood swings, he can be hot and cold, at times sends Amadeo mixed signals. But in B&G when we get the insight, we learn how often he struggled with whether or not to turn Amadeo as he began to love him. (I think also a lot about when he tells Armand at the end of TVA that he sees Armand loves B+S more respectfully than Marius ever loved Armand!!)

And I want to like, balance this against Marius’s inherent selfishness with how he treated Amadeo, how he treated him like a pet or like a project. I don't think (in canon) he saw Amadeo as a full person, and it's why he interrupts Amadeo so much in the fic. Amadeo at this point in canon exists for Marius's own needs.

(Sidenote, when I was working on this fic and kept struggling with like, the POV of a Marius who doesn’t actually see Amadeo as a complete person, I kept using how I feel about my cats as a reference lol. Like I love them to death, I would die for them, but they don’t have a single fucking thought in their brains, they are little babies that I take care of bc they’re cute and I like having them around.)

I talk a lot about how I love Marius because he’s a flawed person; I find his flaws and missteps to be so human and relatable, like I too do my best to be reasonable and kind and patient and yet I do have a petty side. I can hold grudges. I think all of us are capable of acting selfishly.

Because like, his love of Amadeo is conditional, it’s like having a pet. In the book he keeps changing his mind if he should turn Amadeo or let him free to have a real life and we don’t know what his ultimate decision would have been because Harlech forces his hand. The question is: Would he have ever let Amadeo go?

He specifically chooses Amadeo because it’s someone he sees as a blank slate, A FUNERAL SPIRIT, someone on borrowed time. Marius considers Amadeo’s life over already, so this is all bonus for him. There’s never a question of rescuing him out of goodness and returning him to his home. Marius specifically chooses him to groom as a fledgling because he’s lonely, and he doesn't see Amadeo as a human with a potential life anyway.

So in the fic I tried to make this clear, all the times Marius wonders if he can keep Amadeo, even begging Akasha for a clue, and by the end he realizes he has to keep Amadeo because this experience has ruined him. He’s never going to be able to live a normal life now, and Marius knows it*. AS FAR AS THE FIC UNIVERSE GOES, we could ask the same, like, will Marius still turn him in this fic timeline if Harlech doesn’t show up, but I think he would.

*also as an aside, I wrote this fic to be like backwards engineered Devil's Minion, so I bring this theme up a lot in my Armand/Daniel fics, and the entire thesis of The Lotus Eater is that Armand was careless with Daniel and broke him, which is what Marius does to Amadeo.

Anywhoo, back to the daddy stuff.

Like sure yeah it’s just there to be horny because I think Daddy Kink is absolutely present in canon, but Marius is enjoying this game they’re playing, too, even if he’s a little too proper to admit it. He likes taking Amadeo out and getting to protect him. He likes indulging in the kill when Amadeo is fucking wrecked, like it’s a sex act they can share. He likes that their victims think he’s Amadeo’s father. It makes him feel powerful.

And towards the end, when they’re talking about stoicism and whether or not you can simply turn your emotions off, it also leads into whether or not Amadeo can make the choice to remember where he comes from.

Canon doesn’t explicitly say this so this is where fic headcanon comes in, but I wanted to make it that Marius can see into Amadeo’s dreams, and I implied that he knows perfectly well exactly where Amadeo is from. He knows about the monastery, he knows about Andrei’s home life and his parents, he knows their names! So every day that passes in Venice where Marius doesn’t offer this information, or bring him home, is another day he’s chosen to keep Amadeo, and is ultimately selfish.

On the other hand, especially once the fic starts and Amadeo’s memories start coming back to him, Amadeo knows that Marius knows, and he never asks.

This is of course like, dubcon territory of like, SHOULD AMADEO HAVE TO ASK? Is Amadeo’s fragile mental state a clue that he cannot consent or make informed decisions? Is Marius behaving badly by allowing this wounded child to make his own decisions, or as the adult/immortal, even as the mentor/father/lover, should he guide Amadeo to do what’s right? And what exactly is the right decision?

But from the moment Amadeo realizes that Marius knows more about him than he reveals, Amadeo never asks, which means he’s making a decision to stay in Venice. And like, the morally correct thing is not really relevant here when Marius’s moral compass is so far removed from human sensibility, but it also affirms his desire to be wanted. He’s happy that Amadeo wants to stay and wants to be his pupil and his baby boy, so he’s not going to challenge it.

And that’s why he drops the names Ivan and Andrei in the final sex scene, as a climax to all of this. It’s serves both as one final way to challenge Amadeo, to ask if he TRULY doesn’t remember, but also serves to take on the ROLE of Ivan. He wants to be Amadeo’s Daddy. And even though the men in the room are teasing him about how he’s not actually going to sell Amadeo, how Amadeo must be his favorite, how he must be a freak, etc, he still owns Amadeo in this sense, and it allows him another level of release along with Amadeo’s sexual release.

WELL. I hope that makes sense!!! It made sense to me at the time when I was writing it. I love these two dweebs, please talk to me about them any time!

[unohanadaydreams]

Okay finally posting the last of Pernida fight. Truly don't understand how I forgot these in the drafts.

Surely part of this is working smarter and not harder in terms of not wanting to start from absolute scratch on a new Nemuri, but the look on his face makes me think there is absolutely sentiment behind this as well. He looks desperate.

He is putting himself in immense danger by doing this. He's risking following Nemu in death by getting this close. And he does it anyway.

I love my fucking stupid, idiot, moron repressed asshole. He is SO stupid. It is TOO LATE. ITS TOO LATE!!!!

But he's taking back her cerebrum anyway.

What I get out of this is that Nemu essentially had an extra thyroid working overtime to keep her above board? And although this going unchecked once the cerebrum is removed would overwork the heart for sure, it’s more likely to shrivel and restrict the body but I get an explosion is cooler.

The conclusion of this fight is rushed considering the lengthy build up. And instead of going into anything about the Soul King or Pernida, we are left with nothing. Which is so disheartening.

Idk it’s just unfulfilling. It felt like something was building re: Mayuri viewing Pernida like a new kind of being to study to exhaustion but realizing too late that he’s just a Quincy. And he’s already studied them to exhaustion. But still fucked up and got Nemu killed and almost died himself because he refused to RECOGNIZE that. And he refused to recognize this battle for what it is: just trying to get out alive versus a being that has mastered evolution in a way that Mayuri has not scraped. He wasn't being cautious or prepared or observant--he was being reckless & DUMB. (Pernida was out there absorbing Mayuri's brain cells lmao)

Pernida doesn’t seem so stupid that he wouldn’t have realized that Mayuri encouraging him to eat Nemu meant something. He had already evolved pretty far. That said, I do appreciate Nemu's involvement.

I think maybe they just realized this fight was taking a lot of panels more than what they’d anticipated lmao.

I was just really hoping this battle was going to open up some kind of pathway to more on the Soul King or Pernida's backstory of any kind. But no!

Not complaining too much since this was bountiful Mayuri character moments. But also plot my beloved, I miss you.

My guess is that they got the extra thyroid treatment and since they are actual souls and not fake souls, it’s both keeping their cells refreshes enough to ensure they’re not dead but also refreshing too fast for a real soul to live normally? It's matching more what would happen to a body (shriveling and restricting), I guess.

And for Toshiro, who is ALREADY being crushed by immense power from his zanpakuto, I can imagine this would be really affecting.

Otherwise idk how he made them alive again lmao. I’m purely spit balling.

Has he though? We don’t get a lot of time with Ururu and Jinta but they seem more like individuals than Nemu ever did. Although, I guess we don’t know if they were made from scratch like Nemu, only that they were made similarly.

And Pernida was also not made from scratch.

So on this point, maybe he's right?

But it still feels like a major fucking cope lmao.

Over all, this battle is such a tragedy for Mayuri's emotional development. He distances himself from the next Nemuri and you can tell he took this as a lesson to not care or love.

Instead of learning the word moderation, he just swings the other way and treats Nemuri like she's subject number 8. Like Kubo is really batting 1000 with these tragic lessons. Kenpachi & Mayuri will be worse but better for Soul Society for it. And that's really all that matters.

Also Mayuri with bangs in his eyes and sweat dripping down his face and a half-hearted smile on his face LSKDJFPO:WIEJFP:OIAJSD:PLFKJ:SALDKEJFEKLJ

[catboy-jaebeom]

week one of #got7revival: bias & wrecker

bias: Jaebeom & Youngjae

jaebeom was the first member of GOT7 I found while looking for faceclaims for my fantasy novel about one and a half years ago ( march 2021 ) ; he got me and a friend into kpop and the rest is history. I love this weird cat guy ( affectionate ) with his twin moles and the utter passion and leadership he always brings to the table. I also adore that he talks about his depression and anxiety so relatively openly. he wouldn't need to, and yet he does, and I respect that a lot. it makes even me feel better about myself, and I thought I had a really good grip on mine.

once I knew the members and had gotten familiar with their character and all, I started gravitating towards youngjae as well. I sometimes wonder whether he wouldn't have been my ( actual / only ) bias in GOT7 if a) jaebeom wasn't so very special to me that it feels wrong to switch biases, and b) I had already known the members when I had gotten into GOT7, or if GOT7 hadn't been my very first group and I had already been much more familiar with how groups worked and all that. he's 97 percent shy, innocent maknae, and 3 percent a wicked minx who nobody can be mad at and I love that for him.

the bottom line is that I bias them both and they seem to be okay with having shared custody, if you wanna call it that. I'm calling it that now.

btw, I always consider those people the bias that I have a soft spot for, who I relate to on a personality level, who make me feel all warm and cozy when I watch them do their thing — and the wrecker is the one that just wrecks me with their visuals or voice or whatever it is. I can't look at them for long because that's overwhelming because they're so v attractive ( not saying my biases aren't, but the wreckers just take a bat and swing it at me, while the biases just don't cause that reaction in my brain ) idk, I hope this makes sense, but I've heard people describe biases as the ones that are in "first place" and the wreckers are trying to dethrone them and that's just not my definition of it. kakdif no hate tho! just wanted to explain that.

wrecker: Mark & Yugyeom

mark, oh mark. I couldn't tell you what exactly it was that reeled me in, but it might have been his stupidly attractive smirks and his cute little fangs and his deeper voice — there is just something about mark that wrecks me so bad. his iconic lines in Turn Up or The New Era take me out every time, my gods. I'm also so happy he actually released this solo album despite nearly all of the songs being some flavour of sad. I feel honoured to be part of this journey of his, and I'm personally a really big fan of more darker songs so this is perfect. what would I give to see him live wow.

yugyeom. aodofoaldlf. he was one of my initial biases and then faded from my bias list very naturally when he wasn't the only other guy anymore that I recognized. I always admired his dance skills and courage, and I vibe with how he keeps everyone going when it's 3 am and they've been filming for 14 hours already. but he wasn't a bias anymore. and then I saw him live this may ( 2022 ) and he has been haunting and wrecking me ever since. how can one man be so cute and so passionate at the same time I do not understand.

[jeiceys-dead-poets-hcs]

Songs by my Favourite Band That I Would Assign The Dead Poets.

so if you couldn’t tell by the cover photo, my favourite band is Twenty One Pilots. They’ve been my favourite band ever since around 2014, and I plan on getting a tattoo related to them soon!

knowing most songs quite well, i decided i’d relate songs to our lovely poets!

please enjoy! i’ll link the full songs as well!

also- might have to make a part 2. the possibilities are running through my brain!

Neil Perry:

Anathema.

Neal is a person who keeps all of his struggles internalized. We never witness him talk about any of his struggles until his breaking point when he is no longer allowed to pursue acting.

Which is why I find the first few sets of lyrics very fitting, because in reality, it seems only Todd had a slight idea of what was happening. Even then, that could be pushing it.

I feel this song encapsulates Neal’s worries and how they all eventually add up, and suddenly disappear.

No I’m not crying stfu.

key lyrics!:

And you will never know (won't you go to someone else's dreams)

What I'm thinking of

So won't you say goodnight (won't you go to someone else's head)

So I can say goodbye

And you will never understand (haven't you taken enough from me)

What I believe

So won't you say goodnight (won't you torture someone else's sleep?)

So I can say goodbye

I start to part two halves of my heart in the dark and I

Don't know where I should go

And the tears and the fears begin to multiply

Taking time in a simple place

In my bed where my head rests on a pillowcase

And it's said that a war's lead but I forget

That I let another day go by

I want to be afraid but it seems that these days

I'm caught under water and I'm falling farther

My heart's getting harder, I'm calling my father

Am I screaming to an empty sky?

Empty sky, no way, that's me

'Cause one half of my heart is free

Empty sky, no way, that's me

'Cause the other half of my heart's asleep

Todd Anderson:

Forest.

This song is one of their more heavier pieces in terms of poetry. All of the lyrics are symbolic, intuitive.

It talks about how our brains travel to the darker side of thoughts the more you think about it, and the longer you look at things.

I just think this song really captures some dreadful thoughts in Todd’s brain, but in his more classic, poetic styles.

This song is one of my favourites :)

key lyrics!:

My brain has given up

White flags are hoisted

I took some food for thought

It might be poisoned

The stomach in my brain

Throws up on to the page

Does it bother anyone else

That someone else has your name?

I don't understand why everything I adore

Takes a different form when I squint my eyes

Have you ever done that?

When you squint your eyes?

And your eyelashes make it look a little not right?

And then when just enough light

Comes from just the right side

And you find you're not who you're suppose to be?

This is not what you're suppose to see

Please, remember me? I am suppose to be

King of a kingdom or swinging on a swing

Something happened to my imagination

This situation's becoming dire

My treehouse is on fire

And for some reason I smell gas on my hands

This is not what I had planned

This is not what I had planned

Charlie Dalton:

My Blood.

This song to me represents absolute loyalty to your friends and family. We’ve had no shortage of Charlie always looking out for the Dead Poets and avenging Neal after his death.

I always think about my closest friends when listening to this song, so I felt it was only right. I think it’ll make more sense in the key lyrics.

They have my whole heart your honour.

key lyrics!:

When everyone

You thought you knew

Deserts your fight

I'll go with you

You're facing down

A dark hall

I'll grab my light

And go with you

When choices end

You must defend

I'll grab my bat

And go with you

Stay with me

No, you don't need to run

Stay with me, my blood

You don't need to run

If there comes a day

People posted up at the end of your driveway

They're calling for your head and they're calling for your name

I'll bomb down on them, I'm coming through

Do they know I was grown with you?

If they're here to smoke, know I'll go with you

Just keep it outside, keep it outside, yeah

If you find yourself

In a lion's den

I'll jump right in

And pull my pin

And go with you

Steven Meeks:

Guns for Hands.

I feel like he also holds deep concern for all of his friends. Maybe not as outright and stubborn as Charlie, but he has a good head on his shoulders when it comes to his friends.

He seems like the type of friend to divert and distract rather than take the problem on full-throttle. He may be able to listen, but he gets scared when giving advice. His worry still haunts his mind, though.

It also just has his boppin kinda energy that I think he just radiates. Sunny man.

IM TRYIN IM TRYIN TO SLEEEP

sorry

key lyrics!:

I know what you think in the morning

When the sun shines on the ground

And shows what you have done

It shows where your mind has gone

And you swear to your parents

That it will never happen again

I know, I know what that means

I know

That you all have guns

And you never put the safety on

And you all have plans

To take it, to take it

Don't take it, take it, take it

I'm trying, I'm trying to sleep

I'm trying, I'm trying to sleep

But I can't, but I can't, when you all have

Guns for hands, yeah

Let's take this a second at a time

Let's take this one song, this one rhyme

Together, let's breathe

Together, to the beat

But there's hope out the window

So that's where we'll go

Let's go outside and all join hands

But until then you'll never understand

Gerard Pitts:

House of Gold.

This is just a really sweet song for a really sweet man <33

He’d introduce it to the poets and they sing it during meetings sometimes. It never fails to bring a smile to his face.

I also feel he loves it because he’s very loyal to his family. His mother, to be specific. A momma’s boy in secret, but also not really in secret.

key lyrics!:

She asked me, son, when I grow old

Will you buy me a house of gold

And when your father turns to stone

Will you take care of me

I will make you

Queen of everything you see

I'll put you on the map

I'll cure you of disease

Let's say we up and left this town

And turned our future upside-down

We'll make pretend that you and me

Lived ever after, happily

And since we know that dreams are dead

And life turns plans up on their head

I will plan to be a bum

So I just might become someone

Richard Cameron:

March to the Sea.

This song reminds me a lot of conformity. How we’re all just mindlessly walking to an endpoint, sometimes with no inspiration or desire to be free or do something different.

We know he is all about conformity.

I like to think Cameron is conflicted with following rules, but he falls under the pressure of his authority figures to actually be free.

key lyrics!:

There's miles of land in front of us

And we're dying with every step we take

We're dying with every breath we make

And I'll fall in line

A stranger's back is all I see

He's only a few feet in front of me

And I'll look left and right sometimes

But I'll fall in line

And as we near the end of land

And our ocean graves are just beyond the sand

I ask myself the question

Why I fall in line

Then out of the corner of my eye

I see a spaceship in the sky

And hear a voice inside my head

Follow me instead

Then the wages of war will start

Inside my head with my counterpart

And the emotionless marchers will chant the phrase

"This line's the only way"

And then I start down the sand

My eyes are focused on the end of land

But again, the voice inside my head says

Follow me instead

Take me up, seal the door

I don't want to march here anymore

I realize that this line is dead

So I'll follow you instead

So then you put me back in my place

So I might start another day

And once again, I will be in a march to the sea

Knox Overstreet:

Tear in my Heart.

Could really only think of this one because it seems like his only personality trait is being creepily in love

Sorry not sorry

The lyrics just show the hopeless devotion and vulnerability to somebody you love. Tyler Joseph had wrote this for his wife, Jenna :)

key lyrics!:

Sometimes you gotta bleed to know

That you're alive and have a soul

But it takes someone to come around

To show you how

She's the tear in my heart

I'm alive

She's the tear in my heart

I'm on fire

She's the tear in my heart

Take me higher

Than I've ever been

My heart is my armour

She's the tear in my heart

She's a carver

She's a butcher with a smile

Cut me farther

Than I've ever been

[chiruba]

JJK BOYS' REACTING TO S/O IN A BUNNY OUTFIT !

req. hiii bestie !! i can smell potential in this account, so i'm here for a request ! jjk boys' reaction to their s/o wearing a bunny girl/boy outfit (they lost a bet) ?? maybe with... megumi, inumaki and gojo ?? thank you and i give you all my love and support for your work!!!❤️❤️️

an. HII BESTIE!! i loved this req omg and thank u for supporting me!! hope i did this req justice <3

ft. gojo, fushiguro, inumaki x fem!reader

wc. 1.5k

genre. fluff

tw. a lil suggestive but like 99% sfw

► MASTERLIST ► TAGLIST ►

GOJO SATORU ►

— this mf would be so cocky and teasing about it

— definitely the type to whistle and wiggle his eyebrows

— he's probably the one that made the bet with you

— and of course he made it knowing he'd win

"satoru!" you whine from behind the closed bathroom door, thoroughly embarrassed. "are you kidding? i'm not wearing this!" well, to be fair, you were already wearing it, but coming out of your sacred space the bathroom in it? absolutely not.

"come on!" you heard him say, his tone clearly teasing and excited. "you lost the bet, after all!"

"and you cheated to win!"

"baby-"

"no."

gojo let out a dramatic sigh, and you could practically imagine him pressing an exaggerated hand to his heart. "fine!" he said, letting out another sigh, "i guess our bets mean nothing to you."

"it's a stupid bet, satoru-"

"i understand, don't worry." you groaned, rolling your eyes at your boyfriend's usual childish antics. you could hear him shuffling from the other side of the door, "i'll just go to bed." you let a sigh, glancing to the large mirror to your right, your reflection staring back at you. you felt your face get hot at the thought of showing this to gojo. i mean, you could use it to try and get back at your boyfriend for all the times he'd teased you, and maybe even fluster him a bit? impossible, but a girl can dream.

"...fine." you grumble so quietly you're unsure if he even heard it - until you hear the giddy squeal come out of your boyfriend's mouth from the other side of the door, catching you so off guard that you can't help but let out a snort. before you even have a chance to do so yourself, gojo swings open the door and catches you as you stumble out.

he grins at you cheekily, one eyebrow raised and a low whistle sounding from his lips. "you were already wearing it?" he asks, and before you can respond a bright light flashes in your eye, and you realise he's taking pictures.

"satoru!" you go to cover your head, immediately regretting your decision. "i'm changing back right now!" you exclaim and try to rush back into the bathroom, only to be stopped by him pulling you back gently, his chest colliding with your body.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI ►

— BLUSHY BABY!

— he'd be so embarrassed even looking at you LOL

— doesn't mean he won't look though

— would probably be like "what are you doing?" all grumbly and annoyed

— but his eyes stay trained on you and the outfit

you didn't think last week that your saturday night would be spent waiting on your boyfriend's bed, dressed head to toe in a bunny girl outfit while you waited for him to get done showering. it originally began when nobara showed you a funny tiktok of someone else pranking their significant other while they were dressed in a bunny outfit, and you'd both joked about doing it to your respective significant others. you had teased nobara, doubting that maki would be flustered even by such an outfit, which then led her to tease you about how fushiguro wouldn't even bat an eye at it. and, well, here you are.

you want to blame nobara for this entire fiasco, but you can't help the scratch of curiosity you yourself have about your antisocial boyfriend's reaction. if you're being entirely honest, the thought of making him flustered makes you a bit giddy. you decide to wrap yourself in his bed covers, seeing that fushiguro's designated showering time is ending soon, and then duck your head under the covers like a child hiding from a monster. the door lock clicks, and you hear the familiar sound of the sliding door.

"what are you doing?" fushiguro asks, closing the door behind him as he makes his way over to the mound on his bed. you giggle and hug the covers closer.

"take a guess," you tease, and you were sure if you could see him he'd be rolling his eyes.

"i don't know," he responded bluntly, "are you cold? i'll warm you up." you could hear the slight grumble in his voice at the last part, clearly still getting used to voicing his affections. it made your heart flutter a little, and you decided to stop teasing, mostly because it was the first time today you'd be able to see your boyfriend's face. you quickly pulled the covers back, sitting up on his bed as you stared up at fushiguro with an innocent grin.

"wha?!-" fushiguro spluttered, pink immediately beginning to stain his cheeks. his mouth hang open as he stared at you, eyes rapidly glancing around your outfit. "what are you doing?" he asked, gulping obviously after his sentence.

"what do ya think?" you teasingly asked, deciding to stand up and give a quick spin around, only flustering fushiguro further. "maybe this should be my halloween outfit? oh, we could even match! you could be a magician-" fushiguro let out a noise similar to a growl, and the next thing you knew, you were back in his bed, covers one again wrapped around your body like a cloak.

"no." he said plainly, and you had to hold back your laughter.

"no? no what, love?" he scrunched up his face at the nickname, but you could tell he liked it just by the simple fact that he'd never told you to stop. your teasing smile dropped when he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting on your ear as he whispered,

"i wanna be the only one to see you that way."

INUMAKI TOGE ►

— he got so flustered at first omg

— and said the one word that came to his mind - "wow."

— inumaki has such great control when it comes to his speech, he already knew it would be a safe word

— what he doesn't have great self-control over is, honestly, his love for you

— inumaki's just so amazed at how you're his s/o

— after he gets over his initial flustered reaction, he tackles you in affection <3

you were sure that you've never been more embarrassed in your life than now. nobara had suggested the grand idea of playing 'truth or dare' for girls' night, and sadly, your turn had ended up in maki's hands. you thought that maki couldn't come up with anything too bad, especially not this late at night, and so you went with the dare.

...and now here you are, dressed in a bunny girl outfit, standing in the middle of your boyfriend, inumaki toge's, room. the outfit was bought last halloween as a complete joke between the three of you, and you had completely forgotten about it afterwards, keeping it in the deepest part of your closet. how had maki even come up with that on the spot? damn her brains. your phone pinged, vibrating on inumaki's desk where you had put it, and you glanced over to see nobara's text;

'he's coming!!'

the simple message made your heart pound, your head frantically snapping back to look at the door as you waited for your boyfriend to come through. you held your breath when you heard a key being inserted into the door, and a small noise of surprise when inumaki realised the door wasn't locked. he quickly understood that you were most likely in his room.

"kombu-" inumaki froze, quite literally froze. it reminded you of the times he'd unzipped his collar and whispered the words "don't move,", his enemies bodies going rigid just as his just did.

you began to speak, and then realised, what the fuck were you meant to say in this situation? you'd been so focused on when inumaki would come through the door, you hadn't even thought about what to say when he did. you quite literally felt the way your heart fluttered when you heard inumaki let out a quiet breath, and you heard him whisper,

"wow."

it was already rare to hear your boyfriend's soft voice, even when he was simply speaking in onigiri ingredients, and you were shocked that you had caused this much of a reaction from him.

inumaki finally took back control of his body as he dropped the plastic white bag full of late-night snacks he was out getting, quickly shutting the door behind him and rushing over to you. his arms snaked around your waist, and you stumbled when he pulled you from the middle of his room to his bed.

"toge!" you yelled, arms wrapping around him automatically. you giggled when he began bombarding you in kisses, kissing you on the tip of your nose, the corners of your mouth and continually along your jaw, each a sweet peck full of affection that was more than enough to convey inumaki's feelings. "toge," you whined, now lowering your voice, "maki and nobara are probably right outside the door!" inumaki continues to hold you close while he reaches into his shorts pockets, pulling out his phone and typing a quick message, still giving you sweet pecks as you read his text.

'too bad. ur mine now <3'

ill give u a kiss goodnight if u reblog <3 

©  2021 sinrinyoku — please do not repost, translate, modify or plagiarize my work! i will beat the shit out of u (maybe)

[avintagekiss24]

—you can pretend you don’t miss me; bucky barnes

pairing: tfatws!bucky barnes x black!reader

word count: 4049

warnings: 18+ ONLY, knife kink, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, tiny bit of blood, attempted murder

challenge: @cockslut-padalecki a decade under the influence “what if I can’t forget you? I’ll burn your name into my throat”

request: bucky barnes + “i have a feeling i’m gonna get lucky tonight” + orgasm denial

author note: surprise! it didn’t take me two months to write something sjsksjs please enjoy fic #3 of my 5/5.5k follower celebration! also another quick congrats to lisa for hitting 10k!!

inspired by this art ; gif by @zacharylevis ; line divider by @firefly-graphics ; title inspired by billie eilish bitches broken hearts

The taste of bourbon and cigarettes is on his lips and tongue as he licks into your mouth. He moans into you, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh as he hooks your leg right around his waist. Your back is up against the heavy door of his apartment, fingers in soft brown hair, wet lips smacking and sucking, teeth nibbling on his swollen, red bottom lip. He laughs, relaxing into your kiss and lips and teeth as he anchors your weight in his metal hand, flesh hand rummaging in his almost too tight black jeans for his door key.

There’s a smirk on your face as you pull away from him. Your lips are still touching. Foreheads resting on one another's. Eyes a little shy, only connecting for fractions of seconds before they’re on the floor or a pair of lips. The jingle of keys fills the hallway, then the thunk of one as it pushes into the slot and stops hard against the rusted metal of the lock. The deadbolt slaps back into the door and with a push of his foot, and a little help from your weight being pinned against it, the swollen door scrapes against the frame as it pops open, swinging back into the wall.

Bucky slips his hands down your sides, grips your hips tight as he starts to back you inside. They stay there, those hands, as his eyes bounce back and forth between yours and dip down to your mouth where he licks his lips and catches his bottom lip between his teeth, like he’s fantasizing about wanting to feel them again. A metal hand cups your face, his palm warm as he sweeps his thumb along your cheek.

His tongue sneaks out just before your lips meet again to tease the roof of your mouth before he grabs your top lip between his. You both inhale deep, breathing each other in, a concoction of soft and sweet and smoke and warmth.

You’re not sure who moves first, whether Bucky is pushing or you’re pulling— probably a little of both— but you’re inside of his apartment before you know it. The door slams shut. Your leather jacket slips off your shoulders and hits the hardwood floor as you back further inside.

Fingers and hands are everywhere. Yanking at shirts, popping buttons, pulling zippers as lips get more desperate. You back into a set of bar stools, knocking them around just a little as you stumble and catch yourself, throwing your head back as laughter spills from you. Bucky pushes out a breath and a small laugh while he eyes you all hungry like as he pulls at his boots.

You tease him a little, putting those feminine wiles to good use— tilt your head, twist your hair around your fingers, push your tits forward. With your shirt crumpled on the floor, the titanium bars pushed through your nipples catch the soft pink, blue, and purple lights of the neon signs pouring in through the kitchen windows through the sheer mesh bralette covering your chest.

Bucky looks a mess. Hair all over his head, pants open— the band of his Hugo Boss boxers peeking out— plain black t-shirt now in a rumpled pile on the floor. His footsteps heavy as he stalks towards you. He stops short, wraps black and gold fingers around your wrist and yanks, collecting you again to crush your soft body against his hard one.

You tilt your head up towards him, eyes turning to slits, lips brushing against his as manicured fingertips push just inside his jeans. Soft tips sweep over a rigid cock, the size making a sly smile curl onto your face. This one is full of surprises.

“Well well,” you purr, kissing him quick, wet and loud, never taking your eyes off him, “I have a feeling I’m gonna get lucky tonight.”

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, a breath pushing out through his nose as a lopsided grin paints his handsome face, “Aren’t you a smart girl.”

You curl your fingers around his neck, digging the tips into his messy hair and draw him in— dragging the wet velvet of your tongue over his mouth real slow, watching as his eyes close, “You, bed,” you instruct, “Me, bathroom.”

Footsteps fill the quiet, surprisingly lived-in apartment, the clicks of your heels and his heavy thumps as he pulls you towards the bed. He just points off to his left as he falls onto the mattress, resting a leaden head on a wide palm as he settles in. Eyes blinking at you slow as you disappear behind a white door.

The bathroom is immaculate. White. Sterile. Nothing out of place— very military of him. You undress slowly, removing your shoes one by one before moving on to your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a see through bra, waist high panties— and a black leather ankle holster housing your six inch, hand crafted, butterfly knife.

You lift your foot, place it on the white countertop and slip the blade from the holster before carefully, quietly undoing the straps. Taking a deep breath, you stand up a little straighter, roll your neck and shoulders as you stare back at your reflection. The pony tail comes down, silky hair falling over your shoulders and down your back— best fifteen hundred bucks you’ve ever spent on yourself.

Gotta look good on the day you finally get to kill the Winter Soldier.

With a soft flick of your wrist, the blade flips out and you can’t help but run a manicured finger over the edge, pressing the sharp point into the pad. You find yourself in the mirror again and tilt your head a little as your brain goes a little empty— except for maybe one thought.

You wanna fuck him. You’ve earned it, and regrettably so, you find Bucky Barnes sort of interesting. Funny. Engaging when prodded a bit but still somehow deadpan and aloof.

His huge cock doesn’t help matters either.

You sigh, oh well.

The door clicks as you open it and pass through. You keep your hands behind your back as your body softens— sinks into itself a little. Hair falls in your face as you feign shyness, batting big, soft brown eyes and sinking your teeth into an ample bottom lip.

Bucky took the time to get completely naked. Hard cock gripped in his flesh palm, slow drags from the base to the glistening tip.

God, you really kinda wish you could fuck this man.

“Come ‘ere.”

An outstretched metal hand accompanies the gentle beckoning. You move soft, a small sound of your feet sinking into the carpet before you reach out with your empty hand and slide it into warm metal, using the sturdy grip to hoist yourself up and over his stomach.

His hands find your hips— big, warm, manly hands. They slip upwards just a bit to grip the soft of your sides. Move down again for thick fingers to graze over your ass and tickle the backs of your naked thighs. Still, you palm the handle of your knife tight and high, in the small of your back, as you use your free hand to push the dark strands of hair out of your face.

Bucky’s eyes meet yours when his fingers push between your parted legs, finding a wet spot in those mesh panties. You inhale deep, blinking back at him as his fingers keep a sweet little rhythm back and forth against your cunt. Hips defy your brain and push forward into those fingers— wanting just a little more.

Maybe you can wait… maybe until after...

You lean forward before your brain can finish stringing the words together— you have to or you’d lose all your nerve and give into that weak devil telling you to taste the sin. Let him spread you open until it hurts. Your mouth finds his hot and swollen and you kiss him hard, so hard he groans into it. You pull back just enough to lick his mouth again, eyes bouncing between his.

“What’re you waitin’ for, sweetheart? You need more of an invitation than this?” Bucky asks low and slow, pushing his cock right into your ass as his fingers creep inside your panties.

You smile, real nice and sweet before swooping the arm from behind your back to push the knife into his neck, “Oh nothing, baby,” you purr, “Just waiting for the right time to kill you is all.”

You lean back a little to see his face, tipping your head to the side. He’s pretty calm for a guy who’s minutes away from bleeding out on his own bed— but he is an assassin. Not much can shake him— should shake him.

Bucky blinks slow at you, hands coming to rest by his sides. His eyes don’t widen, pupils don’t dilate. Steady breathing stays just the same— he doesn’t even shift uncomfortably. Just blinks back at you. Slow. Easy. Without a fucking care in the goddamn world.

An angry heat blooms across your skin at his nonchalance as the seconds tick by. Your chest starts to rise and fall a little harder. Your eyes start to bounce between his as you suck your teeth in indignation, “You don’t remember me, do you?”

A blink is all you get.

“Of course you don’t,” you hiss, “Why would you? I was just one of many in the wrong place at the wrong time, right?” Your grip on the handle of the knife tightens as you push it harder against his skin— this time he swallows, “Who cares how many innocent lives you’ve destroyed as long as you got what you wanted.”

He still doesn’t say a word, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react. Just stares up at you as you crack, laughing angrily as you take his silence mockingly, “Well, I couldn’t fuckin’ forget you. Eight years. Eight years of living in absolute terror that you’d come back for me.” You’re seething now, eyes wild, breath coming harder and faster than the one before it, “Constantly looking over my shoulder, jumping at every bark of a dog and clink of keys and slam of a car door outside my apartment— do you know how it feels to live like that? Huh? Expecting to die every second of every hour of every goddamn day?”

Another silence drops over the room and it’s just the two of you staring at each other. You’re not even sure why he isn’t fighting back— why he’s just lying there and then it hits you, like a ton of bricks.

Of course he knows what it’s like to live like this. He’s used to it.

A trickle of blood slips down the side of his neck, the singular plop staining the white sheets below, “I’ve never thought about after— once you’re dead. What if I can’t forget you? I’ve spent so long hating you— it’s, it’s like by killing you, I’ll burn your name into my throat, you know? You’ll always just,” you tilt your head, digging the knife in a little harder, “Be there. With me always.”

The funniest thing happens as soon as the words slip through your teeth. His lips start to twitch. Curl into a smile— one where those pearly whites are on display— and then he’s laughing. Like someone just told a fucking joke.

It makes you recoil. Makes you squint and has your face twist in confusion, lips separating as a heavy breath passes through.

“Well,” he finally purrs, the laughter rumbling through his chest dying down, “Go ‘head, honey.”

When you hesitate, he pushes his chin forward, arch’s his head back to put his neck on full display, “Come on, baby. Don’t get my hopes up and not follow through.”

“You’re insane.” You hiss.

He leans up a little, another smile curling onto his lips, “In this business, you gotta be.”

The words stick in air like glue as he settles back into the pillow below his head, blue eyes twinkling underneath the soft neon lights pouring in through the windows.

He’s fucking with you. Just do it. The words echo, knocking around your brain as you stare down at him, blade still shoved into the crease of his neck. Another drop of blood plops onto the sheets below. Your lip snarls slightly, eyes narrowing as heat flashes across your skin again. He’s mocking you. After everything he’s done, all the pain— the fear.

You inhale deep, grip the handle so hard your nails dig into your palm and instinct takes over. The hatred, the built up aggression and vitriol guiding your hand, about to slash that pretty thick neck wide open. You are more than ready to see a deep red stain white sheets and blue eyes lose all of the life he’s built into them and fade away into nothingness. Just when you’re about to make your eight year long dream come true, it all flashes before your eyes.

Within a blink— half of a blink— you're off his lap, slammed up against the wall opposite the bed, warm flesh hand around your throat. You gasp hard, nearly choking on the air you can’t grab as you start to struggle, slapping at his face before swinging the knife wildly.

Bucky catches your arm with ease, squeezing your hand until you’re grunting and hissing in pain, grip relaxing around the metal. You blink again, and your knife is now pressed against your throat as you growl, struggling to no avail.

“You’re lucky baby,” he mutters, “Nobody survives that long while holding a knife to my throat.” He kisses you hard, digging his teeth into your bottom lip to drag it back with him when he pulls away, “You’re a cutie tho, so, you get a little reprieve.”

He leans back in real close, eyes roaming along your face as his head tilts, breathing easy. Staring back at him, lip curling again as you huff hard, angry breaths beating out of your nose. But your hands have come to rest on his arms. You can feel the blood coursing through the vein that’s popped out right down the center of his bicep. Your fingers flex around metal and muscle, goosebumps rising on your skin as the cool air conditioning tickles hot skin.

“Of course I remember you,” he whispers after a long time— too long, “I remember each and every face of the last seventy years,” his eyes bounce between yours, “I knew exactly who you were as soon as you popped up on that stupid dating app.”

Another sharp influx of air squeezes out of your throat when he drags the tip of your knife underneath your chin, down the length of your throat, down your chest. Slips it along your stomach before pushing it into the mesh that covers your chest. A flick of his wrist and you’re bare, the thin material giving way to the blade.

Your chest heaves, eyes wide, lips parting as the tip of that blade scrapes along your skin— right between your tits. Brown eyes drop to his red, wet lips quick, then shoot back to focus on his piercing blues.

“I wasn’t sure at first what you wanted,” he whispers, flattening the blade over a piqued nipple, clinking against the metal bar piercing your thick flesh, “If you recognized me after all this time— I mean, with the new hair and everything.”

A hum sounds at the back of your throat, trembling and airy and Bucky picks it up right away— another smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The fingers around your throat peel away slowly but he watches you all the while, fire behind his eyes as he tests you.

“You’re a good little actress,” words still soft but full— maybe amazed that you were able to get as close as you did, “But you knew that already, huh?”

You swallow hard, eyes tipping down to watch his fingers drift down your arm. Light little touches, “You have to be when born— ah,” the edge of the knife catches your thick nipple as he slides it across your tit.

He kisses you again, real sweet this time though. Tongue sweeping along your bottom lip as both his encase it, “I’m sorry baby. You were saying?”

Flesh fingers dance along your stomach, sweeping from hip to hip. Just the tips. Feather light drags so you don’t forget about them. His large palm grips your hip, pushes his thumb into the meat of your side and you have to close your eyes— clear your throat to center yourself. To remember why you’re there in the first place.

Sweet breath washes over your face as Bucky rolls your left nipple now into the edge of the blade— kissing you again when you shriek at the quick, sharp pain just to eat the sound. You lose the fingers around your hip, only to find them again suddenly, jumping in slight surprise as calloused pads cup a soft, wet cunt.

Bucky’s still blinking slow, fingers pushing along a swollen clit, massaging. He’s real close now, prickly cheek rubbing against yours, teeth nibbling at your jawline.

Your own fingers dig into his biceps as your eyes flutter with the tightening of your stomach. A warmth starts to spread through your veins. Hips find a little rhythm against his hand. A sharp prick here and there as he circles that knife— your own damn knife— around your tits and back up to your throat again.

That’s when he sinks two long, thick fingers into you, not stopping until his palm is flush with your sticky folds. His thumb pressed against the sensitive little nub at the center of you.

His eyes are slits, head tilted up slightly as his mouth hangs, dragging in the air you expel. Only then does his fingers start to move, delving in and out, thumb still pushing along your clit.

“God,” you pant, pushing your head upwards against the wall, “Mmm, I can’t—” his fingers push deeper and the words are gone, like they never even existed in the first place, “Fuck.”

Bucky pushes the smooth blade against your throat just a little harder— the sharp edge forcing your chin upward a little more. He flattens his thumb against your lower stomach, starts to pull his fingers, not push them. The heel of his palm starts to slap against your skin as you buck into the motion.

Your hands slip up to his shoulders, both arms wrapping lazily around either side of his neck. The soft hum from earlier is replaced with high pitched whimpers and breathy little squeaks. Bitten off words fall from your lips as you squirm against the wall, wanting him deeper, faster, harder— which he delivers without you having to say a word.

He grabs your cheeks, pinching hard as the blade flattens across your pouty lips. A weak, desperate whimper sounds, all your resolve gone. Whatever leverage you thought you had completely wiped away— and it makes a wicked grin spread on Bucky’s lips.

“You close, baby? Hmm?” he hums, licking at your mouth again, “Oh sweet girl, you wanna come, huh? You gonna come for me?”

He strokes your clit with the tip of his thumb, your walls clenching around his fingers. The gentle encouragement continues, real soft and between sweet little kisses all over your face. A dull ache settles in your belly, a thick heat starting to stir within. Your heart leaps into your throat as your hips pump with Bucky’s hand, the release so close you can taste it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groan, “‘m gonna fuckin—”

“You want it? Huh? Want me to make you come honey?”

You squeak in response, nodding fast as you bite down into your lip, “Please. Please.”

Heat ripples through your body as you start to tremble, legs going shaky and weak. Muscles start to burn all over as you tense hard, coaxing the sweet agony swirling in your stomach. You cry out, his name hanging on your lips as the rush of it all pushes higher and higher.

Just as you start to unravel, just as the coil begins to snap, his fingers are gone. Pulled from your cunt and clit. You’re whipped around his body, forced back towards the bed. Your mind racing— maybe you’ll be getting some of that cock afterall.

Or not.

Metal slaps around your wrist, bites into the skin as it clamps down, the clink of teeth sliding into the lock housing ringing in your ears. You snap your head towards the sound when it all finally connects in your murky brain. The horror of realization floods into your veins— blood running cold as your stomach drops to your feet.

The handcuffs clink against the dark metal headboard as you fight against it, “You bastard! You fuckin’ piece of shit, let me go!” you shout, thrashing your arm back and forth, pulling as hard as you can, “Goddamn it— let me the fuck go! I’ll fuckin’ kill you, you bast—”

“Ooph,” Bucky jests, octave rising as he slips back into his jeans, “You got a filthy little mouth on you.”

“Fuck you!”

He scoffs, laughing gently as he pulls his black shirt back over his head. The bastard even starts to hum as he plops down on the edge of the bed, taking his time while he pushes his feet back into his boots and shrugs into his jacket.

You keep sharp eyes on him as he stands and turns to face you, dangling a pair of small silver keys next to his grinning face before he tosses them somewhere deep in the apartment. You swipe at him with your free hand as he approaches, just barely catching his chin as he kneals down, “I’m gonna kill you,” you smile, a blind rage engulfing every pore, every muscle, every ounce of your body.

Bucky shrugs, “Not tonight, sweets. Listen, tell Sam I’m sorry about the mess, hm?”

“Who the fuck is Sam?” you hiss.

He looks down at his watch, “Yeah, he should be home in about an hour. It’s not everyday you walk into your apartment to find a naked, wannabe assassin handcuffed to your bed, so, give him my apologies— wait, you know about Sam, right? The new Cap, they made it official a couple of weeks ago.”

Your jaw clenches as you stare back at his smiling face, more humiliation pouring through you as you realize he’s had you pegged the entire goddamn time.

“Oh baby,” he laughs again, “You didn’t honestly think I’d take you back to my place, did you? I don’t even know you— you kids today are so reckless.”

Blue eyes bounce between yours for a few seconds before he glances down at his hands, works them back into his black gloves. He pulls your butterfly knife from his back pocket and starts to play with it, flicking his wrist to close it, and then open it over and over again.

“I’m keeping this,” he offers as he locks it closed and slips it back into his pocket, “Maybe you’ll find the balls to try and take it from me.”

“Oh,” you laugh, shaking your head, “I’m taking it back.”

Bucky stands, the sound of his heavy boots sounding through the apartment as he moves towards the door, “I look forward to it kiddo.”

***

If there’s one thing you respect about Bucky Barnes, it’s his attention to detail.

Right on the dot, exactly one hour later, you snap your head towards the front door as keys start to jingle in the lock. With the bed sheet wrapped loosely around your torso, you straighten up against the wall, eyes wide as you watch an exhausted Samuel Thomas Wilson walk into his apartment.

“Oh, fuck!” he shouts, jumping slightly and dropping his bag to the floor when he locks eyes with you, “What in the fuck?”

“I can explain… sort of.” you start, holding up your hand.

You apparently don’t need to. Sam’s phone is to his ear within seconds as he starts to pace back and forth, “Bucky, this is not why I gave you a key to my mother fuckin’ apartment!”

[ryeimagines]

Anchor - Liam Dunbar Imagine

Based on this prompt. Word count 1496. I’m not really sure about this one but I hope that you enjoy it. I’m a bit rusty, getting back into the swing of things so please be kind. You can kind of see it as a pre slash, up to interpretation. 

The banging on your window woke you from your slumber, a soft moan escaping your throat as you suddenly found yourself on the floor instead of the comfortable you remembered falling asleep in. Dazed you slowly rose on your feet, it took you a minute to remember what had woken you in the first place. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for the occasional nightly visits from your best friend, spending more time in your bedroom than in his own house to the point you had a routine in place. Things weren’t always so easy though, it took a while for him to be comfortable enough to stay around, let alone fall asleep. You knew he had anger issues which often got him into trouble.

That was, before he suddenly did a one eighty out of no-where and pulled the disappearing act on you, always finding excuses to not hang out, or forgetting plans you’d made. It had been weeks since he set foot in your room, and frankly you were getting close to losing it. You knew something big had happened and what was hurt the most wasn’t even the fact that he suddenly had a new group of friends he hung out with or forgetting about you, it was the fact that your best friend was hurting and you couldn’t do anything to help, he didn’t tell you about it. And now here he was, showing up out of nowhere after ghosting you like nothing ever happened.  

“What do you want Dunbar?”You tried your best to sound indifferent, but it fell a bit short. A pained noise made you turn around to face him.

“Liam.” The brief rush of relief of seeing him with your own two eyes was overtaken by a wave of fear meeting his gaze, finally taking full notice of his state, eyes glowing yellow. He growled, unwittingly making you take a step back in response. Something was seriously wrong. You’ve seen him mad before, in every kind of emotion really but never anything like this. He looked wild, animalistic, ready to tear someones’ throat out. It was the first time you had ever been afraid of him, sensing the danger that you were in. But it was still your best friend, no matter what he did, or whatever strange new stuff he was into. Whatever it was, you could fix this, you wouldn’t leave him. Which is why you went against your gut and stepped into his personal space, inches from his face without breaking his gaze, moving slowly not to startle him.

“Liam, I-”You faltered for a second, not sure what to say. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, or why you have claws all of the sudden, believe me that’s something we will discuss later, but something is up with you and I need you to snap out of it. This isn’t you. You are Liam Dunbar, my best friend, one of the kindest and most loyal people I know. I know you’re not going to hurt me, you can’t.” A soft whine came from the boy in front of you and you took it as encouragement to slowly raise your hand and touch his cheek, fingers brushing against the sharp fangs that were coated in crimson. 

“Come back to me. I need you. Whatever this is you’re going through, we can work it out together. I’m right here. Always. You’re not a bad person, you’re not a monster. You have a choice. I know you will do the right thing, you always do.” Please, come back to me. 

You were surprised by fingers gently brushing against your wrist, opening your eyes to meet familiar pools looking back at you with apprehension and pain and something you couldn’t quite put a name on. Your body moved on instinct and you found yourself clinging onto him before you knew what you were doing. After the shock had worn off, your brain started buzzing with unanswered questions that you had put on hold until now, begrudgingly untangling yourself from his arms. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.” He smiled sheepishly, fidgeting with his shirt. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you or anything?”

“I’m fine.” You assured him, glad he couldn’t see the bruises that would most likely appear soon on your arm where he grabbed it a little too tight at some point.

“What’s going on with you? Don’t you dare give me that nothing bull. You came in here soaked and covered in blood. I’m hoping it isn’t yours by the way. What the hell is going on?”

“It’s a long story. You should probably sit down.” You did, sensing the seriousness in his voice. 

“Okay so, werewolves, very much real.” 

That was your introduction to the supernatural world, and everything werewolf. That was quite the shock, you were glad you heeded his advice. He kept sending you looks through out his explanation and you urged him to keep going, you needed to know it all. That was a lot to take in, part of you were mad that he didn’t come to you sooner about this, but more than anything you were afraid. Terrified. For him, of all these people and supernatural creatures who wanted to hurt him. You were thankful to Scott for saving his life but also pissed that he put him in danger like this, which you weren’t shy to let him know the first time you joined Liam at one of their pack meetings, introducing his face to a bat. 

“You better keep him safe McCall. If he get’s hurt out there, it’s on you.” He nodded quietly nursing his bloddy nose, recognising the truth in your words. “Good, we understand each other.” You grinned, a little satisfied at the gleam of fear in his eyes. 

“You’re going to fit in perfectly.” Lydia snorted, gesturing for you to come over to join her. “I could use some help with this research, these ingrates are no help whatsoever. ” 

“Hey!” Stiles interjected from where he was laying on the couch, eyes still glued to the screen. “I helped. I’m just taking a break.”

“I’d love to.” You ended the conversation there before it got any further, returning Liam’s smile before burying your head in the books. It was all you did for the next couple of days, researching everything supernatural. Lydia introduced you to the bestiary, containing every possibly nightmare you could imagine. When you weren’t researching, you spent the time interrogating the pack and asking questions. You made it clear from day one that you two were a package deal, wherever Liam went you followed. The younger Hale was the only one who protested your precedes, letting out a disgruntled growl from where he was lurking. You ignored him. Apparently his uncle was even worse, you weren’t to keen to find that out for yourself though.

There was one thing that kind of bothered you, that kept on creeping up on you when you least expected it. Remembering that night, and the state he was in, and then being totally fine again. Actually, there was a couple of things but you hadn’t talked about it. Part of you was hesitant, but the other was growing more impatient each day and that was the one that finally won out one afternoon a couple of weeks after the incident took place. It just kind of came out, you were not really a person of tact, blurting it out over the kitchen table at dinner, causing him to start coughing like crazy. 

“So why did you show up in my room exactly? I mean, I get that you went kind of feral, but why did you show up here? Did you meant to do that?”

“Uh.” He shrugged, finally collecting himself. “I don’t know, it wasn’t really a conscious choice. I just felt this instinct to run to safety. Home.”

“My house?”

“No, I was running to you. There’s something about you that helps me stay in control. My wolf feels safe around you. I remember them trying to talk to me but it didn’t work. Only with you.”

“Oh.”

“I talked with Scott about it, and what he said made sense. I didn’t really know how to tell you so I just kept quiet about it but. You’re my anchor.” You sat speechless, wondering how he could be so calm about this new development, like it wasn’t a big deal. You had stumbled across anchors before during your deep dives, and there was a lot to it. You weren't sure if you should feel happy or terrified at the prospect that he put so much fate in you, essentially his humanity in your hands. 

“Why me?” You finally managed, voice hoarse. 

“It’s always been you, you were always there. Who else would it be? I trust you, I need you. Me being a werewolf means a lot of changes, but not that. You’re the one thing I’ve never doubted.”

[fleshdyke]

fuck it, i was gonna wait until i finished the ref sheets to post my headcanons, but since my pencil is broken and i can’t draw right now, i’m just gonna make a text post

(please reblog i worked really hard on this)

wings of fire tribe headcanons!

mudwings

large, curved horns. males have larger ones

very big ears

big ol nose. kinda like a dog’s

large, durable teeth that stick out their mouth (top and bottom)

short wings, not great for long flights

two rows of back spines, right next to each other. they split partway down the back and the middle area widens until they’re almost at the sides of the tail

wide, strong tail, sometimes used as a shovel

tail can make a loud drum-like noise when slapped against the ground, and this is often used as a display of aggression and dominance

saliva contains a very mild venom that can paralyze prey if it enters an open wound. can only affect a dragon in very high doses

sleep pretty much anywhere, but often nap buried in mud

bury their eggs in mud and build mounds around them for extra protection + warmth

egg/hatchling mortality rate is very low

eat a diet of mostly meat and swamp birds, but some fish. plants are consumed almost exclusively for medicinal purposes

known for being exceptional chefs

mudwings are particularly fond of spicy food

farms aren’t super common, but many mudwings are ranchers

sandwings

large ears and eyes

very sharp hearing, smell, and sight

small faces, good for digging in sand

very wide wingspan, can fly very long distances without stopping/sustenance

second-best fliers of all tribes, next to skywings

very long, flexible tails

tail barbs make a rattling noise, and can be vibrated in a way that other tribes can’t to make that loud rattle

venom is never used for hunting, because the toxins can transfer to whoever consumes it via the meat and blood

each back talon has a large, sharp sickle claw

sleep most often indoors or buried in sand (they also do this to cool off)

eat mostly meat, but also enjoy plants such as coconut, cactus, and aloe

no “middle class”, most sandwings are either very rich or very poor

trade skills are extremely valuable to most dragons

smallest pyrrhian tribe

seawings

dull teeth, use bony protrusions from upper jaw to catch fish

no external ears

cannot hear anything while underwater, because a fin covers the ear to prevent water from getting in

bodies covered in feelers that can release venom on command

small and narrow wings

short but powerful tail

claws are virtually useless in battle, as they use their pseudoteeth to catch fish, but can deliver venom

fat and blubbery

very smooth and small scales, almost skin-like

sleep either in small coral caves or drifting in the open ocean with half their brains awake

eat a diet of mostly fish and marine animals, but some tropical and aquatic plants

venom is mostly used for hunting, but high doses can seriously injure and kill a dragon

high beauty standards

coral is beloved to seawings, and to harm it is one of the highest offences

skywings

hard, sharp “beak” on the end of their snout (both upper and lower jaw)

branched horns, grow more points with age

pointy ears

long, narrow bodies

very wide wingspan

feathered wings

feathers on the end of the tail, act as a rudder

the more fire, the darker the skywing’s scales

firescales are black and have phoenix-like feathers

sleep like birds, with their head between their wings, but sometimes catch high air currents and sleep while flying

can go for weeks without touching land

eat a diet of fresh meat and occasionally bone shards and marrow. birds of prey are *never* hunted

one of the only farming and ranching tribes

birds of prey are common pets and hunting companions, raptors can form strong bonds with their skywing owners

hold a yearly olympics-style athletic competition, mostly sports, but sometimes gladiator activities are a part of the ceremony

very fond of sparkly things, especially gold

rainwings

small snouts

large eyes, have impressive night vision to help them see in the darkness of the rainforest

small, flexible wings, not good for long-distance flight

long limbs

large claws

long barbed tongue, to reach hard-to-get food

always brightly coloured, often with hypnotic patterns, to ward away bugs

skin is slightly toxic

long midsections

underscales are hard, mostly to protect their tails and stomachs as they swing from rough tree branches

sleep either in treehouses or in the branches

eat lots of fruit, flower nectar, and tree sap. they also eat lots of bugs, and occasionally a fish

talented gardeners, high-class rainwings and royalty often hire florists to decorate their homes with colourful plants

many rainwings care for a wide variety of pets, including parrots, tropical fish, toxic frogs, snakes, lizards, and ocelots

icewings

impressive sense of smell and sight

pointed ears, furry flaps over the ear canal to keep too much cold air from entering

large tusks that jut out from the upper lip

large, furry talons to keep the snow and ice from freezing their sensitive palms

long, sharp claws

large wings with spiky scales on the “hand”, often are used to aid in walking

wings have fur down the edges of the outermost “finger”, and have thick membranes, meaning they are very good insulators

furred mane down the back, which the sharp spines stick out of

breathing in makes the neck spikes clatter together, making a light, tinking, xylophone-like sound

tail has a large tuft of fur to help keep warm while curled up

sleep indoors when possible, but their large talons and claws are good for digging burrows in the snow when needed

eat a diet of entirely meat and fish, as no plants survive in the tundra

icewings are one of the most progressive tribes, despite them being so isolated from the rest of the continent

generally have good relations with skywings and seawings

royals are considered “stars”, and icewing celebrities are often very glamorous and are constantly followed by paparazzi and tabloids

many icewings dye their manes different colours

are much more aquatic than in canon, can hold their breath longer than a mudwing and there is a part of their palace that is underwater

icewings get furballs from cleaning their fur, like cats. it’s kinda gross

biggest of all tribes

nightwings

large ears, which are pointed upwards in a resting position

have a fleshy nose thing, like most bats

have a very sharp sense of smell

small, straight horns

pointy wings

wing membrane connects to legs, which then connects to the tail

long, flexible back legs

sleep upside-down, hanging from rocky ceilings

nightwings are scavengers, and will eat almost anything

very academically-focused

most nightwings are strong believers in the paranormal, and enjoy ghost stories

one of the most scientifically advanced tribes, and despite popular belief, will happily teach other tribes how to build some of their machines, had they ever asked

all tribes

amount of fire/frostbreath varies from dragon to dragon, and it’s just something a dragon is born with. it can’t be changed and dragons have seriously injured themselves while trying to

order of average flight skill, best to worst: skywings, sandwings, icewings, nightwings, mudwings, seawings, rainwings

order of average size, largest to smallest: icewings, mudwings, skywings, seawings, nightwings, rainwings, sandwings

chairs are small platforms or branch-like perches. how common the type of chair is depends on the tribe, as perches are more common in the sky kingdom, and platforms are more common in the sand kingdom. the graphic novel chairs can eat ass

all dragons shed their scales once a year, like how birds molt their feathers. this is an uncomfortable and hormonal time and tempers run high during molting

all dragonets have one large molt around the time they turn five, similar to how children lose their baby teeth. i think either this or regular molting was eluded to in dragonslayer, but yeah

females are slightly larger than males

and we’re done! i don’t have quite enough on the pantala tribes yet to make a full list, but i will update this when i do.

if anyone has any of their own headcanons they’d like to share, please do! and tell me if you’d like me to/you’re okay with me adding them to my list, because i’d love to grow this a little more!

i will post the reference sheets for these as soon as i finish them :>

feel free to use these!! i would absolutely LOVE if anyone did 😭

(mudwing, icewing, and sandwing sounds belong to @skleetheirken, tysm for letting me add em!)

pantala addition

illustrations

[notmrskennedy]

Noticed

Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

A/N - Howdy! Here’s another little something from my drafts. It’s a draft and a half again so be gentle with it. Also, I’m touch averse and I would be so happy to find someone I wasn’t upset with touching. But c’est la vie! I hope y’all enjoy!

Summary - The touch averse agent starts getting touchy....

W/C - 2.5k

Warnings - none I think, but lmk if there is something

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

If Morgan was being honest with himself, he thought you were dying. Or maybe ill. Or so feverish you’d abandoned every single principle you had. Because he’d been there that first day of yours, waltzing up from the coffee machine to see you nervously trailing behind Hotch. It was painful to watch, he remembers, so terribly nervous you’d envy the kid on one of his bad days.

He had smiled at you and stirred his coffee and remained optimistic that someone so obviously terrified would be a decent field agent. (You’d been decent and then some, especially in an interrogation room). There’d been one non-committal wave—distinctly reminiscent of a certain genius—and the first full sentence of, “I’m sorry, but I just don’t do the touching thing. Handshakes included.”

Every little touch plagues you. You’re six inches away at all times, lest someone accidentally bump into you or get the wrong idea that you might be willing to brush shoulders. There’s no friendly pats. No high fives. Certainly no hugs. Garcia is furious in her attempt to loosen you up—to no avail—but Morgan knows better than to push. Something makes you hate skin to skin contact and he’s not looking to share trauma stories with you. Not yet.

So this, Morgan thinks as he wanders into the bullpen while stirring his coffee, is a sign that you’ve lost your mind.

He watches as you carefully extend one palm to one Dr. Spencer Reid. Perched on the edge of his desk, you’re a regular fixture, just another cute figurine to add to the collection. It’s the end to some wild discussion he could hear in the kitchenette, full of flailing limbs and butchered sentences. Everyone always thought it was cute, if you stripped away how irritating it could be.

This is the point where you two are caught up in whatever moment you’re having, so much so that you extend an upturned palm between the two of you. Reid threads his hands through his hair, stunned at your peace offering. Or maybe an offering of something more than friendship. Morgan assumes its something more; not only because you have the softest grin he’s ever seen, but because your fingers are practically begging the kid to hold your hand.

Reid’s careful in how he asks his question—Morgan doesn’t know what it is, but he can just tell. The wide eyes. The scared contemplation. The are you sure parting the kid’s lips.

Grinning and blushing, you just wiggle your fingers. Murmur something that Morgan isn’t allowed to hear. Something only for Spencer. There’s surprise before he grips onto your hand, wriggling all ten combined fingers together. You giggle as you spin him around in his desk chair and get tangled up.

Dropped jaw and grinning, Morgan can’t believe you, so touch averse you, are willing engaging in such risky behaviour. There’s a weird few moments when he wants to remind both of you to wear protection in such endeavours.

And as he’s wondering if hands need condoms, the two of you let go and move on like nothing’s happened. You go back to punctuating your points with your flailing hands. Spencer goes back to distracting from his blush with paperwork.

Morgan goes to get more coffee, trying to stop imaging that you two were his kids, growing up without his consent. And maybe also the hand condoms.

#

It’s shortly after JJ’s wedding—about midnight as the cleaning crew are picking up the straggling drunks—both Hotch and Rossi notice. They’re leaned up against the bar, each smoking a cigar, watching a slightly tipsy you teach an awkwardly sober Spencer Reid how to swing dance.

It’s no secret that you and Reid get on like a house on fire, two nerds that couldn’t shut up about whatever weird ass shit was on your brains. Rossi never made much move to care. Hotch was too stressed to think about what the pair of you did off company time. Everyone, them included, imagined that what time you did spend together was three feet apart. In museums. Wherever. No one questioned what kind of weird nerd shit you did, especially stuff that they couldn’t really be bothered to care about.

Now, they’re forced to carefully consider the implications of how touchy you’re getting. With Reid.

He’s even more gangly and uncoordinated than normal, as Hotch and Rossi watch on, getting thrown around like a rag doll. It’s kind of adorable, Rossi thinks and shares a well meaning look with Hotch. The two of you would be cute and he’s hoping that you do get together. Rossi always knows about these things, even if Hotch is positive that you two are just friends. And as two professional gentlemen do, they made a bet.

Twenty bucks.

Your laugh—one that no one gets tired of hearing—echoes around Rossi’s whole yard, even into his house. Reid’s voice is about two octaves too high as you spin him around on his wobbly feet. You go from three feet apart to chest to chest and back again. Rossi remembers high school dances vaguely and Hotch absently thinks about Hayley’s old infatuation with Grease.

Rossi takes another long drag from his cigar, grateful for the indisputable proof that you two are shacking up. There is no way that two people so touch averse could be touching this much without prior exposure. The yard is a ruckus of both of your laughters, year after year of awkwardness falling off you both in sheets. They’re no denying you two shut in nerds are finally having some fun.

It’s warming both Hotch and Rossi’s hearts.

And their bet.

#

Penelope notices next. Who knew that such a simple interaction could leave her speechless? Stammering and stuttering over not even a full minute of insanity.

She didn’t know how she’d gotten sick, or what she’d come down with, but the only thing that was keeping her in her work chair was you. And the endless buckets of soup that you kept pouring down her throat. Without a case—thank god—for the last couple days, all that you’ve done is sit in the bat cave, keeping her and her soup warm.

It’s as you are finishing some corny ass joke that she thinks how sweet you are. How loving. Penelope’s love language has always been touch—she’s given too many hugs to count—but it’s taken her a minute to figure out yours. And as she stares into the chicken soup in her hands, she realises that it’s everything you do for her. Your love is literally palpable.

It’s in the bright keychains you bring back. Or the crazy pens. Or the way you always drive her home after drinking.

As she’s opening her mouth to tell you, tell you just how much she appreciates everything, when Reid pops his head in, whole body following. He’s got too much of a grin this early. But when he’s far enough into the room, he spreads his fingers out over your shoulder and squeezes. Says something about a case and you follow behind him with a wave of your hand at Penelope. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Like Penelope hasn’t been the one furiously trying to break you out of your shell. The predetermined first to get a hug in the office.

You’re still up and still waving and by the time she’s got her wits about her, she’s asking, “You let Reid touch you?”

The empty room and the closing door don’t answer.

#

JJ is nearly the last to find out. Well, your little touching relationship with Spencer has been the only topic of gossip between anyone for the last six weeks. They can’t believe they hadn’t picked up on the little bits of affection passed between the two of you.

Hand touches. Shoulder squeezes. Quick brushes. The mystical hug Morgan claims he once saw.

For the rest of the world, you and Spencer were nothing but friendly. Maybe even best friendly. To the team of highly trained profilers who had been friends with the pair of you for a combined 15 years, this was marriage material. This was you and Spencer screaming the pair of you had eloped.

You two crazy kids had to be together, but the team was left to sussing it out for themselves. Neither of you two would ever say anything, never give anything up. But surely, the three of them—using Penelope would be cheating of course—could figure out when you two had started up. Because you had to have. There was no way all of this was just friendly.

And it isn’t. That much is clear when JJ gets a phone call from you while she’s looking a crime scene over for what feels like the gazillionth time. Some un-sub with the usual cocktail of daddy issues, anger issues, and a healthy dose of narcissism.

It’s rare you call anyone without good reason. You aren’t the type to just chat—everyone has speculated you got enough of that from Spencer. And once JJ says hello, you start bawling.

You’re sobbing and JJ has no idea what to do.

“Y/n, y/n,” she tries, hoping you’ll calm down enough to breathe properly. “You have to tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s—it’s Spencer,” you hiccup. JJ can hear you sniffling into your sleeves. Can hear the blinkers go as you change lanes. “He’s not answering—not answering his phone. And he said he’d—that he’d call, but he hasn’t. And JJ something’s wrong.”

By the way your breath hitches and your sobs crackle into the phone, JJ knows exactly how bad it has to be. Spencer, however, is supposed to be following up a lead with Emily. Some paint huffer in his mom’s garage—nothing more than a routine witness report. She almost can’t believe something would go wrong.

“What happened? Where are you?”

“JJ,” you sniffle before the flood gates open again, “I can just feel it. Something’s wrong.”

JJ’s mind scrambles. As much as you played it off, you had a sixth sense. Every time, every countable time, someone got hurt, you knew before it happened. You had a gut for these things and JJ didn’t want to think about how bad this was going to be. How bloody. So she scrambles for her car and doesn’t wait for the other detectives to figure it out.

JJ’s halfway to the witness’s house when you make it there yourself. You’re still on the phone, doing a horrible attempt at trying to keep each other calm. You’ve traded the sobs for hiccups, thankfully. JJ can hear you climbing the porch stairs. She’s taking corners at 65 miles an hour.

Nothing seems fast enough when JJ hears the phone clatter to the floor and the shout of “oh my god, Spencer!”

Nothing is fast enough when you’re sobbing out, “You can’t die on me like this.”

Nothing is fast enough when JJ quietly but distinctly hears, “I love you too much for you to fucking die, Spencer Reid.”

#

Spencer Reid always thinks he’s the last to find out. He’s blunt and oblivious and thinks too much to just see what’s in front of his face. He was so sure they had all seen how in love he was, just how desperately he was clinging to the hope they wouldn’t notice. If they didn’t notice, you wouldn’t. Not while wearing the same sort of blinders he wore.

But once everything had come out? He was positive everyone else had known. That he’d come into work one morning and there would be a cake engraved with the words, “Congrats on Shacking Up!”

It never happened. No cake. No lights. No surprises. No one seemed to know or notice or anything. Spencer and you went on like nothing had changed—it really hadn’t anyway. He liked to laugh when you told him the two of you had been practically dating since the first time he’d offered to take you to a Korean film festival.

Two years later and he’s become very aware of you. And also the ache. All of the very dull and consistent ache in his body. Another scar to add to the collection, he bitterly thinks, out of anaesthesia enough to know that he’s in a hospital. That he’s been hurt. That someone’s holding his hand.

It’s calloused and soft and just perfectly latched onto his. A hand he’d waited to hold for too long. One that he’d be holding for the rest of his life.

Attached to the hand is you, sleeping haphazardly between his bed and a plastic chair. Your fingers are tangled in his, head rested on the crook of your arm and the bed. There’s too much of you curled up in a chair. It’s one of his favourite bits about you, just how dedicated you could be. How you were always there when he woke up and always would be.

He smiles and chuckles despite the pain in his ribs. You wake with a start, one startled gasp followed by a shuddery exhale as you realise again where you are. That nothing’s changed. That everything’s changed.

Through lidded eyes, he watches your eyes light up, matching you grin for grin. He watches the anger flash across your face for not even a second, and he knows exactly how bad you want to murder him for scaring you so bad.

Instead, you press frantic kisses to the back of his knuckles, message fully received. You missed him. You’d been terrified. You’d cried so hard, he can still feel the salt on your lips.

“Spencer,” you breathe, giving his hand one more kiss for good measure and pressing his knuckles to your cheek. “God, I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“I’m alive, y/n, I promise,” he whispers back. Hoarse and adorably okay. It’s one thing to expect to get shot going after un-subs. It’s another to get attacked by a PCP addled grandmother.

He wiggles a finger against your cheek. Even though he can’t see your red rimmed eyes or the dark tear tracts on your cheeks, he can feel the tear that pools on his finger. But before he can reassure you one more time, you shush him and tell him to get some sleep and that you’ll both worry about this later. Maybe over jell-o.

He grins.

#

The team, visiting the next morning, doesn’t have the heart to wake up either of you. Reid looks happy for the first time in—years—with you carefully curled into his side. Sure, there’s a scratchy hospital gown and some pesky lines overriding everything, but it’s cute. No denying that. Thank god you two knuckleheads are finally being open about it. Even if you’re sleeping.

Emily smiles to herself as she readjusts her sling. Morgan and JJ are trading exclamations of shock, while Hotch passes Rossi twenty dollars. You readjust and Reid’s arm moves to rest across your cheek. JJ isn’t subtle when she takes a photo, sniggering.

Emily is even less subtle when she snorts. “I guess I can finally let the cat out of the bag.”

Everyone perks up; she swears she sees Reid open an eye.

“Nearly six months ago, y/n drunkenly confessed to dating Reid. She’s a real wild card on tequila, let me tell you.”

“You knew?” Morgan screeches, “and you didn’t say anything?”

Emily shrugs, winces with her busted up shoulder. “Does it matter? Didn’t we all know?”

[wicked-mind]

The King and Queen: Chapter Five

Summary: Y/N is the Queen of Guns and James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is the King of New York City. She wants him as a buyer, but Bucky wants her to be his queen. After all, every King needs a Queen.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: +18 only, AU, Mafia!Bucky, Dark!Bucky, sexual content, drugs and guns mentioned, swearing, heart problems, pregnancy, lots of torture ( I put anything in that could be considered a trigger warning. If I missed any, let me know )

Series Masterlist

All Writings List

Chapter five - The Uncooperative Queen

Natasha and Steve watched Bucky go on a rampage through the new club with the wooden bat, smashing anything he could. Steve had never seen Bucky in such a rage to the point of destroying something he worked so hard for, “What are we going to do, Nat?” He asks softly to the redhead.

Natasha watched Bucky closely, the phone with the live stream of Y/N still in her hand, “You are going to take James home.” She said as she looked up to Steve, “You’re going to try and calm him down so he doesn’t destroy everything in his path.”

Steve’s nodded at her words, wondering how she could be so calm in a situation like this, “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to do my job. I have to call the IRA Kings and the cartel to let them know what happened.” Natasha told Steve, passing him the phone, “Find a charger for that, don’t let it die. Try not to let him watch, but keep a close eye on it. She may try to give us some hints.” She finished before walking out the doors of the club.

Steve looked at the phone for a moment at the unconscious Y/N, before putting it in his pocket. He approached Bucky carefully, not wanting to be on the wrong side of the bat he carried, “Buck,” He said, “Let’s go home, see what we can figure out.”

Bucky turned to Steve, angry veins pulsing from his neck. He gripped the bat before swinging at glasses that were on the bar, “They fucking took her, Steve!” He yelled, “I let her get taken! I should’ve taken her to the hospital myself! Dammit!” He took another swing at a mirror on the wall, shattering it.

Steve stood in his spot, watching Bucky swing the bat, “Look, Buck,” He began, “Nobody’s home to feed Alpine. You should go feed the cat, for Y/N, right?” He asks, hoping to center his friend back from the rage that had built up.

Bucky looked at Steve at he spoke, nodding slowly at the mention of feeding Y/N’s cat. He drops the bat on the floor, “Right, Alpine.” He muttered out, at least there was something he could do for Y/N even it was just making sure her cat was taken care of. He followed Steve out of the club, getting in the car.

The ride home was silent, Bucky just staring out the window as he processed what was happening. Y/N was somewhere, probably freezing and being tortured. He couldn’t get the images of her out of his brain. He needed her back with him. How is a king supposed to function without his queen? When they got back to Bucky’s home, he walked inside in silence, immediately finding Alpine and scooping the cat up into his arms and walking over to the food bowl. He fed Alpine, stroking the white fur softly as he was lost in his own thoughts. Steve watched Bucky closely, wondering when the rage would hit him again. Natasha walked in a few moments later, clearing her throat to grab their attention, “There’s some things we need to talk about, James.” She said, keeping her face straight and emotionless.

Bucky and Steve both looked to Natasha as she spoke, curious what information was about to come out from the redhead. Bucky walked towards her, tucking his hands in his pocket as he narrowed his eyes, “What do you know, Natasha?”

Natasha watched Bucky carefully as he approached, “What do you know about the cartel deal that Y/N has?” She asks.

Bucky’s face twisted into confusion at the question, thinking he knew everything about Y/N’s business but now feeling unsure on how Nat’s question was presented, “I think the better question is what don’t I know?” He asks through his teeth.

Natasha let out small sigh, looking around the room as she thought about the information she was about to divulge before her eyes landed back to Bucky, “The cartel. Did Y/N ever tell you how she got the deal with them?”

Bucky kept his narrowed eyes on Natasha’s face, pulling a hand out of his pocket to run through his dark hair, “Her second husband wanted out of the deal, she didn’t. They decided to keep the deal going with her instead.” 

Natasha bit her lip at his words before speaking again, “That’s technically true.” She said, “But what she couldn’t tell you is that when her second husband wanted out from dealing guns to the cartel, Y/N was approached by two deep undercover CIA agents in the cartel. Even the United States Government has a side in the cartel war. They told her if she didn’t keep the pipeline to guns open as the new boss, they’d ruin everything for her. Throw her and every affiliate of her’s in jail for the rest of their lives. So they offered her a deal- keep the pipeline open as well as keeping the secret of the CIA agents and she would be considered untouchable by any law enforcement agency unless there was indisputable footage of her committing crimes. Why do you think no agency has investigated or came after you two since you’ve met? Y/N was going to have you meet the two CIA agents in a few weeks during a gun exchange, sort things out with them.”

Bucky’s nostrils flared in anger at the new information, he had no idea. He thought it was odd nobody ever asked questions when Y/N and himself committed their ruthless crimes and now he knew why, “She’s been working hand in hand with the CIA and hasn’t told me?!” He suddenly yelled at Natasha, his hands gripping into fists.

Natasha stayed calm at Bucky’s anger, “She was going to tell you. Nobody knows except Y/N, myself, and now you and Steve.” She told him, her voice even, “I’ve informed them what happened. The CIA agents are doing everything in their power to try and figure out where the stream is coming from so we can find Y/N but it is bouncing through different VPNs all over the world.”

Bucky brought his hand to his face, taking deep breath. This information was a lot to process with everything going on. Y/N, his wife, was pregnant, kidnapped, being tortured, and was working with agents of the CIA. He could feel the rage slipping in, but didn’t want to disturb Alpine from eating the food. He points his finger suddenly at Natasha, “You will tell me immediately if the CIA come up with any information.” He hissed out at her. He walks over to Steve, holding out his hand for the phone with the live stream of Y/N on it. Steve handed it over willingly, not wanting to be on the other end of Bucky’s rage if he denied giving it to him, “I’ll be in my office.” He muttered out, opening the phone to see Y/N still sitting in the chair unconscious and alone. Bucky walks to his office, shutting the door behind him and sitting in his chair. He propped the phone up on his desk and sat back in his chair, staring at the live stream.

——

Y/N opened her eyes slowly, lifting her head as she looked around the room. Her cheek stung, figuring the blow to her face had opened up a small cut on her cheek bone. She looked around in the darkness, the only light in the room from the blinking red light on camera in front of her. Y/N stared into the lens of the camera, wondering who was watching. Her eyes flickered down to the tight ropes around her wrists, trying to pull her hand to get the ropes to give any leeway with no avail. She clenched her teeth as she took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. Y/N closed her eyes as she focused on her breathing, plans plotting her her head for the next time Walker would come in.

——

Bucky didn’t sleep, instead watching Y/N all night on the phone. He had gotten a charger for it so it didn’t die. He sipped on a glass of whiskey as he watched her breathe, knowing she was trying to stay calm and keep her heart rate down. He wished he could help calm her down, know she was going to be okay. But Y/N was out of his grasp and all he could do was watch and hope she knew he was there watching over her.

Natasha and Steve came into Bucky’s office in the morning. Steve sat in a chair across from Bucky, trying to get a read on how he was holding up. Natasha walked around to stand by Bucky to look at the phone, just in time to see John Walker approaching what looked like an unconscious Y/N, “As long as she doesn’t piss him off, he won’t hurt her too bad. He has to keep her alive for the red room.”

Steve almost scoffed at Natasha’s words but held it back, “Have you met her? She specializes in pissing people off.” 

——

Y/N heard the steel door start to open, slumping her head down and holding her breath. She relaxed her body, making it look like she wasn’t breathing and she was lifeless.

“Shit, get the doctor.” Walker spat out thinking Y/N may have had a heart attack. He walked over and pulled Y/N’s hair to prop her head up to see if she was awake. He leans his head down, his ear by her mouth to listen for any breathing.

Y/N opened her eyes when she felt him close to her face, leaning her head forward and biting down hard on Walker’s ear before pulling her head back. She heard him scream and pull away, causing the ear to tear from his head. She spit his ear onto the floor, then spit again to get the blood out of her mouth, “Sorry not sorry.” She hissed out at him.

Walker brought his hand up to feel his ear which was now missing, looking at it on the floor, “You fucking cunt.” He screamed at Y/N, moving toward her and kicked her in the chest, causing Y/N and the chair to fall backwards. He was on her in seconds, throwing punches to her face. He was eventually pulled back by another man.

Bucky tensed at the sight of Y/N getting punched out of his view. He couldn’t see where Walker was punching her but prayed it wasn’t the stomach. Steve had stood and moved around the desk to watch also, his lips parted in shock at the sight. Bucky grips the glass of whiskey hard enough that the glass started to crack in his hands. He listened intently to the sound, hoping for any sign Y/N was alright. He felt a little relief when he saw a doctor enter the view of the camera.

A doctor came into the steel container, “Oh my god.” He gasped as he saw Walker without an ear and Y/N tipped over. This was the same doctor that had told Y/N she was pregnant the day before, he had been taken due to him knowing about Y/N’s heart condition and was tasked with keeping her alive, “If you get the dismembered ear on ice, I can stitch it back.” He told Walker, who picked up his ear and exited the container followed by the rest of his team. The doctor walked over to Y/N, “Hey, hey Y/N. It’s me, Doctor Avery.” He told her as she looked at the ceiling. Y/N’s face was all red, her eyebrow bleeding, her lip split, as well as a blood vessel popped in her right eye. Doctor Avery could tell that she had a broken nose, and knew that she was going to have large bruises and black eyes all along her face based on the fact that her face was already red and turning deeper shades of purple already, “Let’s sit you back up.” He told Y/N, pulling the chair up to the sitting position again. He noticed some blood on the back of her head and a laceration caused when she fell backwards and hit her head on the steel floor.

As soon as Bucky saw Y/N’s face, the glass in his hand cracked apart in his hard grasp. He wanted to throw everything off his desk at the wall, but contained the anger as he had to see if Y/N was okay. Natasha leaned forward to get a better look at Y/N’s injuries on the screen of the phone. Steve was promptly handing Bucky a towel for the mess of whiskey from the shattered glass.

Y/N let out a deep breath as Doctor Avery sat her back up, looking over at him, “I know you said no strenuous activities, but I just couldn’t help myself.” She breathed out with a small smile towards him, slightly wheezing as the air passed her lips.

Doctor Avery couldn’t help but smile a slight bit at her comment. At least she was awake and responsive which was a good sign. He walks over to the bag he brought with him, pulling out a machine to monitor her heart rate, oxygen, and blood pressure. He connects it to her finger and watches the stats go up on the screen. Her blood pressure was a little high, but her heart rate and oxygen were low which was of some concern, “Well, not great but alright given the situation we are in. Your oxygen and wheezing are concerning, could’ve punctured a lung when he kicked your chest.” He told her, hearing her wheeze with every breath and looking at the forming bruise of a footprint on Y/N’s chest.

Y/N blinked tiredly, her vision having  black spots from the beating she just took to her face. She looked at the doors to see if anybody was coming before leaning as close to the doctor as she could, “You brought an emergency medical bag, “ She breathed out towards him quietly, not loud enough for the speakers on the camera to pick up, “I’ve stolen enough of those I know there’s some sort of phone in there, probably satellite for emergencies.” She swallowed hard, it felt hard to breathe and some pain filled her chest with each breath, “You weren’t blindfolded when you came in, you know where we are which means they’ll kill you when you aren’t useful anymore.” She informed him, her voice still low, “I need you to make a call.”

The doctor promptly dialed the number on the phone in the bag Y/N had told him, quickly putting it in his pocket without letting the camera see. He left the line open and went back to treating Y/N, cleaning up the gash on the back of her head so he could apply some stitches.

“What are they saying? I can’t hear them!” Bucky hollered as he watched Y/N talk to the doctor and then fumbling in his bad. Natasha’s brow furrowed as her phone started ringing, looking at the screen. She didn’t recognize the number, but answered. She held the speaker to her ear, hearing Y/N’s and the doctors voice. She quickly put it on speaker and pressed the mute button so nobody would hear her voice on the other side of the line, “It’s Y/N. The doctor must’ve had a phone in his bag.” She informed Bucky and Steve, placing the phone onto the desk. They could hear Y/N wheezing with every breath, listening intently on what she and the doctor were saying.

Y/N kept blinking hard to keep her eyes open, the spots in her sight growing in size. She took deep breathes, each hitched with a soft wheeze, “Where are we besides in a shipping container?” She asked the doctor in a hushed tone so the camera audio wouldn’t pick it up but only the phone would, wanting to get information out of him and hoping that someone on the other end of the line was listening. 

The doctor cleared his throat, trying to sound as normal as possible to not give any Hydra men outside the container suspicion, “The Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn.” He answered softly so the camera didn’t hear but hoped the phone would, slowly stitching up the laceration on her skull.

Bucky stood immediately as he heard the location, “Let’s go.” He demanded. Natasha shook her head as she heard the steel doors opening, “No wait, look, somebody’s coming in."

Y/N snapped her eyes open when she heard the steel door open, looking wide awake as Walker walked in. She sat herself up not wanting to show any weakness to her captor. Her eyes narrowed to look like she was glaring but she was really just trying to focus her vision. Her heart rate jumped a little bit on the monitor, causing it to beep quickly, “What? One bite out of you wasn’t enough?” She hissed out at Walker coldly, trying to hold back the soft wheezes.

Walker glared at her. He had a large gauze bandage where his right ear should be, “You’ll pay for that, bitch.” He warned lowly as he walked towards the table which had various tools and knives placed on it. He picked up a black knife slowly, admiring it, “Zemo wants to know where your gun warehouse is. But more importantly, he wants to know where Barnes keeps his drug supply.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and laughed a little, “Is that the demands? You want to steal our supply?.” She said shaking her head at him, “I’m not telling you shit. I won’t be commanded or controlled by some man who has to tie down a woman just to get her in her underwear.”

Walker walked up to her, wrapping his hand around her throat roughly and glaring at her, “I know that you know everything. Kings tell their whores every detail.” He growled out at her, running the knife along the inside of her bare thigh with just enough pressure to draw blood in small lines, “Now tell me.”

Y/N winced slightly at the feeling of her thigh being sliced, but kept a glare on her face to the man who held her throat in his hand. It was already hard to breathe and this wasn’t helping, “Fine, fine.” She managed to hiss out at him, causing him to remove his hand from her throat. 

Bucky frowned slightly, wondering what Y/N was going to say. Whatever information she was about to give, he would have to prepare to take care of and switch around as to not let Hydra get their supply.

Y/N took in a deep breath before speaking again, “You want information on James? Fine… If you….” She breathed out softly, her head down. A slow smile painted across her lips as she continued, “If you call him ‘daddy’ he’ll make sure you have an extra orgasm.” She giggled softly.

Bucky almost smiled at her reply. That was Y/N, quick with the comebacks and a sharp, savage tongue. But his expression quickly turned to rage again.

Walker smiled darkly as if this was the reaction he was hoping for, an extra reason to cause Y/N pain. He forcefully stabbed the knife into Y/N’s left thigh, twisting it a little. He watched Y/N scream at the pain as the blade twisted in her leg. The heart rate monitor started beeping rapidly as she screamed, her heart rate jumping into the hundreds in a split second.

“You better just kill me.” Y/N growled out, “Because when I get out of here, and I will, I am going to lock you up in my basement!” Y/N screamed at Walker, “I’m going to keep you alive for weeks. I’m going to burn all the skin off of your body slowly, pull out your eyes with a grapefruit spoon, and feed them to my cat.”

Bucky looked at Natasha, “We are leaving. Now!” He yelled at her, not wanting to see Y/N be put through anymore than she already had. He didn’t know how much more her heart could take, not to mention the possibility of harm to his unborn child.

Natasha looked at him, putting our her hand on his chest to stop him, “No, you aren’t going in there. You will be killed on sight and with the state you’re in, you won’t be stealthy about it. The CIA agents have arrived in the state. The two of them and I will take care of this. You can wait in the car or meet us at the hospital.” She told him sternly. This was the best option to keep everybody alive. They couldn’t go in there guns blazing in a situation like this. Walker could kill Y/N as soon as he heard a commotion. 

Bucky glared at her command, “Are you fucking kidding me?! Wait in the car?! Do I look like someone you can boss around?!” He screamed at her, pushing Natasha’s hand away from him aggressively. He was ready to force her out of his way when Steve got between them.

Steve got in between the two, facing Bucky, “Go Nat, I’ll keep him here.” He said, knowing this was the best option. Steve was going to have to do everything he could to keep Bucky out of this situation for his own safety and Y/N’s, “Sorry Buck, it’s for your family’s own good.”

____________________________________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @mysticapples17​ @ttalisa​ @thomaslefteyebrow​ @certainwonderlandperfection​ @rorodendra​ @hommoturttle​ @loverboyseb​

If I missed anyone on the tag list or you’d like to be added, please let me know. As always, thank you for the support (:

[bbugyu]

for you + yoon jeonghan

everyone in his life described you as his weakness, and he couldn’t even argue.

part one | part two

wc.10234 (LMAO) | fluff, smut, humor, etl/uni!au, ~new relationship stuff~, gender neutral pronouns for reader (but they have a pussy sorry), vague softdom/brattysub dynamics (guess who’s who!), there are - count em - 4 different sex scenes, more bff!gyu, filth, language, you know the drill, reader gets a lil tender, so does han, *sniffles* they just suit each other so well, please use condoms

this is where i admit that i wrote 20k of enemies to lovers garbage all based off a single line in falling for u, where they say they meant to drink a coffee with you but they accidentally chugged it bc theyre nervous. yup! all this mess for that one line! this is incredibly self indulgent and i apologize but also i don't because i needed this

~

visual culture was your new favorite class.

while there was absolutely no trouble making time to spend with jeonghan, your previous meditation time served as an allocated two hours every week where you could just sit and mess around with the boy you had growing affections for. the two of you would chat in hushed tones as the professor lectured, jeonghan’s fingertips tracing invisible patterns on your thigh as you diligently untangled his headphone cord for him, his thumb nails having been chewed too short to do it himself. he would bring you coffee on thursdays, when it was his only class of the day but your third and last. the caffeine was a well accepted afternoon pickmeup, and he never let you go after class without taking you out for lunch somewhere, claiming to be celebrating the end of your school day. then you might as well just come over to his apartment, he’d tell you. his place was closer than yours, he’d explain, swinging your hand in his. you didn’t wanna say goodbye yet, did you? afterall, the night’s still young, he’d tease, luring you with the promise of kisses between droopy eyed smiles.

jeonghan had become the complete opposite of your initial impression. he was sweet to you, genuinely, and if you liked him any less, you would say he was obsessed. you do say that, occasionally, when you’re hanging out with your friends and he texts you some purposefully cheesy line knowing it would make you roll your eyes, forcing you to mention him to your questioning friends, but you never truly meant it. you’d be a liar if you said every eye roll wasn’t just to cover up the faint feeling of butterflies in your gut. he always knew exactly how to make you want to see him, and you never hesitated to tell him when you did.

on one such day, when you had told him that if you went home you would need him to drive you into the woods and help you dig your roommate a clandestine grave, he stopped by your friend’s apartment after a shift, waiting dutifully by the door with his shoes still on and his hands shoved into his jean pockets as you searched the kitchen counter for your keys.

“serious, mingyu, what did you do with them? i know i left them next to the toaster.”

“i used your bottle opener, but i swear i put them on the coffee table,” he said, pushing back his hair as he looked around the small living room.

jeonghan watched you and mingyu tear apart the couch, trying to ignore the roommate that was leaning against the wall, eyeing him.

“where do you live?”

jeonghan blinked and looked at him. “uh, my apartment’s a couple streets over and a few-”

“roommates?” minghao watched as the older straightened his spine involuntarily, arms folded across his chest as he appraised his friend’s new chew toy.

“yeah, three,” he responded. minghao kept eyeing him. he fidgeted under the gaze, then coughed to clear his throat. for some reason unknown to even him, he said “they’re good people,” as though he was seeking some kind of approval.

minghao nodded slowly. “they act tough but they’re not. if you break their heart, i’ll break you.”

“what?”

“y/n,” he said, causing you to perk your head up from across the room while simultaneously clarifying. he lifted his hand and jangled your keys, holding them by the novelty hulk fist bottle opener. “found ‘em.”

“jesus christ, myungho, you had them the whole time?” you exhaled sharply, shoving a couch cushion back where it was meant to be. “don’t be a prick.”

you snagged the keys from him and shoved your feet into your shoes, taking the bag that jeonghan was holding for you.

“wo ai ni.”

you batted at minghao’s arm. “yeah, whatever. love you, too. see you guys later?”

mingyu threw up a peace sign from the couch, where he had promptly laid himself out after the search for keys had ceased, and minghao smiled as he waved you off and closed the door behind you.

you asked how work was, and jeonghan sighed, describing it shortly as work, but said he was glad it was over so that he could spend some time with you.

you giggled, knocking shoulders and slyly lacing your fingers between his. “cheesy.”

he gave you your favorite sideways smile, though he didn’t know it was your favorite, and you, again, ignored the flitting in your stomach that he always seemed to cause. “so, uh… myungho…”

you exhaled. “what did he say to you?”

“nothing, really,” he said quickly, knowing you would get mad at your friend if he told you the full truth. “i was just kind of curious if you two had ever, y'know…”

you looked at jeonghan. “you’re not jealous, are you?”

he looked back. “i don’t have reason to be, do i?”

“of course not,” you said, pulling your bag up on your shoulder. “i’ve kissed hao once, on a drunk dare, and we both agreed to never try it again. he’s like a brother.”

jeonghan nodded, thinking about the protective stance the tall lean man had taken when he tried (and maybe succeeded, though jeonghan would never admit it) to intimidate him. no matter the vibe he got, he trusted you, and he understood the intent - however, you made him want to do everything in his power to keep you happy, so he didn’t think this myungho character had much to worry about.

“oh my god, hannie,” you gripped his hand tighter, your other hand clutching his elbow. “look at that dog.”

he laughed and followed your gaze across the street to the pom that was nose up, walking beside its owner. “cute.”

“isn’t it?” you sighed. “god, i want a dog. i hate living in a dorm. i hate my roommate.”

“move out, then.”

“and go where? back to my parents’ place?”

he rolled his eyes. “into the apartment you practically live at anyways.”

“dumb, dumber, and dumbest?” you scoffed. “i would kill all three of them in under a week.”

jeonghan wondered which was which, then pushed the temptation to mention his idea of you living with him out of his brain. “sounds like you’re shit outta luck.”

you sighed, craning your neck to steal a look at the dog again. “i guess you’ll just have to get a dog for me.”

he smiled back, eyes lingering on your face even after your gaze went back to the scenery. “i have a question.”

you blinked at him. “yes?”

he watched a cloud for a second. “what do you call me?”

“hannie.”

he laughed. “i mean to your friends.”

you eyed him sideways. “are you trying to trick me into calling you my boyfriend?”

he eyed you back, a smile teasing his lips. “are you admitting that you call me your boyfriend?”

“what do you call me to your friends, then?”

“y/n.”

you rolled your eyes. “you’re the most annoying person i’ve ever met.”

“woooow,” he went, sighing and pulling his hand from yours to shove it in his pocket. “here i was thinking we were in a healthy, mutually respectful relationship.”

you giggled, tugging on his arm. “oh, shut up. we are. you call me by my name, and i call you by yours. that’s as mutually respectful as we can get.”

jeonghan rolled his eyes, but allowed you to pull his hand out of his pocket and put your fingers between his again. he had never been the type to hold hands in public, but with you it felt right. “whatever. it’s only been a month. i’ll break you eventually.”

you exhaled. “if you want me to tell people you’re my boyfriend, you just have to ask.”

“why would i want that?”

you pouted. “i dunno, i thought maybe you liked me or something.”

he squeezed your hand. “don’t flatter yourself.”

you laughed, forcing a smile onto jeonghan’s face, and he didn’t stop you when you changed the subject to the fact that mingyu had informed you that a dissected sheep brain looks a little too close to ssamgyeopsal for comfort.

one day, he told you that he thought you’d be different, back before you started dating. you were gentler than he imagined, despite your continued quick wit and sharp tongue. sweeter.

“i dunno,” he said, leaning back against the couch with your head in his lap. “in my head you would just be mean all the time.”

you didn’t take it as an insult. “the version of me you created in your head is no responsibility of mine.”

jeonghan thought you were beyond incredible. while his original judgement of you being rude, pretentious, and, well, mean hadn’t necessarily been wrong, he had found you to also be incredibly caring, thoughtful, and maybe the funniest person he had ever met. you would sigh about how broke you were that week, how you were sick of eating cup noodles, but you wouldn’t hesitate to spend the last of your budget on soju and kimbap for your friends on your walk to their apartment. you always picked up on his subtle mood changes - when he would press his hands to his temples as he tried to process his literature homework, your hand would sneak onto his thigh and squeeze his knee to remind him to let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, despite your eyes never leaving your own textbook. he swore he never saw jihoon laugh as hard as he did when you and mingyu went off on one of your stupid arguments that only best friends could have, especially after you called mingyu a “grey’s anatomy-worthy harassment claim waiting to happen.”

“seriously, why am i friends with you?” mingyu grabbed his drink from your hand and glared at you when he noticed how much lighter it was (you had said you didn’t want one but definitely stole more than one sip). “can anyone else stand this bitch?”

“i like them,” jeonghan said matter of factly, his chin in his hand and elbow on the table as he stared at you fondly. 

mingyu rolled his eyes. “you don’t count, evil twin.”

jihoon had his back on the floor, hands on his face, still trying to recover from your grey’s anatomy joke, and mingyu’s twin comment only set him off again. you giggled as you watch him roll onto his side, and briefly looked around this new grouping you found yourself in, sat around the low table covered in takeout in jeonghan’s living room. “how come you call me every day, then, dr. hate-my-guts?”

“free therapy,” he said, not missing a beat as he shoved a massive spoonful of rice and meat into his mouth. jihoon coughed, and mingyu narrowly avoided laughing as he chewed.

“i don’t buy it,” jeonghan said, running a hand through his hair and leaning back on the other. he watched you steal from his plate. “i think you like y/n the same reason i do. they’re the first person that didn’t tell you what you wanted to hear just because you’re good looking.”

mingyu kept chewing as he stared at jeonghan, his almost tired gaze going to you before he spoke. “you guys are really made for each other, huh?”

you didn’t think it before, but everyone kept telling you two that, and it definitely served as a pretty good ego boost for the existing confidence in your newfound relationship. you, of course, enjoyed jeonghan’s company even more without the validating eye rolls and gagging noises from friends whenever one of you made some praising comment about the other. you thought he was funny when he was making scathing jokes at his friends’ expense, but you thought he was absolutely hilarious when he was muttering every stupid thought that popped into his head with the specific intention of making you laugh too loud as you laid with him in your bed, his hand rubbing your back, overly aware of the fact that your roommate was trying to study at their desk as you planted your hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter.

as more time passed, jeonghan found it increasingly annoying that you both shared bedrooms with other people, considering how easily you could tease him into a bothered red-eared state with just your words. times that the two of you had gotten yelled at by whoever had to witness to get a damn room, or whispers between drinks that turned into standing too closely at parties, catching each others lips teasingly. disappearing into a bedroom only to be interrupted before anything can happen by some combination of party-goers and friends that somehow always managed to ruin the mood for one or both of you in an extremely targeted way. you had managed to help each other get off, of course, and he loved the look of you sinking to your knees in a bathroom stall, gaze catching his while you unbuckled his belt, or the way you squirmed against him, stuck between a closet door and his hard place, your breath hitching as he dug his fingers deeper into you. both activities were satisfying in their own right, but it would never be enough for him.

then there was that frustrating time jihoon had walked in, catching you with your hand down jeonghan’s pants, and he would never forgive you for the way you hesitated to loosen your grip on him despite the interruption. those few seconds of sheer terror he had felt, making direct eye contact with his roommate with his dick hard and in a hand that wasn’t his, the only thing stopping you from continuing being his annoyed “can you let go, now?" 

he had decided to get back at you, and he got the opportunity a week later, when he had woken up behind you in your bed with your laptop asking if you were still watching and your roommate sleeping only a meter or so away. his lips ghosting across your neck, rousing you from your shallow sleep just to find his hand gently squeezing your hip, running over your mound until you were begging him to slip it under your pajama shorts. he had to put his free hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as you melted under his touch, your toes curling against his shins as the string in you snapped, and you punched his chest when you finally rolled over and caught your breath for getting you so needy when you weren’t alone. he just giggled and looked at you, half lidded, then kissed you like he hadn’t just been muttering voyeuristic filth in your ear.

jihoon was going home for the weekend, and the second jeonghan had found out, he told you you weren’t allowed to make any plans and swapped his saturday shift with a coworker. you had laughed in his face when he told you he intended to keep you in bed the entire weekend, but part of you had been waiting just as much as he had.

on friday night, when the two of you were sitting on the couch watching some documentary that you could barely pay attention to, seungcheol asked again if you guys wanted to go to the bar with him and soonyoung.

"cheol, i swear to god,” jeonghan said, the arm over your shoulder stiffening as he pointed at his roommate. “if you ask one more time, we’re gonna fuck in your bed, and it will be messy.”

seungcheol groaned in disgust as you laughed. “fuck you, jeonghan. i was giving them an out.”

“sorry,” you said, your head leaning back against the arm. “i’ll try to get him to wash the sheets, but no promises.”

“you guys are so fucking gross,” seungcheol said, snatching his wallet off the counter and shoving it in his pocket as soonyoung came out from the bathroom. “we’re leaving before they jump each other. do you have everything? if you forgot something, we’re not coming back,” he said, pointing. “i’m not risking it.”

soonyoung patted all his pockets, nodded, then smiled and waved at you. “see you guys! use protection!”

“don’t take the sixth shot,” you warned, smiling and waving back. soonyoung laughed as he got shoved out the door by his roommate, and when it shut behind him, you felt a chill run up your spine for no good reason.

“we should probably wait a minute,” you said, turning back to jeonghan, who was already leaning into you and letting his gaze flicker unapologetically between your eyes and lips.

“or, and this is just a suggestion, we can decide that we’ve waited long enough and that if they come back after all of that they deserve to see whatever they see,” he pitched, his fingers already brushing against your jaw.

you blinked at him from only a breath away, his honeyed eyes putting a sweet taste in your mouth. you swallowed, your stomach feeling light suddenly. “or that.”

his lips were on yours as soon as the words left them, and your hand rose to grip the front of his shirt - one of the many plain shirts that seemed to rotate around the household. you fidgeted for a second, before deciding you were impatient and pulling away from him only to swing a leg over his and straddle his lap. he grinned at you, hands landing on your thighs, lips excitedly welcoming back yours.

you really enjoyed kissing jeonghan. he always started soft, gentle, with light caresses and reassurances of how beautiful he thought you were. though you never catch him applying any, you know he has a peach flavored lip balm hiding somewhere in his daily routine, and you tasted it on him as you dove a little deeper into him, his hands squeezing at your waist as your tongue dipped past his lips. 

jeonghan also really enjoyed kissing you, which was both good and bad for him. good, of course, because you could happily trap him in liplock for hours, and he never got bored of your soft sighs and adoring touches and wanton noises. bad, though, because his enjoyment becomes incredibly obvious embarrassingly fast, and he wished he could wipe the smirk off your face as soon as you noticed, but he always found himself completely powerless against you when you decided there was something you wanted.

and so, jeonghan’s eyes flicked over your chest as you pulled off your shirt, tossing it to the side as you stood and spun around, planting your hands on his knees and spreading his thighs as you sat back directly on his already straining bulge.

“holy fuck,” he managed, fingers running over the soft fabric of your gray sweatpants before kneading at your ass. you wiggled against his grip before grinding down against him, satisfied by the reaction, loving how clearly you could feel him and the way he sucked in a breath. you made no effort to stifle the noise caused by feeling him against your already dampening core, even through far too many layers. he whipped of his shirt quickly, his hands running up your back, twisting over your waist and pulling your back against his chest. you felt his lips start at your shoulder, then a hand on your chest, then the other snaking down your stomach.

you chuckled lightly. “can’t take a lapdance?”

“from you?” his lips landed behind your ear. “absolutely not. you’ll make me cum, and i have other things i’d like to try first.”

you sighed, rolling your hips as deliberate fingers moved from your stomach to inner thigh. “ever the poet.”

he smirked against your neck. “try it again later. right now, you’re making me insane.”

“mm,” you agreed. “i’ll keep that bookmarked, then.”

“god, how are you this hot?” jeonghan almost laughed. “you’re so annoying, why are you so good at teasing me like this?”

you smirked as his hand ghosted over your core. “yoon jeonghan, you make it incredibly fun to tease you.”

“i refuse to believe that it’s my fault you’re this sexy,” he said, drinking in the way your head dropped to his shoulder and a moan fell from your lips as he ran a finger up your slit. even through fabric, he felt the arousal gathering at your core, making his cock jump against your ass. you smiled, a hand snaking against his scalp, tugging gently at the hair at the base of his skull as he bumped over your clit, his reactionary groan matching yours.

“baby,” you whispered, your breath hot against jeonghan’s lips. “please.”

he licked his lips, tongue almost brushing yours in the process, using his hand on your waist to grind himself against you. “please what, darling?”

“fingers, jeonghan,” you whimpered, arching your back against his chest slightly in hopes to get friction against him, but he stopped his grinding as you did. you huffed. “please, i need you.”

he nudged at your jaw, making you roll your head as he planted his lips on your neck. his fingers undid the drawstring of your sweats to comfortably push under the fabric, and he let out a sigh as he didn’t find another layer.

“you’re evil.”

you giggled, gasping as his fingers quickly ran through your wetness. “and it turns you on.”

you let out a prolonged moan as he pushed his middle finger into you easily, sucking the base of your neck between his teeth. you gripped him, nails surely leaving crescents against his neck as he groaned about how absurdly wet you were, and you said something about how he was in no position to tease when you could feel every time his dick throbbed against you. he asked if you were dirty enough to admit how long you hadn’t been wearing underwear, and he watched you lick your lips before you told him all day. he smirked when you brought your lips to his, moaning against him as he pushed a second finger into you.

his fingers curled deliciously against pressure points, making you gasp as you tightened around them. jeonghan watched your heavy eyelids as you tried to focus on him, he watched your chest rise and fall as it flushed. he brought his free hand up to pinch your already puckered nipple, your temple landing on his cheek in an attempt to hold yourself together.

“i can tell you’re close,” he teased, and you only whined in response, eyes squeezing shut as his palm rubbed at your clit with the gentle movement of his fingers curling in you. “are you gonna cum on my hand, darling?”

you nodded hurriedly, your fingers curling in his hair, then opened your eyes to find his. he smiled at you, which only made you feel as though your world was crumbling. your back arched against his chest again as you came, and he held you by your core as you squeezed at his fingers, lips leaving repeated kisses across your cheek and neck.

despite the orgasm, you couldn’t help but continue to grind down against jeonghan’s hand, and he indulged your neediness by pumping them into you again before slipping his fingers out of you and pushing you forwards. “wallet.”

you groaned, pushing your ass back against him, smiling at the way his hand tensed on your side. “no please?”

he stared at where you were rubbing against his length. “i’m either cumming in a condom or your ass. your choice.”

he gave you a smug look when you turned your head to giggle at him, but his face almost completely dropped when he realized you were considering it.

“okay,” you said. “condom. this time.”

jeonghan’s cock flinched against you again, to which you responded with a wiggle before pushing off him and walking to the kitchen to retrieve a foil packet from his wallet, leaving him staring after you dumbly. when you turned around to walk back towards him, he had shoved his pants over his knees, leaning back heavily as he stroked himself using the hand you had so graciously wet for him. you gulped involuntarily, suddenly aware of how much saliva was gathering around your tongue as you tore open the condom.

he watched you kneel between his knees, his hand stilling at the base of his cock as you lapped a wet line up the underside of it, tongue swirling over his head. he tasted like you, and you had to swallow again before you rolled the condom onto him. you stood, turning your back to him as you hooked your thumbs under the waistband of your sweats and leaned over slightly as you pushed the fabric over your ass. jeonghan’s hand tightened around himself involuntarily, his other going to feel you. squeeze your hip, pinch at the soft flesh. guide you down onto him as you braced yourself on his knee. you pulled at the underside of your thigh, spreading yourself wider as you sat back onto him, sighing as he stretched you out.

“fuck,” he choked out, both hands gripping at your waist to stop you from sinking more. “shit, you feel really good.”

you whined, rolling your hips back in need. “i’ll feel even better if you let me sit.”

he chuckled. “why do you think i stopped you?”

you looked over your shoulder. “two pump chump?”

jeonghan pulled you down onto him harshly, forcing a squeal out of you as you curled over yourself. it had been a long time since anything had been this deep, and you could already feel your release building with one touch of his head to your spot. “shut up.”

“shutting up,” you muttered, voice almost cracking when he held you still and rutted up into you. 

“god, i can’t believe it took us this long,” he said, steadying you with his grip so you could roll your hips on his lap. “to get me in you.”

“m-maybe if your roommate ever went to cl-lass,” you stuttered, beyond pleased that you could finally relieve this frustration as you slowly bounced on his lap. “f-fuck, you feel better than i imagined.”

you could hear the grin on his face when he spoke again, running his fingers up your side. “have i been fucking you in your dreams, baby?”

“well, you sure - mf! - haven’t been fuh-hucking me in real li-” your sentence getting cut off by a whiney moan when his hips bumped up to meet yours. “god, fuck, jeonghan!”

he pulled himself off the couch, pressing his chest against your back. he pushed up into you, almost desperately, his teeth running across your shoulder as much as his lips did. you gasped, leaning back into him, spreading your legs until your knees hooked on the outside of his, his unrelenting fingers finding your clit, just to make you beg as he pumped in and out of you.

“please what, baby?” he asked sweetly, despite the hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and the way his eyebrows knit together.

“p-please, can i cum again?”

jeonghan groaned, almost taken aback by your complete switch in attitude. while he knew you liked it when he tried to take control, he had never seen you go down without a fight. “who knew all you needed to stop being such a brat was my cock?”

“p-please, h-hannie…” you whimpered, and he could feel your walls constricting around him. “please, i wanna cum.”

desperation became obvious in his own hips, just by taking in your face. he had gone into this with every intention of milking you of everything you had, but he was man enough to admit that your begging made him too close to cumming to stop. “get my dick wet, darling.”

your mouth gaped in a silent cry as you crumpled into his chest, your legs twitching inwards as he moved his hands to your hips and continued thrusting up into you, your walls squeezing him tight until he let out a low groan, slowing his movement until he eventually stilled completely.

the two of you stayed there, a sweaty, entangled mess on the couch, both just trying to catch your breath.

“fuck,” you said finally, and jeonghan thought he couldn’t have said it better himself.

after two packets of slightly overcooked ramen, a conversation about how leaving a used condom on cheol’s bed would not be a funny prank, and a generous spray of febreze fabric refresher, jeonghan watched proudly as you walked with a slight unintentional wobble towards his bedroom, assuring you he’d be right there as he rinsed out your bowls in the sink.

when he did finally join you, you were laying on his bed with your phone to your ear, and he crawled up over you as you giggled into the phone, knees spreading to accommodate. “hannie’s. i told you, i’m staying here for the weekend.”

jeonghan could hear mingyu’s voice on the other end, saying something about how he thought it was next weekend for some reason and that getting laid would be good for you, but he just smiled as he kissed at your neck, your free arm settling around him comfortably.

“why are you calling this late?” you asked, looking over at jeonghan’s bedside to confirm the time. “are you guys going out?”

“yeah, of course. rockbox in an hour. you guys in?”

you tipped your head to the side as jeonghan continued his gentle kisses up your neck, hands running up under your shirt, making you sigh softly. “nah, we have plans. cheol and soonyoung are there, though.”

“okay, no worries,” mingyu said, then paused. jeonghan took the opportunity to bite just below your jaw, gently rolling his hips between your thighs to make you aware of what he was thinking. “are you busy right now, or can you talk?”

a pang of guilt ran through you as you held your breath, trying to not audibly react to the movement against you. you hadn’t been able to sit and chat with your best friend in way too long. “i’m, uh, a little busy? maybe we could get lunch tomorrow?”

jeonghan pulled back and glared at you, a stark reminder that he had asked you to not make plans, but you just put a finger to his pouting lips.

“as long as it’s after noon, i’m down.”

“okay,” you said, brushing your fingers across jeonghan’s cheek and pushing his hair behind an ear. “one? two? stew?”

“one’s good,” mingyu said, his voice sing songy. “okay, i’m gonna get ready. have fun! use protection.”

you rolled your eyes. “everyone keeps saying that.”

“yeah, because you guys are crazy and no one wants to risk it.”

after your byes, you hung up and looked at jeonghan, who was still staring at you with disdain. you sighed. “it’s just lunch.”

“i said no plans,” he reminded you, pouting. “now we have to go get lunch with mingyu when i could be fucking you stupid in my roommateless bedroom.”

“no we don’t,” you said, running your hands through his hair. “i have to get lunch with mingyu. you can do whatever you want.”

“oh, so i’m not even invited?” his eyebrows raised at you. “you do realize i switched a shift so i could spend all day with you, right?”

you giggled. “hannie, i would love to spend all day with you, but i haven’t sat and gotten lunch with mingyu in a month. i miss my best friend.”

he groaned, burying his face in your neck. “stop making sense, i’m trying to be mad at you.”

“you can still be mad,” you said, your fingers softly massaging against the back of his neck. “i like it when you think you’re punishing me.”

he groaned again, hating how you could so easily say the perfect thing to make him forget about anything else. “you’re evil.”

you giggled. “and it turns you on.”

he adjusted against you, trying to ignore his increasing arousal despite his original intentions. “sometimes, you seem like my own personal demon.”

“oh, fun,” you vocalised, brushing your fingers knowingly through the hair behind his ear, triggering a huff as you hit your favorite soft spot of his. “two demons trying to torture each other.”

he laughed as he raised his head, propping it up with a hand. “would you consider this torture?”

“maybe for normal people,” you said, sneaking a kiss onto his lips. “but we’re demons, remember? this is fun for us.”

his lips pouted, less to make a point and more because it was their comfortable, natural state after your lips leave. “i think i like you a lot.”

your face burned. it wasn’t the first time he had said something to that effect, but it made your chest feel funny nonetheless. “that’s reassuring.”

“i’m serious,” he said. “i really like you. and i don’t like people.”

you smiled softly. “i like you, too, yoon jeonghan.”

he adjusted his elbows on either side of you. “i want to be your boyfriend.”

you stared at him. “nah.”

“aye,” he cocked his head, making you laugh. “you said all i had to do was ask!”

“i’m kidding,” you said, putting your hands on either side of his face, pushing his cheeks in. “do you want to meet my parents, too?”

he looked at the wall behind his bed. “maybe that can wait.”

giggling, you pulled him into a kiss. “okay, boyfriend.”

the smile on his lips lingered as you kissed him, and he decided it was time to make sure everyone knew you were officially taken.

“you could have worn a scarf.”

you rolled your eyes, pulling the hood of the sweatshirt you stole from jeonghan’s in an attempt to hide the purple marks on your neck over your head. “it’s not my fault he tried to kill me,” you said, tugging on the drawstrings. “how was rockbox?”

“good,” mingyu said, leaning back. “weird. vernon ended up on stage.”

you almost choked on your water. “and i missed it?”

he laughed, then pulled out his phone to show you a video. “seungkwan made him do the features on a beyoncé song. he killed it, though.”

you watched the shaky vertical video of vernon on stage with a boy you knew but never really spoke to, watching in disbelief and laughing at mingyu’s hollering in the background. “wow. bey seungkwan and jay-v. that’s pretty legendary. i can’t believe i wasn’t there.”

mingyu laughed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “how was your night? productive, obviously,” he said, gesturing to your neck.

“good,” you said reflexively, then exhaled as you looked at your best friend. “like, really good.”

“okay, spare the details, but like,” mingyu tipped his head and looked at you through his lashes. “good good?”

“mingyu, you know i would never say this lightly,” you put your hands on the table. “the best. seriously. man has a surprising amount of stamina for how much he naps.”

“damn,” he sighed and looked away from you. “y'know, that makes sense. i’ve always heard he was good in bed, and you two have some insane chemistry.”

you spotted the waiter coming, and before they were in earshot, you hurriedly said “plus his dick is huge.”

“oh, my god,” mingyu reeled back, then realized what you had done as the waiter put side dishes on your table. as soon as they left, he glared at you. “why are you like this.”

you grinned. “you were curious, though, right?”

he squinted at you. “doesn’t mean you should just offer up the info.”

“when’s the last time i slept with someone?” you asked. “like, really. it’s been, like, almost a year since i hooked up with rubin.”

his brows ruffled as he thought. “damn, is that true? has it really been that long?”

“let me brag,” you pleaded. “please? he’s so hot, i’m gonna lose my mind if you don’t let me talk about it.”

“i don’t know if i can be friends with you anymore.”

“dude, he spit in my mouth this morning.”

“oh-kay, so you’re buying lunch,” mingyu said, sitting up suddenly. “damn, this morning? have you guys just been going at it like rabbits?”

“i don’t wanna hear it,” you said, pointing at him. “you had to tell me about every guy you hooked up with during your 'hoe-liday’ last winter, you can listen to me talk about a guy i’ve been seeing for almost two months.”

“fair enough,” he laughed. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you like this.”

you groaned, sinking your head to the table. “it sucks.”

he stared at you. “oh my god, his dick made you fall in love.”

“shut up,” you said, lifting your head to land your chin on the table, curling a paper napkin over your spoon. you pouted as you tried to come up with an argument, but failed. “he’s sweet.”

“he’s mean,” mingyu corrected. “but he’s sweet to you.

"and dogs,” you defended. “and kids.”

“oh, so he’s husband material all of a sudden?”

you shrugged. “i’ve dated people much less likeable than yoon jeonghan.”

mingyu sighed, eating some kimchi. “that’s true. we both have.”

“yeah, so stop making fun of me, asshole,” your eyebrows creased as you leaned back and crossed your arms. “try being happy for me for a change. didn’t you want this all along? trying to get me to ask him out?”

“i am happy for you,” mingyu said, showing some genuinity as he laughed, also leaning back as your food arrived. “you just make it really hard sometimes.”

mingyu had the courtesy of dropping you off back at jeonghan’s so he didn’t have to borrow seungcheol’s car to come get you, and as he pulled up to the familiar apartment building, he gave you his usual “say hi to your boyfriend for me,” as he put it in park, quickly checking his phone.

instead of your normal “not my boyfriend,” you looked over at your best friend and bit your cheek. “sure.”

mingyu’s neck nearly snapped to look at you. “wait, what?”

you giggled. “sure, i’ll say hi for you.”

“did you-” he started, then stuttered, trying to figure out what he was asking. “are you guys, like-”

“he asked,” you said shrugging. “i said yes.”

a grin spread across his face. “really?”

“well, actually, i said no. then i said okay.”

mingyu laughed. “yeah that sounds right. wow, y/n got a boyfriend.”

you rolled your eyes, pulling the hood further over your head to hide your involuntarily hot ears as you adjusted to open the car door. “bye, goo.”

“this is my best friend,” he said loudly, making you stare at him with wide eyes as some innocent bystander walked past the car, all while you tried to pull yourself out of the door. “beautiful, right? sorry though, they’re taken, i’m dropping them off to see their brand new boyfriend.”

“you’re embarrassing,” you said, pointing an annoyed finger, grateful the person only looked back once before continuing. “go home.”

“you have done ten times worse to me,” mingyu said, grinning from ear to ear. “have fun with the pretentious asshole that can’t make an americano right, yoon jeonghan!”

that made you laugh despite yourself, and you shot him several expletives before slamming his door shut and running up the stairs.

after punching in the door code that no one had told you but you had seen enough times to know, you announced that you had returned. seeing jihoon’s chair empty on a saturday was strange, but at least seungcheol and soonyoung were up to their usual antics of playing some game extremely poorly.

you stood and watched the screen for a moment. “you know you can catch the arrows, right?”

soonyoung looked at you. “you can catch the arrows?”

seungcheol groaned. “why would you tell him that? i’m actually winning for once!”

you giggled. “if you dodge when the arrows are coming, you catch them.”

“you can dodge?”

from the other room, you heard a muted “hurry up,” and you saluted to the boys as they argued, following your cue to exit the situation.

jeonghan was on his bed when you shut the door behind you. “what are they yelling about?”

you sighed as you walked over to him. “apparently soonyoung didn’t know you could dodge in towerfall.”

he watched you pull off the sweatshirt - the same one he had worn on your first kinda date - to admire the marks he had left on you, then blinked when he realized what you had said. “we play that game all the time, how did he not know?”

you shrugged, then crawled into his waiting arms. “he’s not very observant.”

you sighed as you settled against jeonghan, and he kissed the top of your head. “how was lunch?”

“good,” you said, smiling. “gyu is good. it was nice to catch up.”

jeonghan clicked his tongue. “you guys talk every day.”

“okay, yeah, but,” you adjusted to look at him. “talking on the phone and hanging out with other people is different. we can’t talk about the same stuff.”

“well, what’d you talk about?”

you smiled. “wouldn’t you like to know?”

he squinted at you. “aren’t we supposed to be a team now? no secrets?”

“okay,” you said, fixing his bangs. “what were you and seungcheol talking about in his room yesterday before i got here?”

jeonghan couldn’t help the tiny smile that worked its way into his face. “did soonyoung tell you?”

“i would never reveal my source,” you said triumphantly, knowing it couldn’t have been anyone else, considering jihoon had already left. “also, he was pissed that you kicked him out while he was still sleeping.”

“if i could have just dragged cheol into my room, i would have,” he sighed. “trust me. i can pull soonyoung out of bed, but seungcheol is dense.”

you inspected his lips a moment. “were you talking about me?”

“uh,” jeonghan adjusted under you, putting a hand behind his head. “no, not really. soonyoung got a job, and me and cheol are both working more now. i wanted to talk about getting a bigger place, since our lease ends in the summer.”

you vocalised excitedly. “does this mean you’d get your own room?”

“that’s the idea, yeah,” he said, grinning. “you could stay over more.” and while he hadn’t lied - they had discussed larger apartment options, and decided to start looking by the end of the month - he failed to mention that the main purpose of him isolating seungcheol was to confirm he was crazy for wanting you to join them if they did move.

“i mean,” cheol had said, barely propping himself up in bed. “it might be a bit too early to tell, but you guys seem like the real deal.”

jeonghan spun in soonyoung’s desk chair, arms crossed. “but i’m insane, right? like, we haven’t even slept together.”

“they’re coming over for the weekend, yeah?”

“yeah.”

“so let’s talk about it again on monday?”

jeonghan kneaded at his jaw, exhaling. “yeah, okay.”

now, you had slept together. not only that, but you slept together, all night, in the same bed, and jeonghan woke up with jumbled poetry in his head when he found you curled up by his side. despite living in this apartment for nearly a year, it felt most like home with you in it. 

and he had told seungcheol, when he got home from dropping you off for lunch, that he was pretty damn sure he wanted to wake up like that every morning.

he wondered how you would react, if you would want to take the leap and move in with him. part of him felt as though he was taking advantage of your situation for his own selfish want to have you around all the time - you would do literally anything to avoid being in a dorm next year, but your housing budget wouldn’t accommodate for anything more than a goshiwon. while that wasn’t the worst option, you always talked about how much you missed living in a normal space, with a stove. a full sized fridge. a real bathroom, instead of a cramped wetroom. if he were to ask you to live with him, you would likely say yes, but would that put too much strain on your relationship too early? or would you think he was moving too fast and say no? his mind whirred silently as you buried your face in his neck.

“what’s on your mind?”

jeonghan blinked. “nothing.”

“liar.”

he sighed. “you.”

you lifted your head. “am i what’s making your heart beat so fast?”

he hadn’t even realized his pulse had quickened. he swallowed, briefly wondering if he would ever be able to truly hide anything from you. “maybe. what did you and mingyu talk about?”

you laughed. “i was hoping you would forget.”

“i never forget.”

“we talked about a lot,” you said, fiddling with the collar of jeonghan’s tee. “classes, summer plans, boys…”

he raised his brow at the last subject. “boys, huh?”

you smirked at him playfully. “yeah, our waiter was cute.”

he scoffed in your face and you giggled, then flattened his shirt against his chest.

“we talked about you. i told him we were official.”

“how’d that go?”

“he made fun of me, but it’s fine because i told him you have a big dick.”

jeonghan’s hand went from behind his head to cover his eyes, letting out a half-groan and half-“really?”, but the smile on his lips told you he wasn’t mad. “why? why would you tell him that?”

“he’s my best friend!” you laughed.

“okay, why did you tell me that?”

“i’d thought you’d like to know,” you said, pouting slightly. “he might respect you now.”

he uncovered his face just so you could see him rolling his eyes before he tried to sit up. “okay, no more cuddling.”

you whined, trying to keep him in place, but failing. “but i just got here!”

“maybe you shouldn’t have left in the first place,” he teased, getting out of bed to turn off the air purifier he usually only ran at night, but had been too preoccupied to turn off that morning. “i told you i intended to keep you in bed all weekend, but you didn’t care.”

“i’m here now,” you pouted. “in your bed.”

“take a nap, then,” jeonghan said. “i’m gonna eat.”

you groaned. “you didn’t eat while i was gone?”

“too busy pouting in bed. your turn.”

you floundered and whined childishly for a moment as he laughed at you, leaving the room without another word. sometimes you hated how similar you two were, but only because it made you completely aware of just how annoying you were.

when jeonghan returned, you had completely passed out, holding his pillow under your head as you laid on your stomach. he smirked in the direction of the sleeping body and fiddled with a few things - closing the closet door, throwing a rogue shirt into his hamper, etc. - before making his way to the bed to join you.

his touch was gentle. enough to rouse but not frighten. you squirmed slightly, recognizing the way his hand dipped into even the most subtle curves of your body as you laid out comfortably. you gave a noise of approval when it ran over your ass, squeezing slightly. jeonghan smirked again, and you turned under his arm to face him, a soft smile on your lips.

“g'morning.”

“it’s four in the afternoon,” he corrected.

you sighed. “and it’s a good morning.”

“sure is, babe,” he drawled, smiling as you planted a smooch. his hand ran unhurriedly up your back, under your shirt.

you hummed. “are you really horny again?”

“listen,” he mumbled, almost laughing. “i just want to get of much of you as i can, while i can.”

you supposed that was as good a reason as any as you kissed him again, only for him to pull away and straddle the backs of your thighs. he pushed the balls of his palms into your lower back on either side of your spine, and you let out a low moan. jeonghan did this on occasion, treat you to a back rub. he claimed it was because you had the worst posture he had ever seen, but you knew it was an excuse to get his hands all over you, and you couldn’t hide how much you enjoyed it. you adjusted to lay straighter, burying your face in the pillow when he hit a particularly evil knot and had to dig it out with a thumb. you groaned as his hands travelled up your back, sliding the shirt up as he massaged into your shoulders. you sighed as you got up on your elbows and ripped off the shirt, tossing it somewhere on the floor, exposing your full back to him, your shoulders and neck littered in his marks. he admired them, even planted small kisses atop a few, then worked his way down your back, curving his hands over your ass.

you muttered a quiet thank you, and he smiled, giving you a succinct “of course” in response. he moved down to your legs, thumbs sneaking in your inner thighs and subtly spreading you out despite your pants. you hummed, pushing your hips to meet his touch, encouraging him to knead at your cheeks.

“have i ever told you you have a great ass?”

you giggled. “it’s average at best.”

“uh, no,” he said, voice pitched upwards in a teasing manner. “i think i’m a really great judge in asses and yours is fantastic.”

“yeah?” you peeked over your shoulder. “what’s so fantastic about it?”

jeonghan’s fingers dug into it, eyes shooting up to meet yours. “well, for starters, it’s connected to you.”

he ran a thumb over your crease, making you let out a small noise in response, and you buried your face in the pillow again. “shut up.”

he smirked against your shoulder, hands running up your back again and one landing on the mattress beside you as he pushed his hips against your ass. “yes, boss.”

you sighed, arching your back to get as much friction as you could while he ground his hard member against you. he sucked at your neck, and your hands dug helplessly into his hair as you whined.

“are we teenagers?” you asked, huffing. “do we have to dry hump or can we fuck like adults?”

jeonghan laughed as he lifted his mouth to ghost over yours. “impatient. if you were better, you would have asked for my cock nicely.”

“better,” you repeated, hating the way a hard wave of arousal washed over you, suddenly wakening your senses like it was from the pacific. “for you?”

the tip of his tongue barely swiped at your lips, your jaw twitching slightly in reaction. “you gonna be good?”

you tried to focus on him, your blown out eyes flickering hopelessly to his lips. “i-i can try.”

and with that, jeonghan yanked your pants over your hips and down your thighs, scooting them down as you hiked your ass up slightly, hoping to tempt him as efficiently as possible. his hands found your ass again, spreading you out as you groaned. “look at you, soaking.”

you bit your lip, making a pathetic noise into the pillow to avoid talking back. “please, jeonghan.”

two fingers ran over you, and you tried to muffle your moan as best you could as your hips moved involuntarily, pushing into his fingers. he smirked down at you, wondering how far he could take you as he messily spread your arousal. “bet you could take two right now.”

“yes,” you said, gasping slightly. “please, hannie, please, i can take it.”

he pushed two fingers into you, barely even scissoring them before pushing in a third, making you bury your face in his pillow as you groaned. “i’ve been fucking you good, huh?”

you nodded frantically, pushing against his hand as steadily as you could. he noted your neediness, and indulged you by thrusting his fingers into you until you were whining rhythmically to his pace. he pulled a finger out, then another, and you instinctively threw a hand back to catch him before he pulled away completely. he laughed lightly, his hand easily overpowering yours and pressing a kiss against your shoulder blade.

“sorry, were you close?”

you exhaled sharply. “that was so mean.”

“i’ll make it up to you,” he said, pulling your hips further off the bed and pushing you further apart. he licked a wide stripe up your core, and you moaned deeply into the pillow, gripping it with all your power as his tongue expertly ran over your clit. “you taste incredible.”

you panted as you turned your head. “i thought you just ate.”

“i have a separate dessert stomach.”

your thighs buzzed and gut fluttered, and you wondered how he always managed to make you weak in the knees, even when his tongue was buried in you. it wasn’t long before you were gripping at his wrist, knuckles white, quaking as his lips guided you through your orgasm, and he lapped at your release, licking wet stripes up your inner thighs as well.

when he backed away, you exhaled again. “jeonghan-”

“what?” he asked, pushing his own pants down his thighs. he stood to drop them to the floor before straddling you again, pulling your hips back against him. “is this what you want?”

your hand found his thigh, urging him towards you. he rubbed the head of his cock, already shiny and scarlet, against your core, and you practically begged on the spot. suddenly, he pushed you into the mattress, pushing his hips against yours but fucking into your thighs. you whimpered, his cock rubbing against you absolutely deliciously, but not at all what you were expecting. he groaned into your neck, snaking a hand up under you.

“god, you’re so wet, i almost don’t even need to fuck your pussy.”

you yelped when his fingers found a nipple and pinched. “h-hannie, please-”

“please, what?”

you squirmed. “please fuck me.”

he looked at you. “you get one more try.”

for a moment, you looked back at him and your mind went blank. “please, hannie, i need your cock.”

he smiled. “was that so hard?” his tone and kisses were sweet, but completely mismatched the frustration bubbling in you as he pulled back, making you moan again as the head bumped over your clit. “do you trust me?”

“yes, baby, please just fuck me before i scream.”

with one hand on his cock, he guided himself into you, a moan tumbling from his lips as he felt you completely unsheathed for the first time. you gripped the pillow in a tighter fist as he filled you out, and it took all your concentration to not squeal in a way that absolutely would have been heard by the entire apartment. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you back onto him as he fucked into you. as you adjusted to him, you began to curse the fact that this was only temporary - you would have to go back to unreliably private quickies in a few short days - and you suddenly got the urge to really savor the way jeonghan’s cock felt in you.

he leaned over you, changing the angle ever so slightly and just enough to make you cry out, and he put a palm at the base of your neck, wrapping his fingers around it slightly as he pushed you into his pillow. “i could fuck you raw forever.”

you tried to catch your breath to respond. “i would let you.”

you internally celebrated the low groan that escaped him, and the way his hips pushed impossibly further into you. externally, you rewarded the movement with a matching moan, though you slapped a hand over your mouth when you heard the game pause in the other room.

“don’t want them to hear you, baby?”

you whimpered into your hand as jeonghan kissed a line up the side of your neck, steadily rolling into you.

“can’t even talk?”

you shakily pulled your hand away from your mouth, trying to stifle your noises with just your will. “cheol already hates me.”

“he doesn’t hate you,” he said, his voice getting slightly more labored as he continued his pace. “i bet he’d love to hear your pretty moans.”

you clamped your hand over your mouth again, resisting jeonghan’s luring the best you could. he smiled against the hollow of your ear, nipping at it slightly.

“i know you want to, baby. just let it out.”

as he spoke, he shifted his hips, making you let out a high toned moan that was barely muted by your palm, and you buried your face in the pillow to avoid jeonghan’s shiteating grin.

“i love the way you sound when i’m fucking you,” he said, his voice never raising above his lowest register. his ability to keep his cool as you were utterly falling apart was perhaps simultaneously the most aggravating and sexiest part of the whole affair. “and you always back up against me like a bitch in heat.”

you reached back for a hand, but he swiftly grabbed your wrist to push it against your lower back. your chest heaved, and you hurriedly added your other wrist to his grip. with one hand restricting your arms and the other pulling your hip back against his, he licked his lips at the sight.

“i’m going to wreck you,” he panted. “i’m going to make you forget anyone you ever fucked before me.”

you let out harsh breaths as your chest pushed into the mattress. “already have,” you managed, peeking best you could over yout shoulder to the glorious view behind you. you enjoyed the way his tongue shot out between his lips, the way he watched his cock fill you tightly. you even liked the way his hair flopped over his eyes, even if you thought he was in need of a haircut. but you especially liked that he looked like he got lost in you. like he would never want anything but you.

you came fast and hard, squeezing him temptingly as you whined into the pillow. with that, he pulled out and rolled you over, fingers hooking at your pants to pull them off completely. you bicycle kicked to help him, then practically pulled him into you as his lips crashed into yours, hands pulling you as close as he could while you both repositioned your bodies. your hand went down to position him at your entrance again, and you gasped into his mouth when he slid into you again. his teeth tugged at your bottom lip, one hand gently massaging the back of your neck as you whimpered against him.

“you’re being so good for me,” he muttered, purposefully brushing his lips against yours with every syllable. “have i finally tamed you?”

your legs wrapped around his waist. “no chance in hell.”

he grinned, letting you pull him into more sloppy kisses as he steadily pulled another orgasm from you, and you couldn’t help but want him to cum with you. his eyebrows knit as your hands dug into the hair at the base of his head, eyes barely focusing on your lips as you begged for him to cum in you.

“you’re evil.”

you could barely smile. “and you love it.”

you choked slightly, body edging into overstimulation as you came again, and jeonghan pushed up off of you to better chase his own high. he pumped into you, hard and rough, for a few more seconds before you felt suddenly empty and he was shooting hot ribbons of cum up stomach and chest.

you bit back a moan, arching your back slightly as he stared down at your chest, leaning down to lick his cum off your nipple. you gripped his hair again, squirming as he sucked lightly, lapping more cum towards the peak. you tugged at his roots slightly, pulling him up to kiss you before he got you hot and bothered again when you weren’t sure you could handle more. 

“i can’t believe you pulled out.”

jeonghan laughed in your face. “i asked if you trusted me.”

you pouted. “i thought that meant you were going to choke me out.”

he kissed you again after a short chuckle, then sat up to grab tissues. “maybe next time.”

he didn’t say it like it was a promise, but he kept it like it was one.

and when your weekend of nonstop bedroom antics was over, you admittedly had fulfilled yourselves enough that the following privacy draught was almost bearable. sure, jeonghan asked you a couple times to come sit on his lap while he worked on lab reflections, and yes, it was much less innocent than one would think, but the two of you managed to keep unfortunate walkins to a minimum, which was only made possible by finally getting it out of your system.

also because you decided your thursday 7:30 was barely worth it most weeks, and jeonghan was always happy to run over to your dorm to fool around for a few hours while your roommate was in class.

[daddynegandesires]

Till Death Do Us Part

(Short story)

Summary: negan kills your husband due to a miscommunication at the sanctuary and now you want revenge.

Warning: Death, depression, fighting, threats, swearing

18+

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You were in your room when you heard loud commotion going on out in the main hall. You quicky slipped on your black boots and rushed out to see a crowd of people. Pushing through them your air got caught in your throat when you noticed your husband kneeling on the ground before negan.

"W..whats going on!!??" You panicked

"Baby...please get back" your husband said looking up at you with tear filled eyes

"No...no this isnt right! He would never do anything wrong!

"Maybe....you dont know your husband as well as you thought" negan flexes his jaw

"Dont fucking tell me what i dont know about ky fucking husband!" Stomping up to negan getting in his face

His chest was puffed out with a god awful dirty grin on his face staring down at you.

"D....get her" he motions for simon to come get you away from him

"No!...no dont fucking touch me" you began kickng and screaming as Dwight grabbed you.

You were crying as negan walked closer to your husband whos head was down with his hands tied behind his back looking defeated. Negan looked back at you as dwight held onto you tightly not letting go. Your husband took one last look at you mouthing "i love you" before his skull was cracked open by one good swing on negans bat blood was now splattered all over the ground below you, you couldnt bare to watch your husband slowly dieing infront of you and there was nothing you could do about it but scream out and beg for it to end. Your husband took his last breath before he fell lifeless on the ground infront of everyone in the sanctuary.

"You fucking bastard....." You cried out falling to your knees as Dwight let his grip off of you

"Rules are rules....princess" negan strolled past you into his corridor

You lay on the floor sobbing as everyone around you walks away seeing the guards gather up the remains of your husband and put him on the fence to be walker bait. Weeks have passed by and youve kept a close eye on negan studying him and his actions you know his every move without having to look. Negan has slowly been catching onto you watching him with these passing weeks his guards have also been keeping tabs on you just incase you decide to...snap.

You had decided to go out on a run with negan and dwight when we arrived at our destination. Dwight got out first to go scope out the premises while you sat in the backseat of the truck and negan sat in the drivers seat. Shaking and sweating you slowly slid the blade out of your boot hoping he wouldnt notice. In one quick motion you griped onto his hair holding his head back against the seat while placing the blade agaisnt his neck with your free hand.

"Move. And you are dead." You whisper to him

"I knew you'd come around dollface" a grin grows on his face letting out a chuckle

"Drive.....now" you demanded

Negan still just sat there frozen

"Look....maybe we can settle this problem in a different way" he bites his lip

"Fucking drive!" You yanked back on his hair harder which only caused him to groan out in pleasure

Negan slowly turned the truck on putting it in drive you let go of his hair and pulled out a black handgun pointing it to his head as you slithered up to the passenger seat waiting for your destination. Your eyes never left him and his prized posession Lucille the truck came to a halt as you noticed a herd of walkers about a half mile ahead and the road was coming to a dead end as you saw a cliff that ended the road.

"Get out" you motioned with the gun

Negan sat looking straight ahead.

"If you dont get out im going to blow your fucking brains out" you shoved the gun into his temple

You quickly snatched Lucille watching him get out and stand infront of the truck as you hopped out of the passenger side meeting him.

"Please....dont hurt her" he quietly said over the moans of the walkers in the distance

"Her!??....your bat is a she" you swung it over your shoulder

"Please...dont"

"I see...this is your weakness...without this bat you are nothing" you said pacing around him

"It was my wifes name....lucille" he looked at the ground

"Awe love...it..HURTS" you spat at him

"Dont. Hurt. Her." He says through gritted teeth

"Kneel...now" you demanded pointing the bat at him

Negan slowly nealt to the ground swallowing hard you noticed how quick his attitude changed.

"You never gave my husband a chance so why would i give you one? Hm!?" Shoving the bat into his back

"Please...it was a misunderstanding" he cried out

"A misunderstanding....you are so fucking full of shit. My husband was a good man!" You swung thr bat against his back causing him to double over

"He didnt deserve what you did!" Now swining the bat across his chest making his fall back

"And now....its your turn to feel what i feel"

leaning down face to face you pull out a match and rip off a peice of your shirt wrapping it around lucille lighting it till a flame starts to burn.

"Noo!!!" Negan yells out

You stand up pressing your foot down into his chest feeling him start to cry and lucille bursts into flames. You throw the bat into the herd of walkers that are slowly inching towards you. Seeing negan now in tears beneath you, you step off of him givinf him one last look.

"What do they say?...oh yeah.. Till Death Do Us Part".

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[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober 2021 - October 7th - Blindness

Gift fic for @sassydefendorflower

Fandom: Nightwing, Batman - All Media Types

AO3

Warnings: Head Injury, slight descriptions of blood

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Slade dodges under the swinging blow of Blüdhaven’s newest sewer monster; born from whatever chemicals a rat has gotten into near some chemist-based super-villain’s old hideout. Now, while it’s not everyday Slade goes out of his way to take down various monsters across the ‘Haven, this time… he feels a little obligated to.

Yes, he is the reigning champion of being Nightwing’s least favorite and most powerful villain, but unfortunately Nightwing is Slade’s favorite and most interesting opponent. He came to the ‘Haven to give the kid a head’s up that he has a mark in the city; a regular challenge he likes to set for the kid to try and stop him. However, when he didn’t find Nightwing along any of his normal routes, nor in his apartment, he turned to the news to see if the kid had left for Gotham or some other city without him noticing; preparing to postpone this mark until he was back in his patron city and away from other bats.

It was then he noticed the breaking news that a giant, sewage themed rat was wreaking havoc under Blüdhaven’s streets in the downtown areas, near a major subway platform. Nightwing was spotted going in, telling people to stay out, and he hasn’t been seen since.

Of course, Slade went to the fight, and it’s a good thing he did. When he got there, he found Nightwing limp in the creature’s tail, held inches from it’s long and jagged front teeth. Blood trailed down the side of his skull in a steady flow. Slade knew immediately he was unconscious.

He took out one of his pistols and shot at the rat, but the monster was so large and feral it hardly did anything when it went into its arm. It dropped Nightwing like a sack of flour onto the ground, snarling as it turned to it’s newest threat, drool dripping down it’s snout. Slade pulled out his swords and faced it head on.

The creature, while lacking any intelligence, was fast and powerful. Even Slade had trouble ducking under its tail that it used like a club and avoiding its powerful legs and jaw. While it’s disappointing to see Nightwing taken down by a creature as low as this, he can’t exactly blame the kid when it takes himself several minutes to finally get his sword through the thing’s tail. He cuts off the appendage, then while the monster screeches in agony, he pierces its throat.

It goes down twitching and gurgling, its blood bubbling down into the sewer's already questionable streams of water. He whips his swords out, getting off a majority of the wretched blood, then heads over to his unconscious person of interest.

Nightwing doesn’t move as he kneels down beside him, in fact he’s still in the rather undignified position he had been dropped in. Frowning, Slade moves Nightwing into a better position that won't strain his spine and smacks his face lightly to wake him up. He doesn’t even twitch, causing Slade to frown more. His head is still bleeding, which is worrisome. He grabs a tube of smelling-salts from his pouch—usually used to wake up people he’s previously knocked out to get some information out of them—and firmly places it under Nightwing’s nose. A solid few seconds pass before Nightwing’s eyes shoot open under his domino mask; his hands fly out to his face to stifle coughs and he rocks forward so he’s sitting instead of laying down.

Slade doesn’t try to make conversation quite yet, more worried about that head injury. He holds Nightwing by the jaw to tilt his head and get a better look, but Nightwing reacts like the touch was electrified. He smacks Slade’s arms away and jumps to his feet, stumbling back and holding out a single escrima. Slade doesn’t know where the other one went.

“Sit back down,” Slade growls, “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Nightwing flinches at the initial sound of his voice, his mouth dropping open in shock before lowering his single weapon slightly.

“Slade?” he asks, his voice slurred.

Slade resists sighing, and lifts his eyebrow. Who else would it be? It’s not that dark here, even with Slade’s heightened senses. Nightwing doesn’t relax completely though, as if waiting for an answer. Not for the first time that night, another spike of worry rises in his chest.

“Kid, sit down or I’ll make you sit down.”

Nightwing almost goes boneless after that, breathing a single ”thank fuck” before sinking to his ass and putting his head in his hands with a groan.

Now Slade does sigh, even rolling his eyes as he does so, as he once again approaches Nightwing and grabs onto his face to look at the wound. Nightwing hisses and flinches out of his grasp.

“Don’t,” he says, “I already know how bad it is.”

Slade hums, folding his arms across his chest. “How bad is it then?”

Nightwing remains quiet for a moment, biting his lip, perhaps internally fighting with himself on whether or not it’s a good idea to tell one of his biggest enemies about how injured he is. Eventually, Nightwing makes the smart choice and speaks anyway, knowing Slade will find no pleasure in ending him if he's already down.

“Head feels like a war-drum. Feel like ‘m gonna throw up. Voice slurred… ears ringing… I-” Nightwing hesitates. Then sighs. “I can’t see.”

“You can’t see?” Slade repeats, kneeling down to once again take Nightwing’s face in his hands. Nightwing fights the grasp, but this time Slade holds strong and takes off the mask, revealing unfocused electric-blues.

“Nothing, it’s all black,” Nightwing whispers, a slight wobble in his voice that Slade is sure he’s trying to keep down.

He grabs a small flashlight from his tools and shines it in Nightwing’s eyes, frowning as there’s hardly any reaction in the pupils. He clicks off the light and releases Nightwing, thinking of options.

He’s sure the last thing the kid’ll want is to get dumped at the hospital, but Slade’s no medical expert, especially with something as fragile as a normal human’s brain.

He sighs, as only one option realistically reveals itself. The last thing Slade wants to do is risk Nightwing going home all on his own and possibly making this blindness permanent when there could be something that can be done to help him. Nightwing is a competent, talented young man, which is why he’s so intriguing to Slade—and while he has all the faith that Nightwing will find a way to fight even if his sight is forever gone, Slade also knows the loss of sense will be a major blow to the kid’s moral for months to come. He’s seen how far Nightwing can fall with helplessness and depression plaguing him, and honestly the thrill of fighting him leaves when his fire is replaced with a desperateness to prove to himself that he’s still worth something. He needs Nightwing to have a steady support system, and help for this injury.

Nightwing is going to hate him for a while after this, but Slade has no choice. He doesn’t fight against Nightwing to kill him, but because those fights are the only thing that brings a fun challenge. For how human Nightwing is, he fights like a beast, and Slade can’t lose that.

“Up,” he says while returning the kid’s mask; he grabs Nightwing by the arm and lifts him to his feet. Nightwing groans, but doesn’t fight too badly as Slade firmly wraps his arm around Slade’s shoulders. “Where is the best place to exit this place without being spotted?”

Nightwing, with the complexion of the inside of an avocado, talks him through on where to go. He looks one small fit of nausea away from throwing up all over Slade’s armor.

Luckily, he keeps it in his stomach—perhaps the discomfort in his body being something more desirable to deal with than a vomit covered Slade—and by the time they make it out of a small, boarded up and abandoned, exit to the subway line, Slade lets the kid take a break by the nearest dumpster. Nightwing, the poor thing, must have lost everything he’s eaten today in those fifteen minutes.

Now that he’s out below Blüdhaven’s night sky, he’s now the one in charge of leading the way. Nightwing stumbles along blindly—hah—never letting go of his weak grasp around Slade’s neck and shoulders.

Finally, they make it to where Slade has parked the car he had taken into the city. The windows are all tinted to near-illegal levels, but Slade still stuffs Nighting in the back-seats and hands him a bucket he had in the trunk that previously held a few hundred bullets from when he bought them in bulk.

“Throw up on the seats and I’m making you buy me a new car.”

“Bet this one was stolen anyway,” Nightwing mumbles, curled up in the backseats with the bucket touching his stomach like a flu-ridden child.

Slade scoffs and closes the door after reminding him to keep his head down but to stay awake. He takes off his Deathstroke mask, then the top bits of his armor, and shoves them in the truck. Then, after he gets in the driver's seat, they’re off.

Getting out of downtown Blüdhaven should be the hardest part of all of this; both for Slade’s navigation skills and for Nightwing’s gag-reflex. Eventually, however, they make it out of the twists and turns of downtown and eventually make it onto the main roads of the city—still crowded with cars coming too and from various ass-awful shifts of work. Nightwing remains quite agreeable in the backseats, responding that he’s awake every time Slade calls for a status report (about every five-ten minutes), and groaning at every turn no matter how slow Slade takes them.

However, that agreeableness quickly leaves the boy when Slade enters the on-ramp connecting to the north-south interstate.

Kid almost makes himself throw up by how quickly he scrambles to a sitting position; ignoring Slade's commands to lay back down.

“Turn around,” Nightwing growls. And it’s a strong growl too, reminds Slade of a chihuahua. Shaking and all.

“You’re currently blind, you have no idea where-”

“I know the roads of my city, Slade. And you’re leaving it.”

Slade sighs and merges into traffic, then uses one hand to shove Nightwing back town onto the seats. “Keep down, a cop will see you.”

“Where are you taking me?”

Slade remains silent.

“Tell me it’s a secret mansion somewhere and you have your own personal doctor that can help. Or you know a guy that happens to be down south. Or-”

“I’m taking you to Gotham,” Slade says, ripping off the band-aid.

Nightwing looks all sorts of emotions in the span of a few seconds. The one he settles on, however, is anger.

“No.”

“Batman gets injured all the time,” Slade begins to explain, but Nightwing looks frantic now.

“No, don’t take me back- I’ve worked so hard to get him to see that I can do things without him- and he has a new kid now and-”

“Suck it up,” Slade growls. “Deal with it. I’m not like you, kid. I don’t know how to take care of a normal human, and I definitely don’t know anyone who can because I have no need to. What you need is a doctor that can treat you off the record, who knows about your nightlife. Batman has that, doesn’t he.”

It’s not a question, but Nightwing’s silence is still an answer.

“Whatever your old man thinks of you for coming back injured doesn’t matter in the end. Nor does the new kid. What you should worry more about is what I think of you after this. You’re not fighting Batman, you’re fighting me.”

“What if he doesn’t let me fight after this?” Nightwing… Dick whispers as he finally lays back down on the seats. He’s taken his mask off and is rubbing his eyes, perhaps quelling tears or a headache. Perhaps both. “What if my sight doesn’t come back? What if he retires me?”

Slade remains silent for a second, then answers as firmly as he can. “I’ve known plenty of formidable enemies who are missing a sense. You’ll find a way to get back up, and if he doesn’t let you then I’ll just have to break in, kidnap you, and train you myself.”

That startles a laugh out of Dick. “I thought you were no longer trying to get me to be your apprentice.”

Slade shrugs, allowing a smile on his lips, selfishly comforted that Dick couldn’t see it. “You have a lot of potential, kid, I’d rather you use it against me than not at all. I’ll train you and release you like the bird you are, and we can get back to the same ol’ dance we have.”

Dick takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah… okay. I’ll hold you to that.”

-o-o-o-o-

Slade parks the car in an old neighborhood in Gotham that has a considerable drop in crime compared to the rest of the city. All things considered. Though, the sun is beginning to rise and Slade’s positive the Bat knew he was in his city the second he drove into it. Dick knows this too, as he’s telling Slade to hurry up and get out of here despite the boy still looking green around the gills. Slade grabs his mask and armor, then turns to the stolen car he’s about to abandon and opens the back door near Dick’s face.

Suddenly, and rather embarrassingly, he doesn’t know what to say. Thankfully, Dick is a freaky empath sometimes and gives an exhausted smile.

“Don’t worry,” he says, “I’ll get through this.”

“Good,” Slade replies. “I won't let you quit.”

His grin widens. “Never.”

Then Slade closes the door and takes off quickly, only pausing on a distant roof to watch a large black figure and a smaller red-and-yellow clad child approach the car and catch sight of the injured bird inside.

From there, Slade turns and leaves, not looking back.

He’ll see Nightwing on the battlefield again. No matter what, Slade will make sure of it.