#like for FUCK'S sake there's nothing these days you buy digitally that is actually YOURS

[scribblingface]

hey so important heads up for users of amazon (especially if you have your ebooks through amazon):

if your account is locked (such as because of repeated failed login attempts from an unrecognized device, as an example), the ONLY way to unlock it is by providing information about your recent amazon purchases that have been made within the past year. if you have made no amazon purchases within the last year, there is no way to unlock your account.

in other words, if you have for example your entire ebook collection associated with your amazon account and that's your only way to access it, and you don't purchase something for a year, and amazon arbitrarily locks you out for some reason, you will permanently lose access to ALL your books with zero recourse.

I spoke to a customer service person at amazon today to try to unlock my account, who explained that in the system on her end there is NO other option to unlock an account except verifying the recent purchases, and if there hasn't been a purchase recently enough that option isn't available to them to access.

so uh. fuck amazon to hell for their ability to steal all your books at random and give you no way to get them back.

[super-hero-support-group]

Open RP - Clint Barton

Only Clint could manage to get robbed in broad daylight in the middle of fucking nowhere. Seriously, at the edge of town, no people in sight, and he’s getting mugged! There was nothing about him that could have attracted a mugger’s attention either. If you were going to rob someone, you normally wanted to make sure they had something to make it worth the effort.

He didn’t even have a real wallet on him for fuck’s sake! His pants pockets were not at all deep enough to hold one and it was really obvious if you looked at them for more than five seconds. He was actually pretty sure his jeans were originally marketed towards woman, but they were a cheap thrift store buy and they worked just fine for him, so that was all beside the point.

The real point to be had right now was the one belonging to the pistol in the muggers hand, aimed right at him. It was obviously in inexperienced hands if the shake was anything to go by. And of course with shaky hands, one could never be sure what might happen if they got near the trigger…

Colorful swears were paired with a hiss of pain as the bullet entered his leg just above his knee. Really he should consider himself lucky with that, if it had been his kneecap there would go his shield days for quite a while. He fell to the ground with a heavy thud, the mugger’s gun clattering on the pavement just a few seconds after as they dropped it in shock.

He had been trying not to hurt his attacker because he honestly felt kind of bad for the them. He had been at the other end of this same scenario once or twice in his younger life, he knew that moments like this didn’t always come from a place of evil. Even though only their eyes were visible from under a hood and bandana pairing, he could see the shock at the blood now soaking his jeans, they hadn’t meant to hurt him, that much was clear.

That didn’t stop the would be mugger from running away, however. He really couldn’t blame them, he probably would have done the same thing. Probably.

With the fingers of one hand picking idly at the new hole in his jeans, Clint fumbled for his phone and hit the speed dial with bloody digits.

It occurred to him as the phone rang that he didn’t actually see who he had called, just hit a number and hoped who ever it was could come get him. Oh well, if they were important enough to be on his speed dial that was good enough for him.

As soon as the other end picked up, Clint didn’t even wait for a hello, he just started rambling. “Hey uh, it’s Clint. You…probably already knew that, you have caller ID. Uh, anyway, I maybe got…shot? And I need someone to come pick me up because walking with a bullet in your leg is not fun, let me tell ya.” Please come pick me up.

[thithesandofferings]

:::OP Sugar Daddies/Mommies cont:::

:::Dressrosa Arc ft Kidd

Part 2 of the Money Mutual Saga

Part 1 here

MINORS DNI-  TW- Doflamingo being Doflamingo, petplay, dom/sub, praise, degradation, slight yandere tendencies, suggestive behavior. 

Doflamingo

"Everything has a price on it. Whats yours kitten?"

[ ] He flaunts his money every chance he gets. You so much as 'oooo's' an item you scrolled pass in your phone and hes already ordered about 4 in every color for you

[ ] You belong him thusly you are his property

[ ] has a collar with his name on it that he insists you wear for him

[ ] A High Maintenance Sugar Daddy™️

[ ] You must aways look your best with him. Which means hair always did, nails always done and you MUST be turing heads when you walk besides him

[ ] He flaunts you as he would a trophy and his has to be the biggest and shinest one

[ ] Only thee finest you wear and buy

[ ] Yacht Parties, Private Parties, Exclusives Only Parties and especially BuisnessTripVacations!!

[ ] He always wants you to come along with him so forget about you even having a job

[ ] "Kitten be prepared to attend a buisness seminar in the morning ok. Oh and pack the color burgundy-whats wrong?

'Nothing i....you do know i have to give a 2 week notice before i leave work right?'

Hed laugh "Darling, you insult me. Why would you need that lousy job when you have me? Hm? I can provide for you much better than those pleabs can. Now enough of this 'job' nonsense and go pack"

[ ] Tried to take him outta his luxury lifestyle once and didnt know what a thrift store was

[ ] hes only here because you challenged him

[ ] asked the shopkeeper why is everything in double digits and even gave him buisness advice

[ ] ....he actually ended up buying the whole damn store....

[ ] 🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️

[ ] "When its good, its sooooo good. But when its bad hes rotten"

[ ] Oof. Ok so Doff doesnt like disobedience so when he told you to stay in the hotel room til hes done chatting and you came outside still dressed in your little nightdress he lost it. The vein popped out on his head and he stiffly told everyone to leave now.

[ ] Rip that ass. Cuz he spanks you for every whimper you let out.

[ ] *__* Didnt *__* i *__* tell *__* you *__* not *__* to *__* show *__* anyone *__* else *__* whats *__* mine *__*

[ ] For fucks sake don't cry. He loves it when you cry

[ ] "Now now kitten you chose this. You could have behaved but no, you chose to disobey my one order. Now you wanna cry like a weak, sniffling slut you are. How terrible. Maybe i should freeze your cards, or maybe move you back into my room hm? I still have your pretty little cage available"

[ ] LISTEN!! Doffy aint Doffy without degradation🥴🥴 The 'D' stands for Degrade

Corazon

[  ] Just like his older brother he spoils you rotten and also sees you as his possession

[  ] Often sends you clothes he wants you to wear that day and demand you send him pictures in each one, multishots also!

[  ] He adores the ground you walk on. Always showering you with praise and compliments

[  ] "My princess looks as lovely as always today, doesnt she?".

[  ] Oh, unlike Doff that doesnt want anyone to see you, cora looooves showing men what they can never have.

[  ] "Look at her! An absoulte treasure isnt she? And shes all mine. You men will never have something this beautiful along side your arm"

[  ] Ooof he loves you so much!! He recently bought your mom a mansion and basically asks if you want him to buy any other family member a house of their own

[  ] He loves kids and will always remind you about that.

[  ] 'Accidentally' bought a baby crib thinking it was a chair🙄🙄

[  ] "Princess if at anytime you would like to change our arrangements from me being just a sugar daddy please let me know"

.    'Ok i will'

     "...thats it? Will it be anytime soon-"

.     'Nooope'

[  ] *sad cora nosies*

[  ] He loves you to much to say no to you or to let you go

[  ] He rarely says no so its no need for punishments tbh🤔

[  ] he doeeess however get possessive when he sees his older brother trying to talk to you. He forbids you from being alone with Doff especially if hes not there.

[  ] Disobey this one rule and he would edge you all night. The literal 8 hours OF DARKNESS HE LEGIT WOULD.

[  ] Doesnt like seeing you cry so he blindfolds you and snaps his fingers to keep you in a soundproof silent bubble

Law

[  ] Seems pretty strict but is just as big a simp as cora

[  ] He made you sign a contract stating what he expects from you and the rewards you will get in return

[  ] A sucker for your pouty face

[  ] "For fucks sakes y/n i told you how many times before to-....what...whats with that face...IM NOT FALLING FOR THIS AGAIN....stop acting cute!!!.....*sighs* you're always causing me trouble".

[  ] Hes the type to wanna invest in you rather than make various spendings on wasteful things.

[  ] wants you to go to college or university to atleast further your education regardless if you wanted to work or not

[  ] He also carries you on business trips also but dresses you up as a partner instead

[  ] he shows you how his company works and introduces you to alot of big names, thusly is why he makes you sign a contract

[  ] Values simplicity over lavishness

[  ] Bought a whole ass restaurant to have dinner with him cuz he hasnt eaten with you for almost a week.

[  ] he also renamed it for you

[  ] Doesnt get jealous or possessive unless the Donquixote brothers are stopping by to do business.

[  ] Your relationship or arrangement isnt meant to be all that sexual but....

[  ] Hed have you seated in his lap as if you were his pet...because you are.

[  ] Petplay. That is all. Bye!

[  ] Hes by far the easiest one to crack because once you throw on a pair of cat ears on and a tail and hed buy you the entire state.

[  ] misses work often cuz you dont want him to leave after you both spent a night together.

[  ] Uuuugggh hes so fufflyyyy he loves aftercare and treats you so well

[  ] he has a private chef cook for you daily but when hes off he rather cook for you.

[  ] Makes sure you eat healthy and nutritious meals.

Baby 5

If you know baby 5 you would know she automatically spoils tf outta you but with her i feel it'll be more for the emotional comfort that sexual

[  ] Being so emotionally damaged she would never want you to leave her side

[  ] Always wants your opinions when shes about to make a buisness deal

[  ] Netflix and Cuddles🥺™️

[  ] Love her because she deserves

[  ] Alot of headpats and back hugs

[  ] Every time you both have dinner its on one of her yachts and you both dress so extravagant. Dresses, chokers, heels THEE WORKS

[  ] She sometimes asks if she can treat you like her child

[  ] Has a extremely huge mommy kink. Omg call her mommy and she'd cry and run away with you

[  ] She loves treating you to simple stuff like icecream and amusment parks

[  ] A 'On sight' type

[  ] Shes always ready to throw hands, tables, chairs whatever she has to, if someone as much as bumps pass you a little to hard

[  ] she once broke a guys arm that tapped your shoulder to tell you that you dropped your hair tie

[  ] "No one is allowed to harm you! If that b*tch at works says another smart ass remark at you let mommy know and id buy the company and fire her ass...oooo or better yet put her as your personal mule"

[  ] Sometimes forgets her role....

[  ] You: Congratulations! I heard you closed that big deal. Im so proud of youuu!! You did so well

    Baby5:...y-you're p-p-proud of ME! So that means i can pick our wedding dresses???! I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS.."

[  ] Love her pls🥺😩

Sabo

[  ] Wander-LUST

[  ] Hes the reason why your passport needs constant renewal every few years

[  ] He enjoys you as a travelling buddy at first

[  ] First time he saw you he said he knew you'd take some bomb ass beach pictures

[  ] He also needed you to model for him on couple of his yachts

[  ] Wasnt suppose to be sexual but oopie

[  ] He loves you beneath him...you look better there

[  ] Loves POV when you suck his dick

[  ] "Smile for the camera kitten."

[  ] "Mmmm lemme see how far this pretty little mouth can fit over my cock"

[  ] "No no kitten, eyes up here only"

[  ] "Close your eyes one more time and i'll flip you on your back and fuck this throat nice and deep....regardless of your breath intake. Do i make myself clear?"

[  ] Makes a vow to fuck you on atleast 25 different beaches

[  ] So now he loves travelling and fucking you

[  ] The type to wanna record you both everytime hes fucking you

[  ] Vain boi

[  ] He loves the way he looks whiles hes fucking you dumb

[  ] Makes you call him Daddy whenever yall go out

[  ] Your closet is filled with suitcases and old passports....

[  ] ....at this point hes tempted to buy u a jet of your own

[  ] Also the type to send you hella memes...dont question this OK

Eustass Kidd

[  ] Sex

[  ] Sex

[  ] Whenever he calls its like its thee only thing on his mind

[  ] "Im on my way to your place now. Have your bag packed and make sure bring those- nevermind i rather you fully naked."

[  ] He has an issue with clothes idfk

[  ] "Once you step into my house, take those off....everything betters be off"

[  ] He hid your clothes so you had no choice but to walk around nude.

[  ] He gives you a robe...sometimes

[  ] Compliments your ass more than your smile

[  ] "Im doing a fantastic fucking job with your ass"

[  ] "Dont roll your eyes at me brat!"

[  ] "Its only this big because of that pretty arch i alway press into your back"

[  ] Hes just in it for the sex tbh

[  ] Emotionally distant

[  ] He keeps you at arm lenght and avoids any activities that may cause him fall in love with him.

[  ] ....no cuddles after sex

[  ] well....it was like that.

[  ] Ends up falling hoplessly in love with you.

[  ] Went from payment only after each meeting to him sending lunch over to your work everyday now

[  ] Lowkey insecure about his age, which is why he didnt wanna get close to you.

[  ] He invites you to his company workshops

[  ] Loves when you can get immersed in his passion

-Krissy

[astridthevalkyrie]

scam | levi a. x reader x erwin s.

----> Double crossing two different wealthy men is a risky game to play. Just who did you think you were messing with?

----> warnings: fem!reader, threesome, exhibitionism, voyeurism, oral sex (m. receiving), pillow humping, penetrative sex, anal sex, double penetration, degradation, creampie, mentios of cheating

----> a/n: FINALLY THE RICH ERURI FANFIC IS HERE. this is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to write. don’t expect any more smutty stories anytime soon LMAO anyways, I’m excited to get back to working on standing at the crossroads.

You’d thought you were slick.

Okay, to be fair, you kind of had been. It was no real blow to your moral compass either.

Maybe you felt a little bad.

Not really, though.

For fuck’s sake, Erwin Smith certainly didn’t lose more than an hundredth of a single percent of his money every time he splurged on you. You had nothing to feel guilty about, especially not when you were in a lingerie shop, staring at yourself in the changing room mirror while Erwin’s large hands explored your stomach, groped your breasts and dipped under your panties, whispers of you’re so pretty like this, princess hissed into your ear as he fucked you in the very expensive lingerie before buying it for you. There’s an emotional component to sex, sure, and you’re not just his sugar baby. He takes time out of his day as a filthy rich CEO to take you on dates, kisses you sweetly when you’re about to leave, and even texts you good mornings and good nights with adorable dedication.

Now, Levi Ackerman doesn’t bother texting you sweet nothings—actually, if he could avoid texting you at all, he’d probably be happier. He’s also not one for public sex, but that’s not to say he doesn’t like taking risks. Would someone who doesn’t like living on the dangerous side take calls from his friend/rival/ex-boyfriend-you-think Zeke while he’s lazily drawing circles on your clit? Levi just isn’t as flashy as Erwin is, but he still removes your fingers from your phone screen when you’re scrolling through your wishlist and enters in those magical sixteen digits that have you cooing out thanks as he kisses down your neck, muttering something about how there are multiple ways you can make it up to him, starting by getting on your knees and sucking his cock.

What did you have to feel sorry for? Yeah, you were a two-timer, and yeah, they were both kinda nice, and yeah, you were using them both for their wallets, but it’s not like you ever explicitly said that you were exclusive. This wasn’t your first rodeo. And neither of them openly announced you as their girlfriend either, even if it was...slightly implied.

Maybe if you’d picked up on that implication, you wouldn’t be in this mess.

Erwin always was a good fucking liar. Almost as good as you. He’d asked you to attend a very high class party being held at Nile Dok’s house, which of course was a whole mansion. He’d picked you up from your little apartment, greeted you with a brief kiss to your lips, told you you looked beautiful in the black dress you were wearing, and kept his hand on your thigh as the driver took you two to the party. You suspected nothing.

For about an hour, you switched between talking, dancing, and going to the bathroom so you could bag some of the toiletries that Dok was apparently just giving away for free. Sometimes you got a few dirty looks from people, either because you quite obviously didn’t belong with these so-called elites, or because of your younger age. Whatever it was, you ignored it gracefully, saddling up to Erwin to whisper everyday conversation in a way that made it seem like you were being sultry.

You should have known something was up when he took your hand and asked you to come to a different room with him.

You should have known. Erwin wasn’t the type to whisk you away and make out with you in a separate room like some of the men and women you’d scammed in the past. Maybe it was just the giddiness of being in such a large and flashy mansion, but you’d been exceptionally stupid by not asking any questions. And that was why—

That is why you open an inconspicuous-looking bedroom door only to find Levi Ackerman leaning against the opposite wall, smoking a cigarette with an unperturbed look on his face.

Your eyes widen, and you step back immediately, blindly reaching back to try to find Erwin’s hand. “T-this room is occupied—”

“I see that,” the blonde hums lowly, closing and locking the door behind you. “You didn’t wait too long, did you, Levi?”

“Long enough,” the other man grumbles, scanning your form as he blows out a puff of smoke.

You gape, opening and closing your mouth. You’re a smart girl, unfortunately, and you put the pieces together pretty quickly. If only you’d been slightly dumber, then you could have played this off with an airy laugh.

“You two...know each other.”

“We’re long time friends,” Erwin says pleasantly, “do you want to sit down, (F/N)?”

Your mouth feels very dry all of a sudden. “I’d rather not.”

“Sit,” Levi snaps, no room for argument in his voice.

So you take a seat at the edge of the bed, not even chancing a glance down as you gaze warily at the two of them. Levi stays standing by the edge of the wall, while Erwin takes a seat on the couch across from the bed. The room is huge, luxurious, your entire childhood home could probably fit in here. It’s too bad that you’re in the deepest shit you’ve ever been in your entire life, because you really would have liked to make out on this bed and then fall asleep on it.

You have no idea how you’re going to get out of this. Playing it smart is the only tool you have at your disposal. You’ve been double crossing them for weeks now and they clearly only just figured this out, which means you are the brains of this little trio. You can do it. You just have to stay alert.

“Nothing I did was illegal.” This should be thrown out first, because no way are you letting some rich assholes throw you in jail for scamming and cheating on them. “I didn’t coerce either of you, and I didn’t fake my identity.”

For some reason, Erwin looks victorious. “I told you (F/N) was her real name.”

“Pardon me for not taking your word for it.” Levi finishes his cigarette, putting it out. You think about how good his lips must taste at this moment, but quickly banish that thought. “What else did you lie about, then?

Your nails dig into your palm. There is no easy way to say this. “Nothing. You know my real name and age. I’m in my first year of grad school. The only things I’ve lied about are...my feelings for you both, which was more exaggerated than anything.” After all, you were fond of the two of them. It’s just that you were fond of their wallets more. “If it helps, it’s not like I prefer one of you over the other. I was just in it for the money.”

“So you’re a golddigger.”

“...Yeah.”

“Done it before?”

“A couple times.”

“Anyone we know?”

God, you hope not. “To my knowledge, no.” You glance between your questioner and Erwin, who seems awfully calm. They both do. Of course, this is an ambush, so they’ve had ample time to adjust to the news, but you’d expect anger in this kind of situation. Neither of them look mad. Levi seems a bit pissed, sure, but he always looks like that. Apparently it helps when you’re staring down people in court. You’ve never been to one of his trials, but you have no trouble believing that he’s made several people cry.

And despite that, Erwin is more terrifying. He doesn’t glare people down, he doesn’t need to. It’s his way with words that’s terrifying. You know he’s charmed his way into several business deals that no one else but him could pull off. His silver tongue has made you both shriek his name and convince you to stay the night despite your otherwise reluctance to spend too much time with the people you’re conning. Even now, as you watch him, Erwin is cool, composed, amused, like he knows exactly how this is going to end.

Which, you assume, is with you expelled or homeless or some shit. Yeah, right. Not on your fucking watch.

Levi cups your chin, tearing your eyes off Erwin and back on him. “Are you sorry?” he coos, voice dropping. Your eyes widen, not having expected the sudden sexual advance from him. And it is most certainly sexual, given Levi’s change of tone. You know that tone, it’s the one he uses when his thumbs are rubbing circles on your hips and grinding into you against the large glass window that’s in his bedroom. Luckily, there are no such windows in this room.

“I—I—”

You're aware of the sudden heat that pools between your legs. Shit.

Levi trails his thumb over your lower lip before pushing it past them, past your teeth, until your lipstick is staining his fingers, mouth stretched over his thumb. "I don't think you are," he says mockingly, "you're lucky that Erwin here is so forgiving."

"She's also lucky that you and I happened to date back in the day."

"Don't say 'back in the day' like we were in middle school or some shit. It was six years ago. Oi—" he snaps, nudging your chin further up. "Suck."

But you're not letting them do some kind of revenge sex with you. Oh no, you're not gullible, not even when you're horny. Erwin and Levi have another thing coming if they think that this is going to work. You don't force his hand away, but you stare up at him cooly, raising a single brow. A glare crosses over his features, and he removes his thumb, smearing the strand of spit over your lips roughly.

"(F/N)," Erwin begins, voice smooth like the silk bathrobes he purchased for you three weeks ago, "if something like this gets out, you could get expelled. People would remember you for this your whole life."

"That sounds like blackmail to me."

"It is. But it doesn't have to be. As it is, Levi and I are quite willing to share. Financially, socially, you lose nothing if you agree. If anything, you gain the comfort of not having to hide your infidelity."

Infidelity sounds like such a proper word. Like you're an unsatisfied married woman looking for an adventure and not a broke college student trying to experience what it's like to live in the lap of luxury. However, despite everything, you can safely say you've enjoyed yourself more with these two than you have with any of the other people you've scammed. It's why you've procrastinated breaking it off with them. They challenge you, push your buttons, satisfy you in more ways than one. Actually, it's no wonder that they know each other, remarkable people always find a way of finding one another.

"What's in it for you two?" you ask cautiously. Baby blue eyes gleam victoriously. He knows he has you.

"The chance to enjoy your company, of course. We're both very fond of you, darling."

Oh, now he's bringing out the nicknames. These men are both as into you as you are into them. You've never been in a…a throuple before, but if that's what they're suggesting, you have surprisingly few qualms.

"But," you push, and Levi's grip on your chin tightens just a bit, "how long does this go on?"

"However long you want," Erwin says easily, "you're free to end this agreement whenever."

"Yeah, right. And have my life ruined?"

"We don't actually plan to blackmail you," Levi says in a scathing tone, as though you were stupid to even think such a thing. "But if you disagree, it's still you who loses the money. Our only requirement is exclusivity, outside of the two of us. That includes the shitty brats you run around with all the time.”

Thinking it over in your head, you really can’t find any faults with the agreement. You still get your paycheck, for lack of a better word, and you don’t really have to pretend anymore either. Clearly the two of them are interested in the sex, and they’re good at it, so you can’t think of any possible complaints you would have. Getting to enjoy a lavish life with these two is surprisingly not the worst way you could spend at least the next year.

“Fine.” You nod. “I’m in.”

“Good. Lie down.”

You look at Levi, amused that he still hasn’t relinquished his grip on you. “What, don’t I get a kiss?”

Something clicks in his blue-grey eyes, a warning that you’ve seen countless times before. His touch becomes tender, as he kneels down and you tilt closer. Knowing Erwin is watching brings a heat to your cheeks that you haven’t felt in a long time. Do they plan to take turns with you, let the other simply watch?

Levi’s lips are almost on yours when he murmurs, “Cheeky bitch, did you think we weren’t going to punish you first?”

You gape, but he’s already standing up straight, snapping his fingers and gesturing for you to lie back on the bed. You’re about to snap back, be bratty like you tend to be and how you know Levi likes, but the warning in his eyes intensifies, and you find your throat parched all of a sudden. So you lean back until you’re resting against the headboard, watching him carefully.

Erwin stands, walking over until he’s towering over behind Levi. His eyes are only for the shorter man, he barely spares you a glance. Your ego wouldn’t have been able to take it had you not known that it was deliberate. He wanted you to be offended, wanted you to see that his lack of attention was because, as Levi said, this was a punishment. While the two obviously didn’t have plans to go after you legally or blackmail you, there were many ways they had to make a person crack.

Devils. Other people most certainly call them that often, but it’s the first time you’ve thought such of either.

“Levi,” Erwin almost purrs, leaning down to press his lips to his neck. “tell (F/N) what you want.”

The ravenette doesn’t say anything at first. You would think that he’d be embarrassed too, as one of Erwin’s large hands began popping open the buttons of his dress shirt, face buried in his neck as he samples the taste of his skin. But his gaze is still locked on you coldly, and there is no hesitancy in his voice as he snaps, “Leggings. Off.”

If you’re not the first girl that these two have fucked together, then you’re going to be royally pissed off. With a steady hand, you fondle the strap of your dress, pushing it off your shoulder slowly.

“Hey,” Levi’s voice cuts in sharply. “Are you deaf?” His back is pressed entirely into Erwin’s chest, loose shirt hanging off shoulders giving you the delicious sight of his bare and taut chest and stomach. “I said leggings. I’ll take care of the dress myself. Don’t bother taking your panties off either. You don’t deserve to.”

At this, you turn even redder. But curiosity compels you to obey, to slowly tug your leggings down until they’re pooled around your feet, dress bunched up around your waist. Seeing the wet spot on your lacy white panties doesn’t even bring a smirk to his face. All Levi does is scoff, although his breath catches when Erwin bites down on his pulse, bringing his hands up to tweak both his nipples with practiced hands.

The sight is the most mesmerizing thing you’ve ever seen. Levi Ackerman, who you’ve only seen stutter all of zero times, is standing with his mouth hanging open and his head leaning back, as he slowly becomes lost in the pleasure being given to him. You follow Erwin’s movements on his body enviously, watching the exact spots he presses down, where he rubs, what he touches. Even if you strain your ears, you can’t tell what filthy things Erwin is whispering in Levi’s ear, but whatever it is has Levi releasing a breathless whine that echoes in your ears and makes your core throb. He grabs Erwin’s hand, pushing it down to where he can unbuckle his pants.

Which Erwin does with no haste at all. He takes his time, still not looking at you, nipping at Levi’s earlobe and jaw. There is a certain...expertise in Erwin’s movements, and you find yourself wondering why they even broke up when the blonde can so easily reduce Levi to a whimpering mess. Fuck, in all the time you’ve been with him, you’ve never even fathomed bringing Levi to this state, and Erwin’s done it so quickly. You’re not even sure who you’re more jealous of right now.

What seems like lifetimes later, Levi’s pants are unbuckled and pulled down, and Erwin is palming his hard cock through his boxers. He releases a growl, muttering a quick, “Get on with it,” at which Erwin only smiles patiently, obviously accustomed to such needy demands.

Sliding his shirt off, Levi is left clad in his boxers only, letting out grunts and sighs as Erwin grinds into him slowly from behind. It should be downright humiliating for Levi, to become so undone while Erwin is still fully clothed, but when he opens his eyes and glares at you, you’re still the only one who feels embarrassed.

And when Erwin finally pulls Levi’s dick out, even embarrassment leaves you as you shamelessly ogle the two men. Erwin strokes his length as Levi curses, eyes shutting. “That’s it,” Erwin coos, and a longing moan leaves the other man at the condescending encouragement. “I’ve missed you, Levi.”

His hand moves faster, and it’s like a beautiful disaster unfolding right before your eyes. Oh God, the way Levi is bucking into Erwin’s hand, face twisted, like it’s the first handjob he’s ever received...you shudder, tossing your head back against the pillow as gently as you can and slipping your hand underneath your panties.

Erwin says something, too quietly for you to hear, but Levi gives him a breathless murmur of assent before turning around to face him. He’s blocking your view, but you hear a faint click as he unbuckles Erwin’s belt, and then Levi is getting down on his knees.

You bite down on your tongue hard. God help you, you’re not going to make any sound when neither of them have even touched you. It’s not that erotic of a sight, just two of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen in your goddamn life being extremely lewd right in front of you.

“(F/N),” your name is called sharply. Erwin finally addresses you directly, his piercing gaze finding refuge on your flushed expression. “Neither of us said you could touch yourself. Hands where I can see them.” You open your mouth to protest, because your fingers are already slick with your arousal, and you desperately need some friction, but Erwin speaks before you can say anything. “You’re a good student, darling, I know your grades are exceptional, and that’s because you know how to listen—ah fuck, Levi—”

Ignoring Erwin’s reprimanding (seriously, who the hell does he think he is, talking to you in a way that makes you abashed and horny at the same time), Levi is already tugging down his clothes and taking his cock in his palm, only taking a moment to spit in his hand before stroking him languidly.

Erwin is far more vocal than Levi allows himself to be. With a not-so-subtle growl, he fists Levi’s hair, bringing the other man’s lips to the head of his dick. Your eyes trail down to where you can see how almost painfully hard he is, and your mouth goes dry. At the hem of your panties, your fingers still, forgetting what you were going to argue about as you stare. Levi grunts from the slight force, but he opens his mouth and two inches slip past his lips, drawing a raspy fuck from Erwin and a muted gasp from you.

Levi has never been one to hold back, not when he really wants something. And damn, does he really want this. It’s obvious from the way he bobs his head back and forth, taking more each time, moaning even with his mouth stretched out around Erwin’s thick length.

And it’s quite obvious, from the way his throat bobs, from the way his mouth falls open, from the way he tightens his grip on Levi’s hair and pushes him further down on his cock, that Erwin really wants this too.

He manages to hold your gaze again, and a deep groan emits from somewhere deep in his chest when he sees that your panties are soaked through. A slight smirk forms on his face, one that makes you shiver, amazed that he can manage to somehow be composed while getting fucking deepthroated.

“Do you wish you were in my place, darling?” His eyes gleam wickedly. “Or maybe, you wish you were in Levi’s place. You do love to use that mouth.”

A whine finally escapes you, as you grind back into the bed, imaginary restraints keeping you in place as though one of them tied you up. Either option is heavenly. If only you could be standing in the middle of the room, black hair tickling your thighs as Levi ate you out in this stupid humongous room. Just the idea of his tongue—his mean, harsh, wondrous tongue—on your sopping wet cunt has you shutting your eyes, rubbing your legs together to relieve the ache at your core.

And the second option is even more arousing than the first, if that’s even possible. To kneel down and suck Erwin off, feel his hard and heavy member in your mouth as you lick, suck, slurp him so well that he doesn’t even have it in him to be condescending anymore. To knead his balls and drool over them so he could get a good look of how absolutely fucked out you looked every time you let him use your mouth.

“Hump the pillow.”

Your eyes widen. “Pardon?”

“The pillow you’re so comfortable on right now. Go ahead. If you want to get off, that’s the only way I’ll let you. Don’t take off your panties.”

You gawk, disbelieving. Forget embarrassment, forget humiliation, this request is on another level. He wants you to hump a pillow like you’re some horny teenager—ironically, your teenage years were the only times you had ever bothered to put that kind of effort into feeling good, because it often left your legs sore and at the end, wasn’t even worth it. You’re free to say no. You know that. But...the thrumming between your legs is clearly not going to be satisfied any other way.

So you can’t bring yourself to refuse.

Rolling on your stomach, you fold the pillow and slide it underneath you, gasping as soon as it makes contact with your clothed cunt. This time you’re the one avoiding looking at him, because you can’t bear to look at Erwin as you slowly begin to ride the pillow, unable to hold back the whines that slip past your lips as soon as you build a pace. Shit, fuck, fuck, it’s not enough, but it’s everything, it’s—

Erwin bucks forward, groaning as he takes in both you and Levi. The sound of his voice sends shockwaves straight down, and you bow your head and gasp. The friction makes your eyes roll back, and feeling Erwin’s eyes on you, watching you act so wanton on his command, is enough to take any shame and replace it with a sudden thrill.

You’re loving this.

“Look at her,” Erwin growls, tugging Levi off. “Look at her, she’ll use anything she can just to come.”

You whimper softly. “T-that’s not true—ah.” Tears build in the corner of your eyes. It feels so good, you’re actually astonished by how good it feels. Normally, you don’t enjoy coming around nothing, but you feel like you’re burning right now. Every inch of you feels like it’s been set ablaze, a feeling that only increases twofold when you realize that you’re the one who’s being watched now.

Levi’s eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them, almost blown out by how intensely he’s looking at you. Your gaze falls to his hands on the floor, propping himself up from his kneeling position until he’s standing, leaning over you. Despite his short stature, he seems so much higher above you in this position, especially when you’re the one humping a damn pillow of all things.

Both of their gazes are purposeful, powerful, a reminder of who you’ve been messing with. A reminder that you deserve this. A reminder that you enjoy this. You want them to look at you exactly how they’re looking at you.

“Stop,” Erwin says smoothly, right when you’re on the brink of reaching your orgasm.

You don’t stop. You can’t stop. You’re right there, you’re right there, you just need a single—

It’s snatched away. A single hand wraps around your bare throat, pulling you up to kiss you roughly on the lips. You whine pitifully as the pleasure is ripped from you, but he doesn’t care. “He told you to stop,” Levi breathes against your lips, squeezing you ever so gently as you taste the cigarette he was smoking earlier. “Is it that hard to follow instructions, brat?”

You’re nodding before you really realize what you’re doing, mind hazy. It doesn’t have to be the pillow, you’ll be more than satisfied if one of them provides any form of touch. But for now, all Levi seems to want to do is kiss you.

His hand drops from your neck down to your waist, tightening around you as he tugs you off the bed. Groans slip from his mouth, and he pulls you flush against him, dragging his hands down your body and finally resting them on your ass. He gropes and kneads it, but otherwise remains completely sensual, moving his mouth against yours.

Just as you’re becoming lost in the kiss, Levi cups your chin with one hand, jerking your head to the right only for you to be met with Erwin, kissing you just as roughly, if not more, over Levi’s shoulder. As he runs his teeth along your lower lip, you feel Levi press his lips to your neck, and you moan sweetly into the kiss, shudders rippling down your back.

“Damn con artist,” he hisses, “I bought you this dress.”

And then, he tears it off.

Your gasp is swallowed by Erwin, who slides his tongue into your mouth, taking his time to scout the entirety of the crevice. Once he’s had a good taste, bruised your lips sufficiently enough, he turns you around to face Levi, rubbing his thumb against your shoulder blade firmly. Predictably, your mouth falls open.

Dizzy. You feel dizzy, but in quite possibly the best way you’ve ever experienced this sensation. Both men are touching different parts of you, kissing different areas of your skin, perfectly in sync with one another as though they planned this beforehand. They probably did, the methodical bastards. They probably went through every possible plan and settled on the one that would fry your nerves completely.

“Please—”

“Shh,” Erwin says, stuffing three of his fingers in your mouth. “Bite down if it hurts, alright, princess?”

The familiar nickname has you mewling, shifting your hips between them, just trying to get some form of satisfaction. When your clit brushes against Levi’s fingers, you groan, rocking into his hand shamelessly.

Devils.

With minimal effort, your panties are discarded, and with Erwin’s fingers still touching the back of your throat, Levi positions his dick against your wet folds, then pushes in all at once.

You wail, gagging and blubbering, mouth stretched out. The scent of both their colognes is overwhelming, adding to your lightheadedness as Levi pushes all the way in, pulls away gently, and then thrusts again with full force.

Every movement of his pushes you back against Erwin, and you can feel his throbbing erection firm against your ass. The scent of his cologne is delicious. You’re breathing in it, even more so when he breathes against your ear.

“You can take me too, can’t you, darling?”

The muffled, choked assent that you give him is more than enough.

Much slower, conscious of hurting you, Erwin sheaths himself in your ass, until he’s bottomed out, all while Levi stays still. The two of them give you a few moments to adjust.

You’ve never felt this full. You’ve never felt this good.

At least that’s what you thought until both of them began to move. Raspy grunts and groans fill the room along with the obscene sound of skin slapping skin. You’re slowly losing it. mind becoming fuzzled as the only thing you can focus on is how well you’re being stretched between the two of them.

Still, your spirit isn’t entirely gone, and you manage to huff out, “T-that so-called punishment didn’t even last that long.”

Erwin snakes a hand around your waist, pulling you tightly against him, and with the other hand he brings a palm down hard against your ass, sending you into a flurry of whines. “No one said it was over.”

He stops only for a few seconds, leaning over your shoulder to plant a kiss on Levi, who reciprocates with intimate enthusiasm, squeezing your hip as he swells inside of you. Unable to help yourself, you duck your head down and lick a stripe up Levi’s neck, causing him to groan helplessly into Erwin’s mouth. “Brat,” he seethes, when he pulls away, “you’re asking for it, aren’t you?”

Both of them resume their pace, leaving you feeling empty and then full again. And again. And again, and again, and again. Your head is thrown back against Erwin’s shoulder, mouth open, borderline pornographic sounds escaping you as the blonde man holds you still. Levi takes a moment to suck on your tits, a stark difference to his usual neat self when he makes a slobbery mess on them.

There is a loud knock on the door, but you don’t have the energy or the voice to warn the person.

“Occupied,” Levi snarls, thrusting his hips hard enough for you to cry out loudly. You’re close, you’re so close. If only someone would—

Erwin’s hand dips down, and rubs his thumb over your clit, whispering sweet, cruel words in your ear. “I think this is what you wanted, (F/N), isn’t it? You wanted us to figure it out and make you nothing more than our little plaything.”

Your walls clench, and suddenly you’re coming, juices dripping down as you grab onto Levi’s shoulders and letting out a high-pitched wail. Your mind finally goes blank, all thoughts leaving except for Erwin and Levi and Levi and Erwin and fuck, fuck, you could never get tired of reaching your peak like this.

Levi comes just slightly after you, panting in your ear as his voice cracks. You’ve never heard anything more arousing, and each weak jerk of his hips draws out more low whimpers from your lips.

He pulls out as Erwin grabs hold of your hips, now only using you to reach his high as well. He moves you like a ragdoll, cursing under his breath. Your soft sighs and gasps encourage him, and he finally explodes inside of you with a low groan of your name, filling you with warm ropes of cum.

He catches you before your legs can buckle, gently tossing you against the bed where you close your eyes, breathing in and out softly. Every time you try to speak, you find no energy to, so you simply rest, relaxing against the silky soft sheets.

“You’re filthy,” Levi says bluntly. “Go shower.”

“This isn’t my house,” you murmur, beyond tired.

Erwin chuckles, sitting down on the bed next to you. “Did you forget who you’re with? Consider this house yours for the night.” Reaching out to stroke your leg soothingly, he addresses the other man. “But she can wait just a few minutes, can’t she, Levi? Because she was so good.”

Levi scoffs, but he sits down next to you too, dragging a hand through your hair and massaging your scalp gently. “Maybe this’ll teach you something, shitty scam artist.”

You snort, opening your eyes to give him a cheeky look. “All it taught me is that I should scam two people at the same time way more often. But for now…” You take his hand, placing it on your waist as you curl into Erwin’s chest. “Trust me, this is more than enough.”

And they seem to like that answer, because both of them shift closer. As they each hold you in their own, unique way, a faint smile creeps on your lips.

You could get used to this.

[tobiosmilktea]

high fidelity — kuroo tetsurou

3.9k words | genre: fluff | warning/s: terrible writers block writing, ooc kuroo cause i suck | pairing: kuroo x gn!reader

↪︎ in which being the only two employees at a small record store meant that you and kuroo worked together almost every day. and not a single day has passed that you didn’t find your coworker absolutely insufferable. you think he’s annoying, and he thinks you’re cute. in reality, kuroo just sucks at flirting.

a/n: is the plot a bit of a mess? lowkey yeah, but ykw that’s okay cause i needed something stupid to write. this was also a bit self-indulgent cause homegirl just got employed at a record store (yay)

fucking tired—is what you would tell kuroo in the means of his grand intervention to mess with his favorite coworker of all time. granted, you were his only coworker in the infamously meager record store down some random alleyway in downtown tokyo.

those six words were how you would describe how you felt at that very moment. busy with doing what you were employed on doing rather than sitting around and snacking on some trail mix. one would assume that working at a rather small establishment meant little to no work, especially in hours where it was slow with no customers roaming up and down the aisles, but god were you wrong. you were the only one on the shift actually busting your ass off on the floor and at the register while all kuroo does is change the music playing on the store’s overhead speakers and hangs out.

sure, he does do his fair share of work here and there. occasionally he would even take over most of the manual labor of carrying all the new shipments of heavy vinyl records for the sake of courtesy, but at the end of the day, it was always you who would have to restock the displays every time.

so much for being a gentleman.

your feet hurt, your legs ached, your arms were sore. you were just glad that kuroo finally decided to get his ass up and actually walk around for once. he probably wasn’t planning on doing any work, simply just meandering through the aisles of vinyl just to see what to buy next with his 20% off employee discount. you honestly couldn’t care less. what you did care about was that the stool behind the cash register (aka the only place to sit inside the entire building) was finally free.

you settled yourself behind the counter, a sigh escaping your lips as your chin rested atop the palm of your hand.

you finally had a chance to rest. yet despite taking this rare opportunity, you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit bored now that the store was practically deserted. then again, what did you expect from working at a small business? not to mention, it’s the twenty-first century and all forms of media was digitized and easily accessible by a single internet search. there were, however, a few old souls out there, still in love with the idea of having a physical copy of their favorite artist’s work.

you were easily one of those people.

there was something so endearing listening to strangers talk about their love for music—it’s why you started working here at TRAX in the first place as a sorry excuse to surround yourself with the physical embodiments of the best invention mankind has ever made. hell, you still had the old walkman that your father gave to you. it was from the 90s with its gray plastic chipping at the corners and scratched-off lettering. you even had his old cassette tapes always in your bag whenever you go out.

regardless, the quietness of the store wasn’t at all bad at times. if anything, you were fortunate that kuroo wasn’t annoying the shit out of you like he normally does—poking at your cheeks and teasing you to no end. in fact, it was a nice break from the overstimulation of the occasional busy hours that come out of the blue. from old men mansplaining how record players work to annoying middle schoolers trying to blast their terrible soundcloud songs on the store’s bluetooth speakers. perhaps the slow hours were a godsend.

it was absolute hell trying to chase those annoying thirteen-year-olds out of the store with the help of kuroo. causing a ruckus or not, the situation was a bit funny at the end. it was one of those rare moments you and kuroo shared a genuine laugh together.

a sigh escapes your lips then as you take out your walkman, plugging in the old headphones that came with it. the black, plastic ones with thin muffs whose wires tangle no matter how much you try not to. you place them over your ears.

today’s mood was classic 80s rock, something along the lines of queen, guns n’ roses, and journey beating into your ears as you let your eyelids rest for a few seconds.

however, your means to relax was immediately shut down when a hand snatches your headphones off of your ears.

“ouch,” you groan as the plastic of the headset scratched at your temple. you look over your shoulder at your coworker with confusion plastered all over your face. “what was that for?”

kuroo blinks with a sly smile on his face, “those things still exist?”

you flick him a look, “what do you want?”

“you don’t get paid to sleep on the job, you know.” kuroo gives you a pointed look as he hands you back your headphones.

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. the audacity. “i get paid by the hour and the store is literally empty right now,” you defend as you click your walkman on pause, “besides, aren’t you the one slacking all the time?”

“only when the boss isn’t around,” he hums.

“the boss is never around,” you huff.

“speaking of an empty store,” kuroo starts once again, watching you wrap the thin headphone wires around the body of your walkman. “d’you got any spare change?”

your eyes peer at him slightly, “what for?”

“to get a drink from the vending machines down the street, obviously.” replied kuroo.

yet another sigh left your lips, licking at its dryness as you reached into your pocket to reveal a few fifty-yen coins. it wasn’t much, but it wasn’t like anything from the vending machines in the city was that expensive. just anything to get him off your back again for peace of mind. “get me a one too while you’re at it,” you mutter, tossing the coins into his palm.

“why don’t you just come with me?” he asks, curious.

you shake your head, “i can’t leave the store unattended.”

kuroo clicks his tongue, feigning himself from rolling his eyes and just tugging you along with him. “come on, it’s not like there are any customers.” he gestures onto the barren floor as if its emptiness wasn’t already obvious enough.

“do i have to?” you groan. you just got comfortable and you weren’t exactly in the mood to walk all the way down the street either.

“yes,” he said sternly, hoping that it was enough to sway you, but surprise surprise! it didn’t. his unsuccessful (and oddly pitiful) attempt at convincing you to come with him caused the corners of kuroo’s lips to dip into a slight pout.

no matter how annoying your coworker was, thinking he wasn’t at all cute or the least bit attractive was a lie. when you look at kuroo, you’re not entirely sure what it was about him that made your heart skip a few beats despite your brain thinking the opposite. was it his sleek obsidian hair that was always styled perfectly? perhaps it was his eyes that were so pretty that if you looked at him for longer than a few seconds, you would be entranced? or maybe it was his witty charm that despite being annoying, you still found his presence nice to be around?

whatever it was, you hated to think there was even the slightest possibility that you liked kuroo more than you would like to admit. and the worst part of it all? perhaps you did like him more than a friend.

and that was the biggest problem.

how annoying, you think.

“pretty please,” he begged, his warm hands suddenly finding yours in the midst of your internalized dilemma and pulling you out of your thoughts.

the action catches you off guard as you snatch your hands back from his abrupt contact. eyes wide and heart beating heavy, you gulped when you noticed how close he was to you then. the action of you pulling away from him only brought kuroo closer like some odd twist in fate.

your thoughts pondered a bit as you looked up at him, still patiently waiting for an answer as he gives you a comforting smile. perhaps kuroo stepped a bit out of line this time, and there’s no doubt he feels a bit bad about it. he was about to pull away and apologize but after your thoughts spiraled for a few seconds you gave in with a nod.

“fine,” you say, lifting yourself off the stool as kuroo steps away from you with a grin. you follow him around the counter, taking your walkman with you as you pass it.

you just hoped no one came by while you two were out. the last thing you wanted to do was get fired all because your annoyingly handsome coworker wanted to get a mid-afternoon beverage.

your shoes muffled gently against the store’s floor—tap, tap, tapping in some form of patterned unison as you and kuroo left the building.

the backroads of downtown were quiet. considerably so compared to the main streets as there was nothing but tweeting birds, whistling cicadas, and an occasional bicycler whizzing by. it was such a nice day, perhaps it wasn’t a bad idea to go out after all.

there was something incredibly calming about afternoon strolls down the street, feeling the rays of sunlight beaming down on your face as you further melted into an earth-smearing mood while you unpaused your walkman.

your headphones laid around your neck with the volume set on max this time just so kuroo could listen in. the corner of his lip quirked up a bit as you did so. it was like a nod of approval within a minuscule gesture. then again, you and kuroo always had a similar taste in music—messy and all over the place, but the classics are where you and he truly had the most in common.

the walk there was short and quiet. usually kuroo doesn’t mind being the one to strike up a conversation, but right now, it was as if he was trying to savor something at the moment that you couldn’t really pinpoint.

upon arriving at the rows of vending machines, kuroo slips in a few coins before pressing one of the buttons. he opted for a calpico, watching the can fall from behind the glass before bending down to pick it up. kuroo doesn’t even give you a look before he puts in the rest of your change, let alone ask what you wanted. the boy presses on the button right below a matcha drink—the exact one you were planning on getting.

he bends down when the drink dispenses and hands it to you on beat with the music emitting from your headphones.

“thank you,” you say, a bit dumbfounded as you opened up the can.

the slight confusion was evident on your face as kuroo couldn’t help but find your curiosity absolutely adorable. “i always see you with that drink whenever you come in for work,” he explains, chuckling as he takes a sip from his own. “assumed you liked it a lot.”

you couldn’t help but blush at his words, feeling your heartstrings suddenly tug at the thought that he knows you enough, let alone care to even remember such a minor detail. letting out a shaky breath that you hoped was drowned out by the music, you lamely attempted to hide the crimson red hues on your cheeks as you take a drink.

“i’m surprised you’d even remember something so insignificant about me,” you mutter as you two walk back to the store, yet this time your pace slowed along with his.

it seemed as if you weren’t the only one wanting to spend a little more time like this.

“i mean, it’s you.” kuroo replied, fingers nervously fiddling. “you are my favorite coworker after all.”

which wasn’t at all a lie. it was true. you were his favorite, but it was nothing more than a panicked and questionable explanation in the means of nonchalance. he couldn’t exactly expose himself out of the blue ever since you two talked about what you looked for in a partner. he recalled your words of wanting to find someone who cares about you and can remember every detail about you regardless of what it was. and much of his dismay of explaining his type to be the exact same of your own traits and characteristics, his sorry excuse of casually flirting completely flew over your head.

and if he’s coming to think of it now, all of kuroo’s sorry excuses of flirting probably went over your head. he mentally faced palmed himself. god, you probably thought he was the most irritating guy on the planet.

yet to his rapidly beating heart, you laughed, practically beaming at him. kuroo swears you could literally send him into cardiac arrest. “i’m your only coworker, idiot.” you tease before taking another sip.

he grins.

“gives me an even better reason to care then,” he hums, pulling the door to the store open just to be met with a thunderous shout.

you two were met with the owner of TRAX record store aka your boss. the short, pudgy old man with a receding hairline and a scowl on his face stood by the counter, arms crossed over each other like a disappointed parent.

“where have you two been?” he grunts, his familiar adenoidal and croaky voice ripping through your eardrums as you hurried to pause your walkman. “leaving the store unattended just to get drinks? you two are lucky i got here when i did because a customer just came by!”

your lips purse together nervously as the grip around your can tightened. kuroo notices your unease, giving you an apologetic look. he turns to face igarashi, your boss, “sorry sir, that’s my bad. i was the one who convinced (y/n) to come with me even after they said no.”

“oh really?” your boss tested. his hand came up to his chin to scratch the few strands of beard hair he even had. he scoffs, “of course it is.”

your neck swivels up towards kuroo as guilt melted into your bloodstream. knowing igarashi, he wasn’t the type to lay easy on simple mistakes. it was the only reason why you were glad he wasn’t here often in the first place knowing that he was like a ruthless hawk with eyes that followed you everywhere.

“it’s not entirely his fault, sir. i knew better but i still decided to go.” you muttered, refusing to look kuroo in the eye as he looks at you surprised.

igarashi lets out a huff as his eyes closed for a few seconds, “my therapist told me to take deep breaths whenever i feel as if i am about to lash out,” he explains before pulling himself together. he opens his eyes, tone much calmer now but the words were still like venom. “since you two were at least truthful about it, i will let it go this time, but know it won’t be the next time around. alright?”

you and kuroo nod, “yessir.”

“good. now, i want this place spotless by the time i come back.” with that your boss disappears into the back where he would be for the rest of the night–not helping at all. he stays in the backroom just to nap and to get away from his own unhappy marriage. you just hoped he stayed there until the end of your shift.

with your pulse calming, you took a sip of your matcha drink out of comfort, finishing all of its contents before throwing it into the trash bin. kuroo does the same thing, this time out of the fear of getting in trouble again as for the first time in a long time, you hear him ask you, “should we get to work then?”

you almost wanted to laugh. you were oddly giddy about working alongside him rather than vexed, nodding in response. both of you grab one of the grates of newly shipped records from behind the counter, ready to be put on display as you and kuroo worked down the same aisle.

with your walkman still on hand and your headphones wrapped around your head, you decided to play the cassette tape again just to ease the underlying awkwardness that was still in the air.

when you paused your walkman earlier, it stopped near the beginning of good old fashioned lover boy by queen. and the moment freddie mercury starts vocalizing, you could practically feel the ice around the two of you melt, heads bobbing to the beat as you two worked your way down the jazz aisle.

it went like this for the next hour. songs ranging from artist to artist, humming lightly to the beat of every drum. usually, kuroo wouldn’t last two minutes without complaining about doing work, but for once he didn’t mind knowing that you’re right next to him, mumbling the lyrics together in incoherent unison. if he knew working with you was going to be like this, he wouldn’t have been such a slacker after all. you could honestly say the same thing.

the cassette tape pulls to a stop, reaching the end of its duration as you and kuroo reach the bottom of the crate of vinyl records. as you reach inside to take out the last few albums, a gasp escapes you as your eyes fall onto one of the records. it was one that you have been dying to get for years now.

you put your walkman and headphone set down, grabbing the album.

“no way,” you grinned, capturing kuroo’s attention as he looks over at you curiously. “look, look!”

“tears for fears?” he says as a small switch flickers in his brain. “isn’t that your favorite 80s album?”

you nod, happy to think he even remembered that about you as you rush over to the cash register. you buy the album without a moment of hesitation, already freeing it from its plastic wrap as you reach kuroo again. you open the cover, beaming at its beautiful design. you couldn’t wait until you got home to listen to it.

at the end of every other row, there was a record player display that customers were able to use. taking out the delicate vinyl, you carefully placed it on the player’s mat with delicate fingers. you pick up the needle, hovering it over the edge of the record before placing it down gently.

on either side of the record player, there were hooks to hold headphones. each of which was connected to the machine as you quickly pull kuroo over. taking the headsets from the hooks, you put one of the pairs on before placing the other over kuroo’s ears, tiptoeing just to reach his height. almost immediately one of the most iconic songs of the decade stream into his ears. it was everybody wants to rule the world—one of your favorite songs.

you two stood there in silence, listening to the song’s nostalgic beats as your bodies faced each other. while you were looking over at the spinning black vinyl, kuroo eyes fell on you.

there was absolutely nothing in his wake to be able to take his admiration away as this, this beaming expression on your face had something special about it. it was as if his entire world was right in front of him, just an arms reach away.

his heart couldn’t slow for a minute as he could practically hear it over the music playing in his headphones. his breath gave way then, at the moment you turned to look back up at him with glowing eyes as if you struck gold. you consider yourself lucky being able to get your hands on such a rare vinyl, but kuroo considered himself the winner as he had you.

“do you like this song?” you asked him curiously, ignoring the way your heart started beating rapidly from the way he was looking at you with such care and admiration.

you were so close, you were literally right there. all of kuroo’s emotions that battered onto him like a cumbersome downpour can be relieved if he were to just say the words. a simple phrase, three short words, and a heavy heart beat. ready to leave his tongue and all would be done.

come on, just say it!

“I like you,” he says out of the blue, but his voice was a bit muffled due to the headphones.

your eyebrows furrow slightly, mouth suddenly running dry as your eyes widen.

did he just say what you think he just said?

you are not entirely sure what he said considering his words were partially drowned out by the music. you wanted to think that he did say the words of the impossible, but you couldn’t be so sure of yourself.

“sorry, what did you say?”

kuroo’s hands wrap around your headset, pulling them off of your ears and placing them around your neck. “i said i like you and i wanted to know if you wanted to go out sometime!” he says ratherly loudly. his headphones were still on him blasting tears for fears.

you couldn’t help but laugh, the back of your hand coming up to cover your reddening cheeks. warmth surrounded your heart, like a hug that squeezed at your chest in the most comforting way possible. you raise your hands up, cupping around the shell of his headphones as you pull them off of kuroo.

“you’re so loud,” you mutter.

as if fate decided to push you into the unknown with a strange burst of confidence within you, you got up on your tiptoes and leaned it. pressing your lips against his, soft and light, your skin ignited ablaze.

in a mere moment of serendipity just to test out the waters, you were pulled in deeper, mind blurring in satisfaction. yet it was nothing more than temporary as the sound of infamous footsteps gradually got louder and louder. panicked, you pull away quickly just seconds before igarashi emerges from the aisles, staring bullet holes into you and kuroo.

“i suppose you two are working?”

you nod, pulling your wrists out of kuroo’s grasp.

kuroo quickly answers, “we are, don’t worry.”

your boss lets out a suspicious hum as he gives you two one last look. he turns back around again, disappearing into the back.

a sigh of relief leaves you as you turn back towards the boy in front of you. he still waited for an answer, almost desperate to know as his eyes searched for an answer.

grinning, you pause the record player and kuroo watches it spin to a slow stop. “you’re an idiot,” you say with a laugh.

kuroo doesn’t seem to care at that moment, if anything he was just glad there were no one else was around. his hands wrap around yours again, “well, is that a yes or a no?”

“so that kiss wasn’t obvious enough for you?”

liking someone you found annoying was impossible, but liking your annoying coworker? now, that was a different story.

general taglist: @yongboxerrr @rosepetalhaven @tvwhoresblog @tanakaslastbraincell @kellesvt @kitsunetea @milktyama @anejuuuuoy

[uhhhhyandere]

my internet cut off when i was sending an ask so i don't know if it actually went through,, could you write something for reader and a possessive/protective mello? my birthday is coming up in 4 days - i don't have anyone to celebrate it with, and he happens to be my comfort character 😅 feel free to delete this if you don't want to that's totally ok!!

such lies, such lies!

you can celebrate your birthday with me and the rest of us in death note stan hell. i hope you can find some ways to celebrate getting through another year, and that this lil piece brings you the joy you deserve <3 ily

“Can we... uh... go out, then?” You scratched the back of your head. Mello’s eyes dragged across the room until they met yours. You twiddled your fingers together. 

“Why?” He rested his chin between his digits. You glanced around, making sure to scan the calendar to double-check a clearly true fact. 

“It’s my birthday, so I thought maybe we can do something.” Mello twisted in his seat and crossed his leg over the other. Elbow angles against the corner of the table, the hand of the same arm rested above his mouth. “Please? It can be something small. Dinner, or something.” He sighed. 

“Alright,” he agreed. “Take your pick, then.” Your smile grew and he rolled his eyes at the joy sparking on your features. “Don’t get too excited. It’s not that big of a deal, but,” he stressed, “don’t get any funny ideas, got it?” 

You were giddy while you finished fixing yourself up in the mirror. It’s been months since you’ve properly gone out anywhere, much less a date. The excitement of checking yourself out in the mirror (a few moments of self-deprecation, but compared to the last few months of work and stress, it was refreshing to look like a human again.) and the pile of failed outfits on top of your bed was so relieving. 

“Are you done?” 

“Are you done?” Mello always looked good, and there wasn’t any mystical reason as to why, so when he walked into the room in lieu of an invitation, you weren’t surprised to find him in all black, tight-fitting clothes. His eyes flickered from your face to your feet, then back to your head. “Looks like you are.” 

“We’re going to be late if you spend two more seconds in front of that mirror. What do you think is going to change? Whatever detail you fix will inevitably fall back down before we get there.” You shot him a glare. “You’re the one that asked to go out, and now you’re lagging behind.”

“Sorry, I haven’t gone out in a while! I wanted to look nice. For...” you cleared your throat, “you.”

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.” You clicked your tongue. 

“Get a better glove next time then.” You twisted towards him. “Okay, done!” Spreading your arms wide, you presented yourself. “How do I look?”

“Presentable. Let’s go, then. The sooner we leave, the sooner we get back. The sooner so many people’s eyes will be off you.” He scowled. “Anyone looks at you for more than five seconds, I’m going to eradicate them.” You hummed and slipped on your shoes, using Mello’s shoulder for balance. Before you can take it off, however, his hand clasped your wrist tightly. He brought it towards his mouth and, without breaking intense eye contact, slotted a kiss between your knuckles. “I hope the place you chose is adequate.”

Adequate. Well, that’s not the exact words you would use for your favorite local restaurant, but that’s the reason why you loved it. After stressful days, you used to always find yourself here. The bar, for some reason, no matter the day, would be stock full of patrons. Most were regulars or friends of the owner until you eventually became friends with the owner too.

“Y/N! Wow, we haven’t seen you in a while! Who’s this?” Mello scowled next to you. Most likely because of the weekend crowd and the heavy smoke permeating the air. This definitely was not the type of place he frequented. 

“This is Mello. We’ve been together a few months now.” The regular smiled and regarded him. Mello’s grimace must have kept him from saying anything else since his focus quickly focused back on you. 

“Ah, I see. Get a boyfriend and you abandon us!” You laughed politely and scanned the floor for an open booth. One nestled in the corner, though still dirty from the previous occupants, was open. You smiled and offered him a few more concise words before leading Mello to the corner. 

“It’s disgusting in here.” 

“Food is nice and greasy. You can just get dessert if you want, though. It doesn’t matter to me. What does though is,” you nodded over to the nearby crowd huddled around a single table, “is that. I haven’t gambled in so long. I wonder if I still got it in me.” You dug your hand into your jacket pocket and pulled out the wrinkled, thinning plastic bag full of poker chips. “Doubt it, though.”

“You play poker?” You set the bag on the table. 

“Yeah. Got into it a few years ago. I’m terrible, though. Luckily, they don’t play for high stakes. Just shots or drinks or buying a round for the group.” He snatched the bag and rolled it around in his hands. “Not that many, I know, but I think I can maybe end the night even. Hopefully.” 

After your old-time favorite comfort meal and Mello’s dessert, you rose from the table with Mello following like a shadow. A few of the spectators you recognized greeted you before growing silent after making eye contact with Mello. A few eyes trained on him. Naturally. You didn’t even need to look back to know he was glaring at them. You grinned while approaching the table. “Deal me in the next round?”

“Y/N,” oh my - How did you not notice him? A devilish smirk on his face, he waved. “I didn’t expect you to be here. You haven’t been here in a long while. I missed you, babe.” You glanced to Mello. His eyebrow shot up and he stared at him. “Still mediocre?” 

“As if... yes...” You scratched the back of your head. “But it’s fun, so,” you shrugged. 

“Of course. I’m sure our pal can deal you in real soon. Just wait your little butt there.” ...Little? Mello hummed next to you but said nothing to acknowledge the aggravation on his face. Once a seat opened up, you sat yourself down. Mello’s hand rested on the back of it. Occasionally, the movement of his fingers would graze across your shoulder. “No cheating from the goth behind you, got it?”

“As if.” 

You tried to ignore the sultry gaze and sugary words from his mouth through the rounds. Not for your sake, but for the sake of the person lurking behind you. Mello didn’t deal with competition so well. You sighed. Maybe I shouldn’t have indulged too much.

Turns out you needed help from the goth behind you. They really managed to swingle you every time. By the number of chips remaining, you would only last two more rounds, and you didn’t want to go back empty-handed. “One more. Then I’m done. I can’t go home without anything. I’m nearly out of cash at this point. My pride would hurt too much.” 

“Alright, alright,” your old acquaintance said. “We just won’t use money or rounds or anything. Winner gets,” he hummed, “your underwear.” Normally, you’d say yes. Who really gave a shit? But that normally was before you and Mello became a thing. You shook your head. 

“Sure,” Mello answered. You paused, turning to him in bewilderment. His face was entirely serious. “One more round.” Did...did he know you’re probably going to fucking lose? Was he that pissed at you that he didn’t care? “It’s no problem, right?” He looked down at you. His eyes widened just a hair for just a second. What was he thinking?

As he flipped his hand at the very end, your stomach dropped. Mello’s face remained the same, however. Even as you stood to... follow through with the demands. Though, as soon as you stepped away from the chair, Mello slid into it, hands folded on the table. 

“One more,” he said. "Stakes are they keep their things, and you don’t look at them ever again. Not even a glance.” He paused. “That goes for every fucker in this shithole,” Mello called. You didn’t get a word in before he urged them to deal. 

He was... he was probably joking, right? 

You replaced Mello’s standing space behind the chair. On it, he leaned back cooly, legs spread with one bend up on the chair’s cushion, the other spread outwards on the ground. The cards in his hand close to himself, you were not able to get a good look at them with the downwards angle. 

“...Royal flush,” he said in the end, the cards sliding into a half circle into the table. Silence. “Did you all not remember the stakes here? Anyone even looks at them, I’ll carve your eyes from your head.” Mello rose, hand clasping yours, and dragged you out of the establishment. You were sure everyone would be glaring in your direction if they were able to look at you. You guessed it didn’t matter if you didn’t pay. It wasn’t like you were going back here ever again.

Once into the brisk air, you ripped your wrist from his hand. 

“What the fuck was that?” You hissed. 

“What the fuck was that? What about you bringing me here to watch all those greasy men leer at you like some piece of candy? What about you letting that fuck do and say anything he wanted? What the fuck was that?” His fingers gripped your chin. “Who do you belong to?” 

“W-what?” 

“Did I stutter?” At your lack of answer, he tightened his grip. “Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“Yes, me.” Mello ripped his hand from your chin and dug it into his pocket. “I’ll make sure you know. I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re mine.” He pulled a switchblade from his pocket. 

“Mello, no -,” 

“Stay here.”

“Please,” 

“No. We’ll finish... celebrating your birthday at home, alright?” 

[softsebnbuckystan]

Sugar & Spice - 2.

Sebastian’s pov

Note : y/s = your surname

A closing door wakes me up and my first reflex is to check on y/n. She was in a really bad state last night. I wonder if she remembers crying in my bed for a whole hour. She probably doesn’t. And I guess that’s why I don’t see her lying next to me anymore. I slowly sit up and rub my eyes to get rid of the last bit of tiredness. God, I hope she doesn’t feel too bad. What if she thinks we did something last night ? I know she doesn’t want anything to do with me in that way and I respect that. She wouldn’t believe I’d ever take advantage of her drunken state now, would she ? Then why did she run away ? I sigh and decide I’ll worry about it over breakfast. I open the mini fridge and get some milk for my cereals. I don’t feel like making an effort today. I’m kinda sad that the movie is already over. At least I’ll get to see her again at the premiere, hopefully. Then we’ll have to do press together and… This is gonna be so awkward.

I’m already done eating when I notice it : it’s there, on the night stand. Her cellphone. She must’ve been really freaked out then. I smile at her clumsiness. Maybe I should text her, call her. I know she’s still with Scarlett so she’ll probably answer. Well, here goes nothing… I pick up my phone and uselessly clear my throat before I press the dial button next to Scarlett’s name. The phone rings a few times before she actually picks up.

“Hey Sebastian, what’s up ?

I exhale. I’m actually stressed about this. I know nothing happened, I was sober after all.

“Hum, not much. It’s just that y/n forgot her phone here. Is she with you ?”

“Here like in your room ?” I can tell she’s doing that suggestive thing with her eyebrows.

“Yeah, you left and I couldn’t leave her alone in that state. She insisted on coming with me so…”

“I see, you played her knight in shining armour.”

“What ? No, I-”

“Could you come over and give her back her phone ? She’s in the bathroom right now so she can’t speak.”

“Yeah, sure, let me grab a taxi real quick and I’ll be here in an hour or so.”

“Alright, see you !”

“See you !”

She’s already ended the call but I sill can’t believe the funny note in her voice. Does she think something happened between me and y/n ? Because if she does, it probably means that y/n herself thinks something happened. I mean, sure, helping her putting on one of my T-shirts might have been misleading but that was not my intention, not at all ! She was just so… Right after Scarlett left the club, Chris and Anthony followed her lead so it was just me and her. Oddly enough, I think they knew exactly what they were doing. Anyway, as soon as they left, y/n’s mood changed instantly. I’ve been working with her long enough to know she turns sad whenever she drinks a little bit too much. Thankfully, I didn’t drink at all last night so I could help her if she needed anything. And she did.

The night before

“So tell me, Sebby, when are you going home ?”

Her voice was shaking from her occasional sobbing and her smile seemed fake from all the shots she’d downed.

“Probably a few days after the premiere, why ?”

“Nothing.” She remained silent for a few seconds, looking at the people dancing in front of her.

“Do you ever regret becoming an actor ?”

Her question surprised me. I know it can be a lot of pressure sometimes, but I don’t regret doing this job. Among all the things it did for me, it allowed me to meet her.

“Do you ?”

“Every day,” she admits. “D-don’t get me wrong, I love acting. It’s just…” She’s interrupted by a hiccough. “Sorry. It’s just I can’t take it anymore. The rumours, the press… You know ? After what they said last year, I- I don’t know if I should keep doing it.”

I had no idea what to do. Usually, I’d find the right thing to say and I’d hold her hand but…but it’s her. I knew she’d probably push me away. I decided to place my hand on hers anyway. She didn’t move.

“I know it’s hard, I do. But think about what this job did for you. Not the paparazzi’s, not the rumours… You met Scarlett, Chris, Anthony,… You met me, all those years ago. Aren’t you happy about that ?”

She looked right at me, unexpectedly, and she leaned in. All I could think was that she was about to do something she’d regret in the morning. She stopped right before her nose touched mine.

“Of course I’m happy about that. You know I…” She paused.

“You what ?”

“Never mind.” She sighed and buried her face in her hands. “I’m such a mess, Seb. I- I don’t know how to get out of here.”

“You’re still thinking about what happened last year, huh ?”

She nodded. Of course she was. Those reporters had twisted everything she had said, making her look like a horrible person, which she definitely wasn’t. Her reputation had been dragged and she’d never allowed anyone to see her after that, except for me and Scarlett. We’d had a hard time convincing her to come back for The Winter Soldier. But she was strong, wasn’t she ? She’d never shown any sign of weakness in front of the cameras, even when we were doing interviews together.

“I am,” she answered. “I try to tell myself it’s over but… I know I’m being watched, you know ? I know they look at my every move, in case I say something wrong. It doesn’t feel like I can be human anymore.”

“You know you can be human with me.”

“I do.” She leaned in again and hid her face in my neck. I wrapped my arm around her waist and held her against me. I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t help it. Feeling her against me was a blessing. “Thank you Seb, for everything.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“After what I put you through every single day ?” She gave a sour laugh. “Trust me, I have to thank you. If I were you I would probably give up on me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not ? You’re saying it has never crossed your mind ? Even after last summer ?”

I shivered at the thought of what had happened on last year’s July 4th. We were almost sober that time and well, it went…far enough.

“It’s not like you did that on your own. I was okay with it too.”

“Yeah, but I knew how you felt.”

“Forget that, okay ? It’s not…it’s not important.”

“It was to me.”

“What ?”

“What ?”

I shook my head. I was probably reading too into it.

“C’mon, I’ll take you to your hotel.”

“Can I stay with you ?”

“y/s…”

“Don’t call me that, I don’t like it.”

“Right.”

“Please ?”

I rolled my eyes to the sky and grabbed her hand. She could barely walk in a straight line. I called a cab and when it arrived, I helped her climb into the car. When we got to my hotel and finally took the elevator, I realised how quiet it was, compared to the club. She was there, leaning on the wall, and she was looking right at me. Her eyes were still as bright as always and her lips were slightly parted, oh so inviting. She’d dressed up and was wearing a cute dress. It wasn’t provocative but it was still tight and didn’t look comfortable when drunk. She smiled and it was the death of me. I walked up to her and looked briefly at the elevator digital screen. We still had ten floors to climb. I knew I couldn’t control myself for that long. I placed my hands on her waist, not looking away from her. She tilted her head backwards so slightly, in an almost imperceptible move. I kissed her cheek and I could feel her smiling. Fuck, how could she do those things to me ? I laid small kisses down her neck and when I got to her collarbone, she moaned slightly, making me want to keep doing what I was doing. I pulled away and rested my forehead against hers. Our breathings mixed and our noses touched. She was so beautiful, even that close.

“Can I kiss you ?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, almost out of breath.

Our lips crushed as we leaned in at the same time and when the elevator’s doors opened, I led her to my room. She helped me take off my shirt and then she turned around, lifting her hair up. I unzipped her dress slowly. It was both a way to turn her on and a way to buy me time to stop myself. She was drunk. It was wrong. Her unzipped dress fell on the floor and I kissed the back of her shoulder. She faced me and that’s when I came back to my senses. She placed her hands on my chest and I grabbed her wrists.

“You’re drunk.”

“So what ?”

“So…you don’t really want this.”

“Why wouldn’t I ?”

“Because you told me that, for God’s sake !”

She took a step back and crossed her arms on her chest.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I’ll get you something to sleep in.” I turned away from her and searched my drawers for a spare T-shirt. I found one that was little bit large, even for me, and gave it to her. I took off my pants and put on some shorts. Sleeping in my underwear next to her didn’t seem like a good idea. When I covered myself under the sheets, she laid next to me and looked me in the eyes. I could see she was on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I really am.”

“I know, it’s alright. Let’s get some rest now, okay ?”

She nodded and then turned around. She didn’t want me to notice but the movement of her shoulders sold her out : she cried for a solid hour before falling asleep.

So that was part 2! Please tell me what you think in the comment, I love reading your opinion and advice to help me improve.

@thummbelina​ @princessleah129​

[gukptune]

Eccentric [m]

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: cyberpunk!au, cyborg!jungkook, eyepatch!jungkook, courtesan!reader, smut, dom!jk, switch!reader

Warnings: a lot of smut, explicit language, explicit acts, oral, foreplay, slight daddy kink, slight bionic finger stuff, cumplay, creampie, edging, big dick jk

Words: 5.4k

Plot Summary: A certain red haired client buys you for the entire night.

a/n: I was inspired by the new cyberpunk 2077 gameplay reveal, cuz im hyped i wrote this - the whole rebellion thing is a meh, a filler, cuz idk how the night city in the game actually works hahah.

Endeavouring into the cleaning of your room for tonight, you could only put away the decorations and pamper up the sheets. In the house everyone had a room for their routine work, all sound proof and completely bare. They kept it that way so that each person had their own individual style, it was nice, nice enough.

Yours was truly nothing special, kept more simple and graced with large windows. You had landed yourself one of the corner rooms which was completely open, the windows reflecting the night city well. Decorated with darker comforters, pillows and blankets. A lot for just the aesthetic but mostly for comfort, something for you to hold onto when you wanted.

You worked at Black Rain Bath House, merely a cover for the sex work that happened every single day. The people who work here are called, Courtesans, mainly because everyone here costs a whole lot. Apart from the sex dolls, bots, of course. Though in this world it was hard for anyone to really stay fully natural, most get modifications― for appearance sake or the perks of having tech in them, like heightened agility, eyesight or just wanting metal parts.

You were one of the rare ones here, nothing done, mainly because they seemed pointless to you.

As you had arranged your room well enough for your liking you hear someone step into your room, “You’ve got one tonight, 10 pm.”

The head mistress came into your room with a device, she handed it to you as you stared at her with confusion.

“Only one?” Usually you started work around 8 pm and kept going all night, the least was at least 3 and the most, well, you weren’t even going to mention it.

She chuckles as she nods, “Hmm, he seems diligent on being your only for the night. Words gone around that a fully fleshed girl knows how to treat any man.”

She smirked watching as you sighed, “Wow, I guess I’m pretty popular.”

“Natural girls are hard to find even here, we’ve got a mere handful and you’re the best of them,” She explained, leaning on the side of your door, “Even I dare say, my pussy is definitely not natural― years of this kind of job, it’s synthetic.”

Not that it was bad to enhance yourself with modern technology, it was just that it was extremely popular. A few years back, courtesans with synthetic bodies or even androids were extremely popular but now that it was so popular and mainstream, everyone seemed to go backwards and want the original just plain ole human again.

“Funny how the world changes,” You said, spinning the spherical device around in your hand.

“Well, let’s just say, human men still like the fake shit but those androids or cyborgs love humans,” She shrugged, “At least we both get some.”

She then pushes herself off and begins to leave, turning around to take a look at you. You watched as she pointed to the device, “Read up on this one, he’s a real big one and not just in that way.”

“Have fun,” She struts away before you could respond, her high heels and formal attire leaving your sight. Even though, this was technically a brothel you dressed extremely formal just like bath house employees would, merely ripping all the formality off as soon as you step into the room.

Humming as you motioned for the door to shut. Walking back to sit on your bed, pondering in your thoughts. Rubbing your thumb against the plate on the sphere, watching as information about your client beamed up.

Jeon Jungkook

Age: 21

Race: Human (Previously), Cyborg (Currently)

Enhancements: Right arm (Metal), left eye (Computerised), knee and joint replacements (Metal), Organ replacements (Synthetic)―

Gosh, you can’t even comprehend, most of these are quite serious and seemed as if they were for medical reasons and that wasn’t even all of it. This made you think of what this boy had gone through to have to had so much done, remembering what Mistress said you blinked, Big...

What could she mean by that in a non-sexual way. As you scrolled through his information about birthplace, education and what not you looked at his affiliations.

It was as if your heart stopped beating at the text you read. He was not just anyone big, he was one of the most influential. He lead an Anti-Governmental gang that fought against the laws against weapons and technology. Things like the ban on manufacturing their own without government supervision, it needed to be owned by someone on the board. Laws against testing and creating new technology that would pose to be a threat against government issued technology. Of course it was stupid, mostly the laws were governed in the upper ring, but not here. The night city still infested with crime and illegal activity, the free city.

It was to say the least that you had known him, you’ve seen him before, he was powerful― it was strange to think that he had specifically requested you. Making you feel like you needed to really prove that you were what they say you were.

Feeling strange about your bedding arrangement now, you shivered nervously with the thought of him being in near in a few hours. Maybe you should consider decorating better now.

9:52 pm

The red digital number blinked angrily at you. Dressed in a new outfit you had just bought you sat on one of the loveseat awaiting the arrival of a certain client. Nervously, biting on your lip as you fumbled with the clip on your thigh high socks. Your toes wiggling, barefoot, as there was no need to really wear shoes in your own room.

The client comes to your room in your establishment, he had a number and himself. He’d knock and you’d answer. At this point, you truly didn’t know why you were so nervous, how were you suppose to open the door now.

9:56 pm

Your eyes never leaving the numbers as it slowly got closer to ten. Groaning as you leaned against the cushion on your seat, pulling it out from behind you wrapping it in your arms as your chin rested against it.

9:58 pm

Fuck. You felt like you needed to pee, was it real or just your head. Keeping your head faced towards the clock you kept peering by the side of your eye at the door, awaiting the heavy knock.

9:59 pm

One minute, a chill shot down your legs. Pursing your lips as you tried to look in the mirror at yourself. Wondering if you looked good enough, jeez, you sure did but the nerves was not something you could push away. The feeling of butterflies in your stomach wasn’t the good kind but the gross anxious one.

10:00 pm

It as time, turning towards the door. You watched. But nothing happened, breathing a sigh of relief.

10:03 pm

He must’ve been late. If it was any other client, you’d cancel and find another one. He was paying a high price for you and you weren’t going to be able to just cancel on him for being a few minutes late, you wondered if he even cared about being on time.

Petting the soft cushion on your lap, your legs crossed you nearly forgot about what you were suppose to do, until a heavy knock echoed in your room. As normal, whenever a client knocked the lights would dim, you watched as the door opened and there stood the man.

You could smell him from where you were, your breath hitched at the sight of his glorious self. He wore a suit, without the blazer, it was folded on his arm― a dark red dress shirt clings to his muscular body, the silk shirt left nearly nothing hidden. His hair seemed wet, brushed up, his forehead exposed― even wet you could see the tint of colour in his hair that the blue light in your room shadows.

His eyes were centred on you, eyebrows raised at you, you noticed the eyepatch he wore― he must’ve not finished his eye replacement, though that made him look even more dangerous, in a good way. At first you were confused, then realising that the cushion you had was covering you entirely, pushing it aside quickly as you stood and walked towards him.

“Sorry, I was just waiting on you,” You said, smiling at him. He breathed, taking you in. You looked up at him through your lashes, reaching out asking for his blazer.

He lets out a chuckle before letting you take it, “Sorry about that. I had a long meeting and the world decides to curse me and rain.”

That explained his wet hair and clingy shirt. You took the blazer gently as you motioned for him to come in. The door closing at that. You hurried to put his blazer on the dresser, hopefully it would dry.

You watched as he strode towards the bed. The bed was facing the door entirely, the headboard non-existant as it was a mere bed with a view of the city as the head board, on it’s left was also a floor to ceiling window.

“Nice room,” He said.

“Thanks, most of them look like this― you know without the windows,” You replied, watching his back flex as he turns.

“I wouldn’t know,” He said, eyes trailing down your body, “Never been here before,” oh, well that’s just great, his first experience with the House was going to be you, that’s just fantastic.

“Glad to be your first,” You trailed, getting up close to him. As you stepped closer to him, he stood proud and big watching your every step with lustful eyes, “Hmm, you sure? You seem tense.”

He teased you, of course he did. Not paying mind to it, you ignore it. Reaching his large body, getting a smell of his aroma. Hands placed on his plump chest, you pushed him down on the bed. He smirked, watching as you straddled his sitting frame.

Arms lacing themselves behind him, your lower body grinding against his― feeling the budge of his cock brush against the thin red lace that barely covered you. His large hands grasping the back of your thigh as his fingers ran over the clips of the thigh highs, both of his hands felt the same―must’ve been some expensive prosthetics, “These are pretty hot, though they’d be better off.”

Feeling a pinch and the snap as it fell off, you peered down at him as his attention was fully at your thighs that were spilling out of your socks.

“Hmm, wouldn’t it all be better off?” You asked, pouting your lips. Feeling his hands stop at the other thigh.

“You’re naughty, is this what you humans are like?” He asked, with amusement. Not hiding the fact that his boner was dying to push out of his pants as it rubbed against your clit. He was huge to say the least and that was one of the only real parts of him. The heat radiating him practically making you melt under his touch.

You shrugged, “Aren’t you human?”

“Sort of,” He shrugs before tugging on your socks to get them off. Rare, usually the clients enjoyed keeping them on. You stepped back onto the ground, on your tip toes as his thick hot hands grasped the bands and pulled them both down in one pull, stepping out of them before giving him a light twirl.

Seeing his smile enlarge satisfied you, his hands immediately went to brush against the bare skin of your thighs. You stood in front of him as he pulled you against him. Spreading your thighs so you’d straddle him as you were standing, feeling his hands molded the skin as you felt heat twitching at your centre.

Letting out a gasp at his hand that slipped between your thighs, zoning into your centre, swallowing as you placed your hand on his thick shoulders―holding on to keep yourself upright. His hand wasn’t as hot, your eyebrow twitching trying to get use of the feeling.

“Not used to prosthetics?” He murmured as his finger brushed against your most sensitive bundle. Biting your lip at the sensation.

You shook your head quickly, letting a smirk slip, “I am. Just not you.”

His eyebrows jumped as the corner of his lip curved, his hands leave it’s original place and rub itself up towards your waist, stopping as it reached the small pinch. Squeezing the lace covered bodysuit, trying to get a feeling of the skin beneath it.

One of his hands slipped down and grabbed your ass, groping as he lifted you up, pulling you into him, back to your previous position. His breath now hot against your neck, as his lips were merely a few inches away.

He swallowed, you watched his adam’s apple bop as the veins on his neck thicken. His tongue slid across his lips as he eyed the exposed skin of your neck, his hand still tight on your bottom.

He hissed as he felt your slick wetting your underwear, “Why don’t I get you accustomed then.”

It wasn’t a question, more like an order― his voice raspy, out of breath and deep, the volume echoing into your spine. Getting aroused by the mere sound of his voice, though his touch was nothing to look pass either.

Knocking the wind out of you as he spins you over, pinning you down on the dark blanket. At the corner of your eye you watched as pillows bounced off the bed due to the sheer force. Your mouth gaping at the sight of him above you, breathing heavily as the hair on his head fell across his forehead slightly, he looked fucked out before you even began.

He had his thick muscular thighs pushing against yours spreading them apart, as he did this you heard a gush of arousal push out. Eyes widening in embarrassment but he didn’t seem to care, he seemed to have liked that. Gliding his warm hand that was on your waist up towards the zipper in front of your chest.

Hearing him slip a groan as the zipper was being pulled down, more and more of your cleavage being revealed to him. As it stopped at your hips he slipped his hands against your bare stomach, pushing the lace back, exposing your entire chest to him.

He bit his lip at the sight before a hand grazed one, making you whine at the sensation, “A whiner? Fuck, would you whimper for me?” He moaned at your voice.

It was hot, you felt hot― things were heated, “I’ll do anything you ask.” You whimpered, smiling as your eyes twinkled at his expression. He was pleased, a grin plastered on his face.

“Good,” He breathed, taking a nipple in his mouth. Twirling the nub with his hot, wet tongue― you arched your back letting a moan out. Your hand grasping underneath his arm, scratching against his back, feeling the muscle flex against your nails.

“Argh, how are you’re so hot,” You froze, shit, what did you just say. Guessing that he was confused, you looked scared. Pausing as your face burned red, “I’m sorry.”

He cocks his head, “Why’re you sorry?”

As if he was in disbelief, as if he didn’t understand what you were saying. In the House you weren’t really suppose to speak out of terms, as in you sound only response to your client. Though, you did let it slip every now and then, usually the clients never notice.

“I’m not suppose to―”

“Speak? Seriously?” He chuckles, pulling himself up, his bulge now placed perfectly at your entrance as he leaned on his forearms which were on the sides of your face. He stared down at you, one of his hands cupping your face, “I asked for you because I heard you speak out of ‘terms’, speak all you want baby girl. You got me hard just with that look on your face and fuck I’m leaking from the tone of your voice.”

“But―”

“Aah, no buts, I want to hear all of it,” His lips captured yours in a hot wet kiss, his lips were red from sucking on you before. Your moans were incased in the kiss, arching yourself into him as his hand slipped under your head to pull on your hair. He tasted like mints, must’ve been from the meeting but god he tasted hot, his tongue snaking around yours. He held onto your face, leaving your jaw open and your lips red and swollen.

“So hot, so fucking, hot,” He placed an open mouth kiss on your open lips and practically tongue fucking your mouth. Making you whimper at the rough feeling, feeling hot in your core― aching down there.

Yours hands running over his front, feeling the sculpted abdomen, whining at the feeling of it being clothed. Your eyebrows dropping as your lips pout at him, tucking on the shirt.

He chuckles with a deep breath, pulling away on his knees, “You’re needy, huh?” he began unbuttoning the top of his shirt, seeing more and more skin your smile grew bigger, biting your lips as you watched his bulge near your face. Resting on your elbows, one of your hands brushed against his cock, causing it to twitch.

He lets out a strangled groan, huffing at you. His hands shaking trying to button, what seemed like a million buttons. You felt kind of good teasing him, “Please―”

You palmed the protruding cock, blinking at him, hoping he’d hurry.

“If you want a taste, you’re going to need to take me out, baby,” Oh, so he wanted you to do it. Fine, you took that as a suck me off cue and unbuttoned him. Pulling down the zipper as you watched him slip the shirt off. 

Halting in your tracks at the sight, licking your lips, he took notice of your change of attention, “Like what you see?” He teased.

Taking your hand and placing it on his hardened stomach, his thick veiny hands gripped your smaller one tightly as he used your heat to rub himself. Nodding at his question you pushed off the bed into a sitting position, lips immediately on his hip― sucking on the protruding angle.

“Ah, argh, fuck,” He groaned, you watched as his only visible eye closing at the feeling. You wanted to please him so bad, he looked so good― all your hesitation and fear left at the fucking door.

Pulling his pants and underwear down quickly, taking him by surprise, before he could even say anything you had your hand on the base of his cock. It was huge, being compact and strained inside his tight pants you watched as it strung up to hit his belly button.

He gaped at sensation of a pair of warm hands rubbing on the base of his sensitive dick. His hands rubbing your head through your hair, pulling you in slightly.

“You want me to suck you off?” You tested.

He hummed in response, pulling you in even more. But you kept yourself in the same place, wanting to test him even more.

“Do you? Do you really?” You breathed, your breath blowing against his red, leaking cock. Teasing him as you did.

He seemed to not be very patient as that pretty much ripped him off his nice boy look, his eyes hair and lips set in a firm line― realising that you weren’t just a simple little submissive one but definitely a switch, though he wasn’t going to be having none of the latter. His hand now holding onto your jaw tightly, you stared into his eye― paying more attention to the eyepatch. God, he looked so hot with it.

“Be a good girl and suck me off, okay,” He growled, patting your cheek. You pout at this, feeling his dick throb against your palm as you stayed still.

He realised you weren’t going to do anything from that command, letting out an amused chuckle he bent down towards your face, “Difficult aren’t you? Don’t be a brat, come on―”

“―be a good baby girl and suck daddy’s cock, princess,” He placed a kiss on your forehead. Grinning as you got him to reveal his not so sly kink.

Enough of testing the air, you had your tongue out and licked the tip of the head. Tasting the salty precum, pursing your lips as you pushed his dick to the side. Placing a kiss on the base of his cock, tongue feeling the area before licking the side from base to tip, he choked out a moan at the feeling. Tightening his grasp on your hair, he must’ve liked that. Completely taking the tip in between your lips now.

Feeling the veins that throbbed through his length encased around your lips as he held onto your hair tightly, feeling himself getting so close he began fucking your throat. Gagging and whining at the roughness of his thrusts, you peered up to watch him, blinking as you saw him looking right at you. He choked out a moan as his thrusting jittered and stopped, watching as he quickly pulled himself out― pushing your head back, hearing a lewd pop of your lips, “Fuck, don’t look at me like that when your throat is filled with my cock, baby girl. I nearly came, fuck.”

Pushing you onto your back, he had everything off of you in a split second. Must’ve been that close cum call. Breathing heavily as he pushed your thighs up, placing himself between them. You watched him, his hot, wet― from your sucking, cock dangling it’s glorious self between his thick thighs before they disappeared into the sheets as his body flattened against it.

Completely distracted by his lower half, you didn’t notice his hot breath against your core. Taking you by surprise, a wet and hot lick flattening against your clenching hole, gasping as you felt his tongue exploring you. His hands holding onto your thighs, tightly spreading them apart as one slid itself up to hold your hips down. Completely held down and unable to move your hips against his tongue, he slowed the pace on purpose, hearing the displeased whimper that left your pouty lips he smirked against you as his tongue flicked your sensitive nub, sending a huge jolt of sensation up your spine.

“We’re going to have to prepare your tight little pussy for this huge cock, princess,” He grunts, pushing his thighs underneath your own. Bringing his cock into view again, seeing it twitch and leak at the sight of your clenching saliva wetted hole.

His hand feeling down your cleavage, stomach, naval and stopping right before it hit your most needy spot, whining and thrusting your now free hip at him. He lets out a breathy chuckle before slipping his finger inside you, clenching at the thrust. He gaped, cocking his head, “Only one and already, whimpering? Fuck.”

His other hand squeezing your bottom as the pinky brushed against another hole, letting out a sharp breath you realised reacting like so was a mistake, seeing the arched eyebrow plastered on his face and his curved lip. As if he didn’t know he brushed another finger there.

“Aren’t you full of surprises?” Leaving the finger already thrusted, knuckle deep into your pussy he teased the ring on your bum, feeling the hole clenching hard by the mere brush peaking his interest, “As much as I personally like this, you’d cum way too fast from this― we’ll keep this hole shut til next time.”

Leaving your other hole lonely and tight, he began thrusting again now with another finger. You couldn’t help but reach down to grab onto his wrist, feeling how hard his hand was and how fast he was going. He watched you with his body now leaning over you, hand flat by the side of your face. You could feel his throbbing dick rubbing against the inside of your thigh.

Moaning breathlessly at his pace, you felt it. You high racing up, you body tensing and clenching, he hummed at the tightness and began rubbing his thumb against your clit. A large gasp left your lips, holding onto his shoulder as your eyes shut and eyebrows squeezed together at the simulation, breathing out curses and moans you left gushes of cum pouring out of your.

“Fuck―uh―keep going, fuck!” there it was, already looking completely fucked out and coming undone infront of him. His eyes were watching his fingers disappearing inside you, biting his own lip as he felt it all.

He grinned at the cum all over his hand, “Great job.”

Taking that cum and rubbing it onto his length, pulling on it― getting himself ready as if he wasn’t hard as a fucking rock already. Pulling away from you, letting your arms drop down against the comforter. He pulled his pants off completely, alongside with his underwear. Nearly cumming again from the sight of his sculpted body, fully nude in front of you. 

“We’re not done yet, ready to go again?” He murmurs as he was paying a whole lot of attention to your swollen pussy.

“Of course I’m ready,” You breathed, you were so ready to feel that thick cock inside of you.

Chuckling, and letting out a low response he got to it. Placing your thighs on the sides of his waist, pulling you down to meet his hips. Pulling on his soaked cock he lined it against your already clenched whole, from the mere sight and though of him inside.

Rubbing the head up and down the slit, avoiding your clit, he pushed his hips forward feeling the head slip in a bit before pulling out and doing the same thing, “Stop teasing me.”

You whined, pouting at him. His lips curved, “You’re going to need to stop clenching then, it’s never going to go in like this.”

Rolling your eyes, settling onto your elbows you breathed slowly trying your best to stop clenching before he’s even inside, letting out a deep breath Jungkook began pushing in again but now not stopping once the head in nearly all the way in. Gasping at the feeling of fullness you held onto his forearms, squeezing, reassuring him to go on.

Thrusting up fully, and roughly, bottoming out against you. You let out a pitched gasp as he groaned, head dropping onto your shoulder. Letting you set yourself, you squeezed his arm again― he nodded against your shoulder, placing a wet open mouthed kiss against it before pulling out nearly all the way and thrusting. Your body shaking at every thrust, he held your waist to keep you in place. Dropping your head back moaning, he took the chance to suck on your neck drowning out his own moans.

Your legs wrapped around him, keeping him close you could feel him going faster, he must’ve been close. Beads of sweat rolling down him, you let out a loud whimper, “I’m close.”

“Yea? Fuck, I am too.” He looks up at you. Taking the opportunity of both being close, you wrapped your hands around his cheeks keeping his face up looking at you.

Your eyes opening and closing to his thrusting, moaning for him to see, watching his dark eye glazing over your lips. Your hand brushing against the string of the patch, Jungkook took your expression and reached his hand up to pull it off. His eyes both narrowing into you, you felt as if this was extremely thoughtful― seemed like an extremely big gesture to reveal something he was hiding from everyone.

Taking his lips you wet your tongue against his, sucking and pulling. Moaning into his mouth as your high came again, this one inside your core. His own choked breath you felt through his lips, pulling away you gasped.

“Come on then, cum for me,” He said.

His voice was enough to trigger your entire body to shiver, feeling the tinge and spike at your core. His thick cock holding that clenching making the sensation so much more heightened. Letting yourself go completely, visibly shaking in his arms. Eyes shutting and feeling it all.

He raced for his high not long after, using your high to help himself. Within a single loud groan you felt him fill you up completely. He was completely bottomed out inside you feeling your clenching and his throbbing cock inside you, both your cum filling you up.

As you both caught your breaths and came down from your high, he gently pulled out watching as the cum spilled out. What a sight. He rubs your thighs sensually before getting up.

Relaxing against your tower of pillows you stretched, feeling the cracks in your back and relief of the sounds. Watching Jungkook as he wondered around your room, “What are you doing?”

He perked up, turning to you. His body showing off his plump ass and softening cock, “Uh, towels?”

You let out a laugh before pointing towards the dresser where his blazer was, he nods and moves towards it, pulling out the first towel he sees. Getting back on the bed, his knees digging into the duvet, his weight completely shifting you. Holding onto his arm as he bounced around. He breathed an apology for being so rough, for jumping on the bed like that, you shook your head not really caring about it.

He wiped away the leftovers of your passionate fucking. Tossing the towel away as he captured your lips again. His tongue poking at your lips wanting entry.

“Baby girl, don’t be like that,” He pouts, looking much cuter now without the eyepatch. You chuckled at his pouting, a finger brushing over the red hair covering his eye. Purple and blue neon lights, reflecting against his eye. He swallowed, watching as you stared at the eye he kept hidden before.

“I don’t understand why you hide it,” You muttered, poking at the puffy bags under his eye instead of paying much attention to the eye.

He smiled, genuinely, “I don’t either, people think I have prosthetics in them,” shrugging before continuing, “I don’t, it’s just the colour― it kinda bothers me.”

Humming as you looked at it, the bottom half seemed normal, just brown like the other yet the top part was blue with specs of gray, “Did something bad happen to it?”

He shook his head, brushing your hair over your shoulder― placing another kiss on it, right at where he left a mark, “Something like that, it’s weird, huh?”

“Weird? No, it’s probably the most normal thing about you,” You replied, watching as he gave you a confused look.

Continuing on, as it seemed he needed the explanation, “You changed your body so much, from organic body parts that you lost into bionic parts instead of living with it. Whilst with this eye, you could’ve easily gotten it removed and changed even with organic parts yet you kept it. In a way, keeping the memory of it becoming that way, living with it. You tell me you’re not human, but you are. Being human is being able to adapt and live with whatever happens with you, even if you’ve had other things done, you kept something that everyone can see.”

An impressed huff left his lips, he grinned as he met your eyes again, “And yet during your ‘job’ they tell you to keep your mouth shut.”

“They’re just scared of how smart you are, how human you are, aren’t they?” He brushed his fingers against your jaw.

Blinking at him, letting your lips curve, “Maybe, though I don’t usually talk this much to anyone.”

“I guess I’m special,” He replies. Chuckling you hit his shoulder, he pretended that it hurt and rubs it, before his expression changes.

“So,” He flexes his back and straightens up, “Would you consider going outside with me?”

Furrowing your eyebrows as you looked out into the night, “What do you mean? I don’t think I can do that―”

“I think you can, I have you for the entire night.”

Watching him hop out the bed and throw his clothes back on in effort to make you agree, sighing at it knowing that leaving this room with this man would forever change you, it would change your life― whether it be for the better or worse, nothing was stopping you from taking the risk.

“Alright.”

c. 2018

[shootwinterfest]

Happy Hunting

Shoot Secret Santa Gift by @lizburnz!

The navigation system chimes, “You have reached your destination,” and Shaw mashes on the brakes, simultaneously as she cuts the wheel.

The car screeches to a halt, slanted in a parallel spot, ridden halfway up the curb in front of some apartment buildings and a few startled pedestrians. She slams the gear into park and bolts before the tire smoke even has a chance to settle. Anything else vehicular related is irrelevant now, as she leaves the door hanging wide open and the engine still running. 

Root needs her- needs her help. With what? Specifically, Shaw doesn't know, but the short text with more exclamation points than words seemed pretty damn urgent. And since Root's phone has been going straight to voice mail ever since, she believes the threat to be serious, something that requires a second gun and Shaw's most preferred method of intervention. Shooting. 

But the neighborhood is quiet. Well, not that it shouldn't be, this early on a Saturday morning, but when Root's involved in anything there's usually some degree of chaos. Oddly, nothing seems to be out of place. No smoke means no fire, no screaming means no gunshots have recently gone off. The only person running like their life depended on it, is Shaw, who's starting to wonder if she's even at the right place. 

But it is the right place. 314 Avenue C. And Shaw knows this because it says so. Right there on the door. Behind Root. 

The woman who cried wolf lounges casually at the foot of the stoop, without a scratch on her head or a single care in the world. And though Shaw is somewhat relieved by the sight of neither dead nor dying Root, it doesn't make her any less perturbed, being pulled out of bed at the brink of dawn because someone can't quite grasp what constitutes an emergency. 

Shaw drags her feet the rest of the way, shoving her hands deep into her coat pockets so Root can't see how tightly they're balled into fists. She doesn't want to do anything she might regret, like punch a certain grin off a certain someone's face. Not until she has a valid reason at least. 

“Good morning,” Root sing songs in her usual pleasant way. 

“What is it this time?” Shaw asks, bypassing formalities completely. The faster she gets to the point, the faster she can turn down whatever it is and go home. 

“Let's see...” Root glances to the imaginary watch on her wrist. “Fifty-eight city blocks in less than twelve minutes. Wow, Shaw! I think you broke your old record.”

Shaw's eyes flutter into the back of her head. “Why am I here, Root?”

“Isn't that the age old question?” Root ambles to her feet with a large cup of coffee in hand. “Whole milk. No sugar. Just the way you like it,” she says, extending it towards a wary Shaw. 

Whether it's a hot cup-o-bribery or a peace offering, Shaw isn't sure, but she takes it anyway. “You know, this doesn't even begin to make up for-”

“Do you like hunting?” Root asks peculiarly and out of nowhere. 

Shaw just blinks. There isn't enough caffeine in this coffee, or in the entire city of New York, to help prepare her for the roller coaster that is Root's cryptics. 

The first thing that comes to mind is fugitive tracking of course, a literal man hunt. Now that, Shaw could get on on board with. But knowing Root, it's probably nothing so obvious and easy. It's two very different things, what Shaw thinks and what Root actually means. 

“It depends,” Shaw says, reluctant to commit without details first. She's learned the hard way too many times before. “What the target is... if I can shoot them... but mostly, my mood.”

“And...” Root leans in on the tips of her toes, “What kind of mood do you currently find yourself in this lovely day?”

“The pistol whipping kind of mood if you don't cut the crap and tell me what you want.”

Root pouts half-heartedly, slipping a piece of paper from her coat pocket, to which Shaw snatches and unfolds. Written on it, in barely legible hacker scrawl, is a list of addresses that still do everything but answer Shaw's question. 

“They're apartments,” Root clarifies. “I need your help finding one.”

A map could do a better job. Hell, Root's practically got a GPS system and then some squawking in her ear. But maybe it's more than that, Shaw thinks. Maybe there's a bomb planted in one, or a missing person tied to a radiator. Looking closer at the list, she finds a four digit number beside each address. Next to that, some kind of code... 2/1 1700SF W/D... 

But it isn't until Shaw reads the part about “no pets” that she shoves the paper back at Root. 

“This is why you 911'd me? To help you house hunt!” Shaw says, gaping in amazement. “Are you out of your damn mind?”

Root throws her an obvious look. 

“I thought you were...” Hurt. Dying. Both. The potential of either could light a fire of apocalyptic proportions under Shaw's ass, and Root seems to relish the fact. “Do you know how many traffic laws I just broke?”

Root shrugs. “All of them, I imagine.”

Shaw deadpans her for a moment, mystified as she internally debates whether or not she should spoil her knuckles today with an all you can beat buffet of Root's face. Shaw nearly mowed down a group of tourists crossing the street, sideswiped about a dozen parked cars, ran every single red light while doing quadruple the speed limit. For christsake, she car jacked someone at gunpoint. And for what? For the exciting, once in a lifetime mission of finding analogue-interfull-of-shit a place to live?

“Happy hunting,” Shaw eventually says and turns heel in the opposite direction. And of course it isn't the last word. Root follows on her heals and whines in her wake, with things like please and wait and a few pet names she isn't allowed to call Shaw in public. 

“You're bored, I get it,” Shaw tells her in stride. “The Machine gave you the day off, so instead of annoying relevant numbers, you've decided to annoy me instead. I get it.”

“No, that isn't-” Root groans in frustration. “Will you please just hear me out?” and she hooks an arm around Shaw's to stop her. “I called you because, one, I value your opinion. And two, I thought you'd like to be a part of a mutually beneficial decision.”

“How in the world does this benefit me?”

“Think of it like this. The sooner I get a key to my own place, the sooner you can have yours back,” Root says and places an encouraging hand on Shaw's shoulder, which is batted off not a second later when the information is really processed.

“You have a key to my apartment?”

“I made copies.”

“Wait. Copies, plural?” As in more than one? “Seriously, Root. What the fuck.”

“Look, we can stand here, arguing semantics for the next 45 seconds until your stolen vehicle is swarmed by cops, plural, or...” Root jingles a set of car keys like a carrot on a stick. “I'll even let you drive,” she adds, and Shaw doesn't have much time to mull it over, not with all the sirens wailing in the distance. 

“Fine,” Shaw finally agrees, though it was a tough decision to make. The back seat of a squad car or Root's- where is her car? 

She presses the clicker and follows the faint little beep across the street, to where the vintage muscle car sits. Not just any muscle car though, a cherry red, 1967 Mustang twin turbo V8 in pristine condition. And Shaw knows this, because it looks just like the car Harold has, locked in his garage. The one he brags about all the time, having spent years restoring it to near mint. The one he never drives or lets anyone else drive, for the matter. 

“How'd you get Finch to lend you his car?” Shaw asks, quickly realizing how dumb her question sounds aloud. Especially to Root, who just throws her head back and laughs. 

…

The first stop of the list is on the upper east side, to a twenty something story apartment building fitted with a starch press suited doorman and a security guard station, which Shaw deems is more for appearances sake. Armed with walkies, flashlights, and pens for the sign in sheet, they let Root and Shaw breeze right by with their fake ID's and concealed weapons.

It's no surprise when Root hits the “P” for penthouse button in the elevator. She's not exactly the humble type, or one to underplay any sort of small endeavor.

A well dressed blonde woman greets them right off the elevator, shining a permanent smile of all veneer that never lets up even while she speaks. Root gingerly accepts the pamphlet offered, glossing over it as she absently wanders about the main living area, which is two times bigger than Shaw's entire apartment. And white. All white. The carpets, the walls, even the staging furniture. Lord forbid anyone so much as whisper the words red wine or tomato sauce, or in Root's predictable case, blood. 

“Seems nice,” Root says while Shaw shuffles alongside like a bored child. 

“Then buy it.” The sooner Root signs the deal, the sooner she can get back to her regularly scheduled program of having absolutely nothing to do on her day off. 

“The master bath apparently has a built in sauna...” Root gives her a little nudge, “Guess how many settings the smart shower has?”

“Enough to replace me.”

“Not likely,” but then Root lowers the pamphlet in introspect. “Unless I could program it to be mean to me...”

“Ha. Ha.”

“I'm gonna have a look around.”

“And I...” Shaw scans the room, searching for the oasis in this desert of white hell, “...will see you later,” and she branches off towards the refreshment table.

It's probably the best thing about an open house. Well, if you're Shaw and you have no intent on buying anything. The free food. And not just tired old finger sandwiches either. The last time Shaw's seen a spread like this, she was undercover at a political fundraiser for what's his name running for office of who cares. 

Shaw sips a bellini from a flute as she grazes the table, helping herself to a little of this and that. At some point she does make threatening eye contact with the foolish person who tried reaching for the last salmon wrap, but all is pleasant and well for the most part. She get's to explore her pallet, Root gets to explore the apartment. A win-win so far in her book. 

“God! You wont believe the offer that tacky-khaki couple just proposed.”

Inconspicuously, Shaw glances a little ways to her right. The fake toothed woman who greeted them earlier stands with another, conversing in whispers and hushed voices. Well they'd like to believe no one else can hear them.

“An open house... what was Harriet thinking? Letting anyone waltz in off the street?”

“We'll have to fumigate when this is over.”

“Would you look at all the riff-raff?”

Shaw follows the acrylic red finger nail as it not so discretely flicks across the room. Of all the people scattered about the living area, she decides to pick out Root. 

“What do you think her net worth is?”

“If that ugly leather jacket's anything to go by. I saw holes in it.”

“And the hair...

“I like her boots though...”

“So did I- five seasons ago!”

Their annoying laughter eventually fades into the violin music, but Shaw's temper continues on it's high note. In her head, she's already plotted half the steps towards their accidental deaths, because no one – no one – is allowed to talk crap about Root. Except for Shaw, that is. 

And under any other circumstance, she'd just go over there and confront the two women with a lesson in manners. Incidentally, fists are a great learning tool for most people. 

Oh, but where would that get her? Wanted by the police, probably, if that little car jacking stunt didn't already land a warrant for her arrest. But it would be fun, well fun for Shaw, to give those rent-a-cops downstairs a run for their money. 

No, she eventually decides. There are more subtle ways to exact revenge. 

She sidles over to the group of young hipsters first, who have gathered by the fire place pretending to admire the brickwork. 

“Did one heck of a clean up on this place, huh?” she says, cutting into their conversation at just the right moment. 

They turn to her with mixed expressions. “What do you mean?” one of them asks. 

Shaw leans in. “Oh, you don't know?” she says in a hushed voice, so secretive and curious, it demands the group's undivided attention. All but one.

The guy with thick rimmed glasses just scoffs at her. “What? Did some dude die here or something?”

“More like dudes. Plural,” Shaw replies and glasses guy stops laughing. “A few months back, this tech company was having their big launch party here. Well, during the party, one of the partners totally loses it and I mean loses it. I heard, it was because the other partners were trying to cut him out... guess he thought he'd beat them to it.” and she unfolds the rest of the scene, in graphic detail with complementary stabbing gestures. To the point, a few of them turn a sickly shade of pale. 

But glasses guy, the apparent leader of the pack, needs more convincing. 

“Come on! How do you not remember this?” Shaw says, and name drops a famous New York magazine that all the people like them claim to read but never do. 

And suddenly, him and the rest of the group are singing a different tune, nodding their heads and collectively muttering things like: Oh yes, I remember that article and Such a tragedy and It's too bad, I heard they were really up and coming... 

“Yeah.” Shaw gazes solemnly at the fireplace. “That's where they found the head... threw it like it was a bowling ball.”

Like before, they stare at the fireplace. Albeit, in utter silence and for new and morbid reasons now, but Shaw takes it as her cue to move on. 

And move on she does, to the pleasant older couple standing by themselves in the kitchen, which is also bigger than Shaw's apartment as well. They look a bit out of place. Suburban, perhaps midwestern. Shaw isn't sure just yet, but they definitely aren't like the rest of the people who live here. 

“Excuse me,” Shaw says, all smile and cheer. “I couldn't help but notice, you two aren't from around here, are you?”

“Oh, heavens no!” The woman replies. Her accent is unmistakably southern and thick as molasses. “We're visiting our daughter. She just graduated from NYU!”

“Edna, you don't gotta tell everyone we meet,” the husband grumbles. “Hell, half of New York City knows by now.”

“No, it's fine,” Shaw politely reassures them. “You two must be very proud. Are you looking to move here as well, or?”

The woman side eyes the man. “Well, I would like to... It'd be nice to live closer to our little girl. Not  to mention the broadway... But Richard here's an old stick in the mud.” she leans in to whisper only to Shaw, “He doesn't take to change very well.” The man grumbles again. 

“I totally understand. When I first moved here, it took me a while to get acclimated. I mean, the first time I was mugged-”

“You were mugged?” The woman clasps her chest. “Oh, you poor thing!”

“Yeah, well,” she shrugs, “You get used to it. After a dozen times or so it's just like muscle memory. Wallet, phone, jewelry, please don't kill me.” Shaw acts it out like a routine. The grand finale, pulling the bottom of her shirt. “I was stabbed a block away from here, wanna see the scar?”

Their southern manners come to a full stop and they leave without so much as a goodbye or a bless your heart. Filled with a sense of crudely gained accomplishment, Shaw blows the smoke from the imaginary barrel of her imaginary gun and sets her sights on other targets. 

One by one, they're taken out. She tells the uptight newly weds the apartment had been used as a movie set for prestigious films such as Gang-Bangs of New York, and One Fuck Over the Cuckhold's Nest, and Forrest Hump. 

The leader of the co-op board has a portrait of Hitler hanging in his foyer. The neighbor downstairs is prone to clanging pots and pans at odd hours of the night because the voices tell her to. The walls are coated with so much lead paint, the apartment could double as a fallout shelter from radiation. And the whole building is haunted by failed venture capitalists, Shaw said to another person, and when his back was turned, she flickered the light switches. 

And alright, that last one was mediocre at best, she admits. But in her defense, the one too many bellinis were starting to kick in a that point and she was running out of material. Thankfully, Root had come full circle by then, finished with her browsing. 

“What do you think?”

“I heard the foundation's crumbling-” Shaw covers her mouth, pushing back the bubbly. “Whole place is gonna level in like a year.”

Root flashes her a look of disbelief, “That's absurd,” and returns to the brochure in hand. “I think it's pretty nice,” she says, and goes on and on about all the nice features and the nice amenities and the nice view.

“You!” 

They look up and see the teethy realtor clomping her heels in their direction. “Aw, shit,” Shaw whispers when the woman turns her pointed red nail to her this time.

“Just where the hell do you get off! I lost potential buyers because of you!”

Shaw blinks, unfazed by this woman practically yelling in her face. However, Root's rather confused, bordering the edge of worried. 

“What is she talking about?” Root asks, one of her hands sliding to the taser tucked in the back of her pants. Hovering, like she's unsure whether or not it's going to be necessary in the next ten seconds.  

“I don't know,” Shaw replies with an innocent shrug at first, until she completely abandons the concept of an inside voice. “Must be all the asbestos in the air!” she shouts and the rest of the room, the few people she hadn't managed to scare off, they all clam up and turn bug eyed in their direction. 

For a moment, the realtor panics and her fake smile returns to settle the crowd. “You need to leave!” she says through gritted teeth. “Both of you need to leave, immediately!”

“Way ahead of ya, sister.” Shaw says and calls out over her shoulder, “Wouldn't want to get a stupid thing like lung cancer or anything!” At this point, Root looks like she's going to taser Shaw instead. 

“Let's go, Sameen,” she says, perturbed and not in a mild way, judging from grip she has on Shaw's elbow. 

And still... “Really, you think they'd shell out a few extra bucks to remove hazardous materials from the walls!” Shaw manages one last time before she's shoved into the elevator.

Root jabs the lobby button and the doors close. She turns to Shaw with a myriad of emotions, some embarrassment, a little confusion, but mostly anger in her eyes. Shaw can feel them boring into the side of her face.

“What?” Shaw eventually shrugs. “Something you wanna say, Root?”

Root crosses her arms, tightly over her chest. “Something you wanna say, Shaw?”

Shaw rolls her eyes to the top of the door, watching the floor numbers fall on the screen for moment before clearing her throat. “Your hair looks nice today.”

…

Miles later in Midtown...

Together, they loiter the sidewalk in front of the next apartment Root might potentially rent, if the realtor ever decides to make an appearance. They've been waiting over a half an hour now. 

“What's taking so long?” Shaw asks, again. 

“Traffic, probably.” Root shrugs. She doesn't seem to mind the waiting as much as Shaw does. Then again, she doesn't have anywhere else to be. And neither does Shaw, but that's besides the point. Tardiness is just unprofessional. 

“Call them.”

“I've already called five times,” Root tells her. “No one's picking up.”

“When?” Shaw asks. She hadn't seen Root touch her phone at all. 

Root just taps the shell of the cochlear implant hiding beneath her hair. Oh yes, how could have Shaw forgotten, the ethereal blue tooth connection to robot overlord. 

“I still don't understand why the Machine couldn't help you with this,” Shaw says to her. “Seems it'd be a heck of a lot easier. Beep boop beep... an apartment appears.”

Root smirks at her sideways, “You know that's not how it works.” 

“Why not? I mean, she can make up elaborate identities for you, reposition satellites in orbit for you-”

“She can also tell me how many times you've watched Eat, Pray, Love... this month.”

Shaw glares to the side of Root's face trying, and failing to keep the amusement all to herself. But she's distracted for a moment, there's a passerby who's taking too long to pass by Harold's car. “Keep moving! So her abilities fall just short of finding her favorite asset a place to live?”

“She wants me to be more...” Root chews the inside of her cheek, “Independent, was the word she used.”

For once, Shaw's in agreement with Root's girlfriend. 

“I'm pretty sure this is the exact opposite of what she meant,” Shaw teases. That is unless, the definition of independence changed over night and no one bothered to say anything. 

“She also thinks we don't spend enough quality time together,” Root quickly adds, casually with a flip of her hair. 

“Yeah, right,” Shaw scoffs at that. She'd like to know what the Machine would have to say about being  slandered and used as a pawn for Root's own projections. “We spend lots of time together. Too much if you ask me.”

“Numbers don't count.”

“You come over all the time,” Shaw argues. Root just lets herself right in, with all those keys she's made.

“Sex doesn't count either.”

“Then what- Hey buddy! You wanna lose that hand!” Shaw shouts at a particularly touchy admirer of Harold's car. “What does count?” she finally asks. Really, she wants to know, how she can possibly spread her time thinner than it already is. “Does this count?”

Root thinks about it for a moment. “I'm not sure yet. But I'll let you know.”

“Right.” Shaw shakes her head; Root can be impossible at times. The 'issue' can go on the back burner for now, Shaw decides. They've got to move forward with the day, which is no longer dependent on the no-show realtor. 

The front door of the building is locked, go figure, but that doesn't repel Shaw. There's an intercom system right beside it with dozens of names, each having their own call button. Shaw mashes all of them and waits. 

In no time does the speaker crackle with static and slews of voices, speaking all at once in a melody of Hello? Who is it? and What the fuck do you want?

“Time Warner Cable,” Shaw says into the box and almost immediately, a buzzer goes off and unlocks the door. Shaw opens it and turns to Root still waiting on the sidewalk. “You coming or what?”

Root leads her upstairs and down the short hallway. “This is the one,” she says, pointing to the lock for Shaw to pick, which she does so effortlessly.

The inside is just as bland as the outside. The walls are coated in a neutral beige color that matches the carpet in all the rooms. A single bedroom, an eat in kitchen, a reasonably sized living area with a few windows and an okay view of the coffee shop all these midtowners mill about. And that's pretty much it. Though, Shaw thinks that was Martha Stewart crossing the intersection. 

“I don't hate it,” Root sums up, having toured the entire place in less than a minute. 

“But you don't like it either.”

“Eh.” Root shrugs. “It's just hard to picture myself living here, without my things.”

An idea pops into Shaw's head. “Okay, how about...” she thinks aloud and surveys the area. “Your desk can be here, in the living room, since you don't watch TV anyways...” She moves to the kitchen next. “You can put a little cafe table here... coffee pot here... and hey look, extra cabinet space for things that aren't cooking related.”

“I know how to cook, Shaw.”

“Name one time you cooked anything,” Shaw asks, but immediately stops Root the second her mouth opens. “Let me rephrase. Cooked anything that wasn't eventually used as tear gas.”

“Okay, you've got me there,” Root concedes. “Please continue.”

Shaw leads her to the bedroom. “The bed can go here. Nightstand with the lava lamp right next to it. Dresser here. Bean bag- if you still want it, there. The closet's kinda small... you'll have to get rid of a few jackets, but-”

“Wait,” Root interrupts. “Go back to the part about the bed.”

Shaw back tracks a few steps. “The bed goes here and-”

“Right here?” Root asks, edging closer and closer. 

And Shaw's so distracted with her fake floor plan, she thinks nothing of it. She doesn't realize Root's been methodically backing her into the wall until her back actually hits the wall. 

“And, what do you imagine we'd be doing on this bed, Sameen?” Her voice drops an octave in Shaw's ear, tingling like those fingertips skirting the inside hem of her jeans. 

“I can think of a few things...” Shaw whispers, tracing the heat radiating from Root's lips inches away from her own. “On this bed, and then, that bureau over there.”

Root flashes a grin and presses it to Shaw's, briefly though. The kiss was only a ruse to take Shaw's lip between her teeth and tease some more before letting go. “I want you to know...” Root sighs as her hands circle around Shaw's wrists, “I'm really sorry about this.”

What that means? Shaw doesn't know. She barely had time to process anything Root said, because as soon as Root said it, she was spun around and pinned to wall with her arms locked behind her back. 

“Whatthafuck!”

“Just go with it sweetie,” Root tells her, and not a second later do they hear footsteps coming down the hall and a man's voice calling out shakily. “Hello? Is someone there?”

He double takes when he sees them, his face conveying a look of surprise and slight fear for his life. “What's going on here? Who are you?”

“Special Agent Augusta King,” Root announces. As swiftly as she got the jump on Shaw, her free hands whips out a black leather bound badge that says FBI. “We received an anonymous tip about a wanted criminal hiding out in the building.”

“Here? In this building?” the man stutters in shock.

“Are you the tipper, sir?” Root asks, meanwhile, zip tying Shaw's wrists together for the bonus effect. So tight, Shaw thinks she's actually in trouble with the federal government. 

“No, I live next door, I was just going-”

“So you heard suspicious activity from the vacant apartment right next to you and didn't think to report it?” Root says, catching him off guard. “Sir, are you aware that harboring a fugitive of the law is a felony offense?”

Shaw grumbles, “Like impersonating a-” 

Root silences her with a good shove.

“Woah, wait a minute,” the man backs away, hands up in defense. “I had no idea she was- I wouldn't harbor anything!”

“You'll be hearing from my offices.” Root begins escorting Shaw out into the hallway, pausing to glare at the man as she passes. “Don't leave town.”

By the time they exit the front door, Shaw is more than done with the whole charade. Immediately, she shirks out of Roots grip, fuming slightly as she strains for the folding knife in her back pocket. “I can't believe you- no wait, I can!” The zip tie snaps free after a bit of sawing.

“I'm not the one who left the door wide open.”

The few choice words bubbling in the back of Shaw's throat, simmer down. Root's right. She did leave the door open. Like some kind of fucking amateur. She rubs her sore wrists, bitter. “What are you still doing with that thing anyway?”

“I don't know.” Root jogs the badge in her hands. “It does come in handy though.”

Shaw shakes her head. From the corner of her eyes, she notices a suspicious group of hoodlums beginning to circle Harold's car like vultures on a carcass. 

“Gimme that!” Shaw snatches the goddamn badge out of Root's hands and flips it out with an, “FBI! Freeze!” The little bastards bolt in all directions, and Shaw hums to herself. “How come I never got one of these?” 

…

Later and lower on the east side...

Jerri, a fast talking woman from Queens who looks like Fusco's sister, hustles them up the stairs of a run down walk up. The bellinis Shaw guzzled earlier threaten to make a second appearance as they round the landing of floor number six. More so when she sidesteps a ragged baby doll lying in a questionable pool of something awful slicked on the floor. 

“Not much further,” the woman tells them. “Just a few more floors!”

“She said that- three floors ago!” Shaw huffs in tow.

“Try to keep up, Shaw,” Root says, jogging the steps with ease, at a steady rhythm that's utterly baffling. Considering Shaw's never seen her so physically active at something that didn't involve

“Coming...” Shaw grumbles and picks up the pace. She reaches the top floor well behind them, out of breath. “I gotta start working out again.”

Jerri pulls out a ring of keys bigger than a steering wheel and starts sifting through them. “It's gotta be one of these,” she says and tries a few but to no avail. “Doh!” she smacks her forehead. “Silly me, we went too high! It's two floors down!”

Shaw deadpans. “Are you fu-” Root jabs her with an elbow, “Funny! Aren't you just funny!” 

“Down we go!” Jerri cheers, waving at them to follow her once again. Shaw wouldn't follow this woman if she were the most relevant number of her career. But Root insists, so she has no choice but trudge back down the stairs. 

The door, the right one this time, it looks like it was breached with a battering ram and glued back together. It sticks as Jerri tries to push it open. Shaw wishes she hadn't been able to unjar it from the frame, when they finally step foot inside.

Cramped is an understatement. Claustrophobia is an increasing possibility for Shaw as they stand shoulder to shoulder in what the realtor calls a studio apartment. More like a closet. 

“Why don't I give you the grand tour!” Jerri says. 

Shaw turns her head left, then right, then back again. “I think I've just had it.”

“Oh, she's hysterical! Does she do stand up?”

“Only when she can't sit down.” Shaw wriggles free of the pair for more space, but doesn't get much. The square footage of this place barely pushes the three digit realm. 

The detail Jerri goes into as she tries to upsell this apartment gives Shaw the idea, she's either the most optimistic woman in the world or the biggest hustler in New York real estate. And if it's the latter, Root's the most patient mark, letting this con artist finish her entire spiel of blatant lies. 

“Look Root, I'm in the living room, kitchen, and bathroom. At the same time.”

“I think what my friend is trying to say-”

“Her friend...” Shaw interrupts, until she realizes that Root didn't actually put the word girl in front of friend first. For once. “Never mind, carry on.”

“There just isn't a lot of space,” Root puts delicately. 

“Space? There's plenty of space!” Jerri fires back, jazzed and sorts. “What this place lacks in size, it makes for in compartmentalization!” and she goes on to show them, the hidden cabinets in the in the walls, the drawers underneath the diagonal slant in the staircase frame. “And!” she claps her hands together before grabbing the the lonely painting from the wide wall. Underneath is a latch like rope, which she pulls. “Tada!”

A bed flops out of the wall and Shaw stares at it, unblinkingly. “You've got to be kidding me.”

“May we have a moment please?” Root says, and Jerri the realtor goes into the kitchen, two feet away. 

Shaw whispers to Root. “This whole thing is one bad pullout joke. You can't actually be serious.”

“So what?” Root replies. “It's not like I'll be around to mind it so much.”

“Well, I mind it!” 

Root smiles as she bats her lashes. “Planning sleepovers already?”

“Not if I have to unhinge the bed every time I wanna-”

“Want to what, exactly?” Root teases, for a moment, until Shaw's dead serious face hits home. “Okay, okay.” She clears her throat for Jerri to end her fake phone call. “Do you have anything else available?”

“Preferably not coffin-sized,” Shaw adds. 

It's like a light bulb flickers over Jerri's head. She frantically searches through the mess of sordid papers in her haphazardly thrown together briefcase until she finds the one. The holy grail of documents, she holds it up. “Yes!” she exclaims at first, then presses it to her chest, distraught. “No, I don't! Technically, the application's still pending and I can't show you.”

“Come on, Jerri,” Root says, putting on half her charm. “We just wanna look. Where's the harm in that?”

She gives it some thought. Not much. “Oh, what the heck? You've convinced me. It's only three floors down, come on, I'll show you.”

“Let's hope she's got the right building at least,” Shaw says and Jerri bursts in laughter. 

“Honey, if your job doesn't involve a stage and microphone, you gotta change careers because you are-”

“Hysterical?” 

…

The other apartment is nothing like the previous. It's as if they've slipped into an alternate universe on the stairwell, because there's no possible way this is the same building. Root's in awe the moment she walks in, her eyes lighting up in a way Shaw's never seen before, well, when it comes to this sort of thing. 

Crown molding lines the walls, coated in a scheme of rich blues soft whites. The long paneled windows that stretch from the living room all the way to the kitchen fill the spacious interior with honest light. And the view, Shaw's never considered Midtown to be a scenic place. Then again, she wasn't looking through this window. 

“You've been holding out on us, Jerri,” Shaw tells her. For the first time today, she approves.  

“About that other application,” Root says, “What if you accidentally misplaced it?”

“Say no more, sweetheart.” Jerri bats a hand. “My family's from Sicily. I know all about that sort of thing. We'll go to my office, lose some paperwork, sign some paperwork, have ya in here in no time,” she says, and starts ushering them towards the door. Quickly, adamantly. Suspiciously. 

“Wait,” Shaw says. There's something missing, something she's not telling them. “What's the catch?”

“Catch? What catch? You two look like a nice couple, I wanna cut you a break, that's the catch.”

“We're not-” Shaw rubs the bridge of her nose. “Look, no offense, but this is all too good to be true.” There's got to be something wrong with it, Shaw can feel it in her bones. Shit plumbing, rats in the walls, a weird smell that only comes around during certain times of the day. Something. 

“Listen, I got pristine records going back thirty years on this place. You can take a look for yourselves, but we gotta go down to my office fir-”

“Shh!” Shaw holds a finger up, silencing the room. “Did you hear that?” Her ears keen to the faint, muffled noises. “It's coming from the living room.”

“Yeah, you know what,” Jerri hastily explains in Shaw's wake. “I know what that is. The neighbors are redoing their kitchen. On a Saturday, can you believe it?”

Shaw ignores her and presses her ear to the wall, listening for the noise that seems to have gone away now.

“See? What'd I tell ya? Now if you don't mind, I-”

There's a loud crash suddenly. Something had smacked against the other side of the wall with such force, it rattled the hanging lights and shook the floor. 

Shaw slowly backs away as more, lesser thumps follow. Steadily, like a beat from a drum. And not seconds later, the moaning starts. Unmistakably from a man and oddly, a very strict sounding woman who seems rather disappointed in him.

“And...” Shaw turns to Root with her I told you so face. “there's the catch.”

“Rent controlled nymphos...” Jerri hisses and then smacks the wall, “Hey! Some of us are trying to work over here! Not that you care! Can't go one minute without screwing each other's brains out! Literally!”

“Are they?” Curiosity in her eyes, Root steps closer to have a listen for herself, and it's completely unnecessary. With walls so thin and neighbors so loud, she could stand in any room and still hear all the graphic details of their sexcapades. So it's really a bit extra of Root to flatten the whole side of her face against the wall like that. “Oh, Jerri, you have been holding out on us.”

Shaw rolls her eyes, “Come on, we're leaving,” and takes Root by the arm.

“No, Shaw wait! It's getting better!” Root protests as she's literally dragged to the door. “Shaw, I heard a paddle!”

….

The end in East Village.

“I don't think I've ever heard the word charming used to describe so many not charming things in my life,” Shaw says. She fiddles with the butter knife at the table while she waits for her order. They decided- well, Shaw insisted they stop for a late lunch, and the Russian owned deli on 7th was the closest eatery that wasn't a letter grade away from being quarantined. “How is a giant water stain on the ceiling charming?”

“Depends on how you look at it,” Root replies, her head in the piece of paper lain on the table top. She's been scribbling on it since they sat down. The list from earlier today looks nothing like it did, crumpled up, torn at the edges and for some reason, wet. Nearly all of the address had been crossed out, angrily by the look of it. 

Shaw twirls the utensil in her fingers. “I thought it looked like Margaret Thatcher.”

“I'm not getting sucked into this argument again.” Root draws another x over something and brings the pen to her lips, chewing at the end. “It was Barbara Bush anyway...”

Shaw snatches the paper from Root's unsuspecting hands. 

“Hey I need that,” Root says. Her attempts of retrieving it are all in vain. “Shaw, I still haven't decided which one I- where did you get those glasses?”

“Glove box,” Shaw replies, lifting the shades from her eyes to squint at the paper. “Didn't think I could get a hangover before I fell asleep.”

“Can I have it back, please? It's important.”

Shaw throws the glasses aside. “Root, these are all crap. You know this.”

“But I need to pick one.”

“Seriously, have you never gone apartment shopping before?” Shaw asks. Judging from the look on Root's face, she hasn't. “Root. Just make a new list.”

She sinks into the booth, whining pitifully. “But I hate this so much, Shaw. Can't I just live with you? Please?” 

Root smiles, full charm this time. And Shaw jumps when she feels something crawling up the length of her thigh. Luckily the waiter comes with the food, so Shaw has a valid excuse for evicting Root's foot from her crotch. 

“Independence.” Shaw reminds her before grabbing the sandwich off of the plate. She's about to take a bite, but pauses midway. An odd feeling had struck her, a feeling like she's being watched and not by a secret system.

Leaned against the wall, slumped in her seat, is Root, staring at Shaw's sandwich with a weird lust in her eyes. If she was hungry, then she should have ordered something. So tough, Shaw thinks, bringing the sandwich to mouth again and goddamnit!

Shaw cuts the fucking thing in half and slides the plate across the table. Root smiles to herself and takes a nibble and then just- chomps down. Shaw can't believe what shes seeing right now.

“This is the best sandwich I've ever had,” Root says, at least that's what Shaw thinks she says. Root's mouth is so full, and yet, she keeps trying to fill it. 

“As a person who's had a lot of sandwiches, I-”

“Shut up and eat it, Shaw!”

Without further protest, Shaw takes a bite. Her eyes roll into the back of her head. “Oh my fucking god.” It is the best sandwich she's ever had. Why is Root right all the time?

“So, tomorrow...” Root manages to swallow the rest without choking. “New day, new list, perhaps a new car even? I heard Harry's got a viper tucked away in cold storage.”

Shaw chews on it. As fun as it was gallivanting around this charming city with Root... she'll have to pass. “Sorry, you're on your own for round two. I'm busy.”

“I checked. You're not.”

What is this? Slow season for criminal activity? “I'm taking a personal day.”

“Fine,” Root says, dabbing with the napkin before it's surly tossed aside. “I'll be wandering Hell's Kitchen tomorrow if you change your mind.”

“Okay, Root.” Shaw snorts, almost choking on her food. “Give your taser a good charge before you do.” She'll definitely need it for that side of town- if she were actually going. 

Shaw's not stupid, she recognized the pattern as soon as she saw the list. All the stops they've made so far today were along the 4 train, which lets off near Subway HQ and coincidentally, right by Shaw's apartment.

They step outside the deli and Shaw gives the place a nod as she slips the glasses back on. The sign is in Russian, and unfortunately, none of it involves the ten words she knows. “Goodbye restaurant I don't know the name of.”

“Actually,” Root says, glancing up at the sign. “It think it says sandwich, well, bread meat bread, but you get the picture.” 

“Hmm.” Shaw shrugs. She's halfway to the car, that better not be stolen, when she notices Root isn't behind her. Doubling back, Shaw finds her standing at the deli's window, staring at a sign that says For Rent – Inquire Within. 

…

They inquire within. 

The owner of the deli; a burly, grey bearded and rather abrasive gentleman named Vlad, throws his dirty apron over his shoulder and yells something wild in Russian to the cooks behind the counter. 

“Come! We go!” he then yells to Root and Shaw, and leads them out and around the building, through several locked doors and up a rickety old freight elevator, all while cursing in his native tongue. And Shaw's sure of this because most of those words he's using, are the same ones she's used to start bar fights overseas. 

“You go, I wait,” Vlad says, and shoos them off the elevator. 

It's was an industrious space converted to a loft by the previous owners. The concrete floors were replaced with dark hard wood for a more domestic feel, but the steel pillars remained. Carved out to one side, the obvious kitchen accustomed with marble counter tops, a range, and a classic style refrigerator. And in the far corner, the porcelain bathroom with the large clawfoot tub, partitioned by a wall of glass blocks. 

Root turns circles, marveling the expanse of open floor plan. “I have no words, Shaw.” 

“I'm shocked,” Shaw replies, but it has nothing to do with this rare real estate gem they've stumbled upon by sheer luck. Root's non-stop motormouth has suddenly run out of fuel and hell has actually frozen over. 

But in the weird trend of today's events, Shaw checks and double checks everything. That the light switches turn on and the water runs from the faucets. She test the sturdiness of the steel beams and the thickness of the walls. She stomps around in her steel toed boots for weak spots in the floor. In the end, everything seems to be in working order. The radiator is blasting heat, the toilet is flushing, and yes, the refrigerator is also running. 

The second Shaw mentions roof access, Root's falling over to make a deal. 

Vlad may be limited in English, but he understands the universal language of money and the giant wad of cash Root suddenly pulls out of her pocket. He shoves a set of keys in her hand and goes off on Russian tangent as he counts the money.

“He says...” Root pauses to listen. “No checks, no cards, rent is cash only...”

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“I did some work for the Russian mob- long story,” Root tells her before she's back to translating. “I'm supposed to put the money in an envelope and slip under his door... on the first of the month, not the second, or... well that doesn't sound very pleasant.”

Shaw's eyes widen some. She tries to ask what the she means by that, but Root shushes her with a raised finger.

“There is one rule... don't bother me. If you do not bother me, I will not bother you and everything will be... cookies and cream?”

“What does that mean?”

“Sorry, I'm a bit rusty.” Root tunes back in, nodding profusely at the last part before he shakes her hand and leaves. 

“What did he just say to you?”

Root turns to her. “He said, My name is Vladimir Baronov Petrovich, and I fix nothing.”

…

A week later... 

Shaw picks up a bottle of wine on the way to Root's. A house warming gift of sorts, or a present depending on how you look at it, though Shaw prefers it as a celebration of mission completion and good things yet to come. 

The days of Root living out of satchels and crashing on couches are finally over, and for some reason, Shaw takes comfort in that. It means things are changing, for the better, she believes. Having a safe, permanent place to lay your head, it means something.

Shaw can hear the faint music playing as she lifts the elevator gate. She expects Root sprung for a decent sound system, something to listen to while she cranes her neck over a computer for hours on end. And maybe she found a nice desk and a comfortable chair like Harold's to sit in while she does, Shaw wonders, as she rounds the corner, quietly. 

Sneaking up on Root is a hit or miss, depending on the Machine's mood. But Shaw hopes she gets to catch Root doing something weird for once, even though she has no idea what that might entail. 

Root's barefoot, sitting cross legged on the floor with a soldering iron, humming to herself. And Shaw thinks it's actually kind of cute- maybe, at least until she finds a better word for it. Which is never. The feeling becomes short lived, the nameless word is moot when she realizes why Root's sitting on the floor. 

She has no goddamn furniture. 

“Love what you haven't done with the place,” Shaw calls out, announcing her presence to Root, who flinches and then smiles bashfully to the wires in her lap. As it turns out, the Machine was in Shaw's favor this evening. It's a rare occurrence to find Root so off guard, with her hair pulled into a loose bun, with little smudges of soot on her shirt and holes in her blue jeans. 

Her walk is still the same, smug saunter as it always is though. Root lets her hair down as she approaches, on purpose Shaw thinks. 

“Welcome. May I take your coat?” Root offers, and Shaw does a bit of casing as she slips her arms free of the sleeves.

It was inaccurate to say Root didn't have any furniture; there's a mattress lying in the middle of the floor beside a steel column. Root had thrown some sheets and pillows on top and called it a bed. Next to that, her other Root things. A laptop, a bag, a few articles of clothing and a cell phone playing the music Shaw had heard earlier. 

“Is that for me?” Root asks, nodding to the bottle of wine in Shaw's hand. 

“Yeah, but uh,” Shaw rubs the back of her neck, glancing again at the great empty space. “I feel like I should have brought a plant or something, or a chair.”

“Busy week,” she says, internally debating where to hang Shaw's jacket, for a moment, until deciding to just throw it on the floor. “Haven't been home much lately-” and then Root laughs, lightly to herself. “It's strange isn't it?” 

“What is?” Shaw asks, halfway to the kitchen for a pair of drinking glasses before she realizes, Root probably doesn't have any of those either. 

“This place, my place... It is supposed to feel this weird?”

“Don't worry, the charm wears off pretty quick. Eventually, it'll be just another Tuesday night where you store all your things.” Shaw flops down on the edge of the mattress. “Correction, thing.”

“Awfully presumptuous of you.” Root teases. 

“Awfully rude of you, not owning a couch.” There are worse problems than not having a proper place to sit. “I'd guess you don't have cork screw either, or is that me being presumptuous again?”

Grinning, Root ambles to the spot next to Shaw on the mattress. “You'll have to use your imagination, sorry. I didn't think you'd bring anything fancy.”

The label is the only fancy thing about this wine, an Italian sounding word, Shaw thinks it means something like hat. The price tag said twelve, but she got it for six. 

Shaw flicks open her pocket knife and stabs it into the cork with a twisting motion. 

Root leans back and lounges on her elbows. “I did buy something yesterday, now that I think about it.”

“What?” Shaw asks, straining with the knife and the cork that wont budge.

Root nods. “That.” and Shaw looks in the direction. Hanging on the opposite pillar is a crudely sketched portrait. Of Shaw.

“Um, where did you get that?”

“From the man in the park,” Root replies, like it's supposed to mean something to Shaw. “Fun fact, he used to be police sketch artist until he injured his hand in a tragic trout-fisting accident. Anyways, if you pay him twenty dollars, he'll draw anyone you describe.”

Thankfully, Shaw gets the bottle open by then. The horrible taste of it helps her forget she ever heard the words trout-fisting back to back. “Hope you like cork in your fancy wine,” Shaw says and passes it on. “My eyebrows are off, by the way.”

“Hmm...” Root cocks her head the side, “I still like it.” She takes a swig from the bottle and grimaces almost instantly. 

“You know, you don't have to drink it,” Shaw says, laughing at the sour look on Root's face from the cheap wine. She has to run to the kitchen sink to wash her mouth out, it's so bad.

“Wanna see something cool?” Root asks when she returns and Shaw throws her a wary look. The last time Root tried to show her something cool, she ended up with stitches. 

“Do you have a first aid kit?”

“No?”

“Then no.”

“Just close your eyes,” Root insists. “Please..”

“Fine.” and Shaw covers her eyes, however, she checks for any sharp objects in Root's hands and in the immediate vicinity first. Patiently, she waits on the bed, listening to Root as she scampers around in her bare feet, for a moment until there's a loud click and the main lights go off.

Shaw opens her eyes... winding up the steel columns and along the rafters high above the bed, Root's hung strings of lights. Of all shapes, sizes and colors, they're arranged in way that makes Shaw feel like she's sitting inside a Christmas tree. 

“So this is what you've been doing?” Shaw smirks to herself. The order of Root's priorities are a mystery to her.

“Livens the place up,” Root says, looking up with a kind of awe in her eyes, or maybe it's the light glowing from the red bulbs. 

Root joins her on the bed again. Their legs hang off the edge, their feet occasionally running into each other.  

Shaw takes another swig of the wine, biting at the taste. “So um, does this count?” she asks, and when Root turns to her mixed, she has to awkwardly clarify. “Is this part of that quality the Machine says we don't have enough of?”

Root says nothing, she just grins.

“Why not?” Shaw goes on the defense. She showed up, she brought the wine, she looked at the pretty lights and they're talking. If that isn't quality time, then what is? “I really think you should reevaluate-” and suddenly, Shaw is rendered speechless by Root, who grabs her face and kisses her. 

“That's why,” Root says, giving Shaw a quick peck on the lips before pushing her down on the bed and climbing on top. 

And Shaw doesn't protest either, when Root starts unbuckling her belt, she's beginning to think this may fall under another made up category in Root's head. Something along the lines of fun time. 

“But if your so worried about it, Sameen,” she says, leaning in as she pins Shaw's wrists above her head, “You can come by tomorrow. I'm going to Ikea.”

[gretchensinister]

Operation Welcome Mat (preview)

I usually like to post a fic for my birthday, and well, this is a few days belated, but sometimes that’s how it goes. This is a preview of something I’m working on, now, and it’s a branching out of my usual fandom territory! I hope you’re curious, and I hope you enjoy!

It all stems from the question: Why does so much stuff that only Superman can deal with happen on the planet that Superman is on? That’s not the question that Lois Lane asks, but it’s the one she’s going to find an answer for.

Lois Lane always checks her spam folder. In fact, she always opens each individual message in there. Ninety-nine point nine nine nine percent of the time, what’s in there is garbage, but garbage is not synonymous with useless. Consider the journalists in Portland who went through the District Attorney’s garbage to make a point about privacy. Her daily ritual isn’t on that level of significance, but she feels the point still stands.

           Today, she opens an email that isn’t promising free trials of herbal supplements, contact info for hot singles in her area, or insurance policies that will cover damages caused by any and all anomalous events for as little as $10 a month. (These last annoyed her enough to ask Louise in Business to do a small expose on such companies—turns out, the fine print stated that given the regularity of attacks on Metropolis by aliens, robots, metahumans, etc., etc., these events could not be considered anomalous. Fucking scammers. She’s pretty sure they’re involved in a class-action lawsuit right now.)

           Instead, it reads thus:

           I am sending this to you because I think you are the only person in the world who might have adequate protection after I tell you this. It is for my safety and yours that I have not used your name or described what that protection might be.

           I ask you to use any and all resources you have at your disposal to investigate Operation Welcome Mat. I cannot tell you much more without compromising the slight chance this communication has of reaching you. However, I do not exaggerate when I say that the revealing—anything more I dare not hope for—of this operation will affect every human life on Earth.

           Sincerely,

                       One who works in the organization that knows you always check your spam folder

           The remaining message is a long and rambling series of testimonials for anti-aging and potency supplements, but Lois sees no reason to consider these as marks against the authenticity of the original message. Camouflage is important. As is covering one’s tracks. She opens her desk drawer and retrieves a high-quality digital camera that’s nevertheless old enough that it needs an actual physical cord to transfer the pictures on it to any computer. Lois has kept it in excellent condition, save for, oh, the pesky matter of the fact that the delete function doesn’t work on the camera itself, and that she just can never find the right kind of removable memory cards. Darn, what a problem! Fortunately the camera contains a 5000-image capacity non-removable internal memory. She takes a picture of the relevant portion of the email—well, ten pictures—and then sets about blocking every IP address that’s sent her something that ended up in her spam folder today and deleting every email indiscriminately. She’d like to perform a more thorough delete, but she never does that with any of her spam, and she’s got a feeling that now would not be a good day to start.

           Amateurs might worry about how she deleted the original email, but Lois knows that if she finds anything, she won’t need that email, and for another thing, the writer of that email most certainly doesn’t want anyone to be able to analyze their word choices and phrasing.

           She rests her arms on her desk and starts letting her mind work through everything the email told her. So, she’s the only person who “might have adequate protection” after learning about Operation Welcome Mat? The only unique protection she’s had under any circumstances is Superman. In a few well-known incidents, he’d appeared to give preference to getting her to safety before others. Lois isn’t one hundred percent sure that’s true, as she knows very well that she might’ve been the person in the greatest danger during each incident. Over her career, she’s tended to disregard danger for the sake of the story. And she can argue persuasively that in order to be a successful female journalist, she has to be prepared to face a certain amount of danger; she can argue that her years of experience have given her the ability to accurately evaluate the potential danger of a situation. These arguments have been, and are, vital to her public persona.

           But under a few layers of “I have to do this” is the chewy center of “I want to do this.” It’s true! Believe it or not, Lois Lane, Pulitzer Prize-winning investigative journalist, is a bit of a thrill-seeker!

           Good thing that might be exactly what her email contact needs.

           So. Back to the email. Back to Superman. She knows well enough that she doesn’t have a raven-haired alien angel at her beck and call, but, based on what the public has seen, is it more likely that she does than any other investigative journalist? Yes. So, if only Superman can offer her adequate protection, then—

           “Hi Lois,” Clark says, setting a paper cup on her desk. “Two sugars, no milk—” He breaks off into an almost cartoonishly exaggerated yawn that Lois nevertheless is familiar enough with to know is genuine.

           “You ought to buy some coffee for yourself,” Lois says, digging a few dollars out of her wallet and tossing them at him, which he barely catches. “I mean, if you’re going to volunteer to walk down to Reeve’s every day, anyway. And didn’t you grow up waking up at 4am to milk cows or whatever?”

           Clark smiles shyly. Like he always does. It’s a good smile, and on a kid who’s six foot three and probably better built than any of the barns he ever helped raise, it could very well explain why he always seems so exhausted in the morning. Though if Lois’ theory is true, she hasn’t seen or heard any other evidence of it. A gentleman never tells, Lois thinks idly.

           “I can and have milked cows in my sleep,” he says. “I can’t do anything in my sleep, here.” He looks down. “Uh, the truth is that I haven’t been sleeping well since the—what did they call it? The Chirauga Incident?”

           Lois grimaces. Yeah, Clark and half of Metropolis. Including her. When an army of aliens that big showed up all at once, there was no way to avoid some level of freaking out, special protection from Superman or not. “Yeah, the Chirauga Incident. Ugly sons of bitches, in my opinion. I killed one personally, you know.”

           Clark’s eyes widen in shock, and Lois grins. “What? I verified they weren’t bulletproof before going out to start, you know, researching my story.” But, because she is committed to the truth, even though Clark seems like he’ll believe anything she says, she has to add, “Well, okay. I’m pretty sure I mortally wounded it. Superman took care of it before I could find out for sure.” It had been clean. Heat vision through the Chirauga equivalent of the spinal cord. And Superman had turned to her with that red glow still shimmering in the back of his eyes. “Are you all right?” he’d asked, hovering a foot above the ground like it was nothing, looking at her like she was something. And she’d looked into the terrible weapon of his gaze and been stunned by the perfect surety that he’d never use it on a human being.

           And for all that, she’d never seen him look so alien.

           “Weren’t you watching? I had this one handled,” she’d said, with a rasp in her voice she hoped he’d attribute to the heavy dust and smoke in the air.

           “Well, in that case, I guess all I can do now is tell you to be careful out there,” he’d said.

           It would be nice if there was a discreet little jump cut in her memory right after that, but, unfortunately, Lois remembers with perfect clarity that she’d responded, “Sure thing, spaceboy,” like a complete and utter dumbass. But then Superman hadn’t laughed at her, no, he’d given her the smile and wink of an old-fashioned movie star before flying away to continue saving the world. She, on the other hand, had staggered off, feeling as emotionally churned-up as a teenager.

           The worst part about it, in her opinion, is that she knows very well that Superman has this effect on almost everyone who encounters him.

           “Ah, Superman,” Clark says, drawing her back to the present. His shocked expression has been replaced by the little smile she’s often seen him wear when talk of Superman comes up. She’s always thought there was something secretive about that smile, something notably different from the rest of his farm-boy guilelessness. (Though, she doesn’t quite believe he’s as transparent as he otherwise appears. And she doesn’t think that’s just her natural suspicion kicking in. For one thing, the Daily Planet is big, but not big enough that someone who was hired as a journalist could fall through the cracks and become nothing but a friendly coffee boy. She’s read some of his articles, the neighborhood news stuff he generally covers, and the writing is as solid as he is, with words chosen with care and sensitivity. There’s more to him than meets the eye, and if he ever decides to get ambitious, Lifestyle is in for a big surprise. For another thing, he’d moved to Metropolis during a metahuman surge, and that, frankly, was not what normies did, no matter how clueless they were.)

           The running undercurrent of what she knows about Clark and the smile that’s the one noticeable discordant note in the melody of the person she works with suddenly gel into a possible conclusion, one that Lois could’ve kicked herself for not even considering earlier.

           Talented kid moves from small-town Kansas, where he could’ve been a big fish in a tiny pond. And he doesn’t even move to a city in the same state or region, where he could have been a big fish in a medium-sized pond. Instead, he moves to Metropolis, where he won’t be a big fish at all, but where it’ll be a big project for anyone who knew him in Smallville to ever visit, or know anything about him he doesn’t want them to know. Metropolis, which, despite its dangers, still lives in the cultural mind as a place where the good kind of anything can happen. (Where Superman is often seen.) And when he’s here, he never, ever says anything about even going on a date with anyone, and mentions of Superman bring out that secretive smile. And he started off writing his articles with a clear awareness of issues that Lois has seen other straight white male coworkers fail to grok even after clear, baby-step-style explanations. And he’s never, ever tried to turn getting her coffee into something uncomfortable.

           So, possible conclusion: Clark is some flavor of queer, and still closeted/uncomfortable about it. But he can’t completely hide his crush on Superman because, well. Superman. And the kid has an honest face.

           Just goes to show, she thinks, how slow and unreliable gaydar can be, even if you are bi.

           But this does give her an idea on where to send him as she starts her initial investigation of this Project Welcome Mat. If it is big, bad business like it seems, Clark doesn’t need to get mixed up in it, even to the point of overhearing a phone call. And besides, it might help him accept himself, if he needs that.

           “You know what, Clark?” Lois says. “You need something to take your mind off shit like alien invasions.”

           Clark grimaces. “I don’t know if anything can.”

           “Yeah, it’s a toughie, but you’re a Metropolitan now,” Lois says, with more bravado than she feels. Some things you don’t get used to. But some of those things you have to at least pretend to get used to. “Get outside. Write your cat-up-a-tree article tomorrow. Do something completely out of the ordinary.” And then, as if she’s just thought of it, “Powtown Pride is going on today. Powtown’s a neighborhood. Pride’s something to write about. You could go there and see what you can see.”

           “Powtown?” Clark says, raising his eyebrows. “That’s the metahuman neighborhood. That’s…a bit more interesting than where Rowlands usually sends me.”

           Lois waves her hand. “Rita is seventy-eight and still thinks anything involving a metahuman is a front-pager. Perry can tell her otherwise when you bring back something nice.”

           “Well,” Clark says, warming to the idea, “there are a lot of misconceptions about Powtown that ought to be worn away by a reliable source like the Planet. I mean—there probably are. I don’t know, personally. But if everything written about Powtown was true, no one could live there. It’d be a smoking crater in the ground.”

           “So you see? Needs you,” Lois says. She smirks. “Be careful, though. They’ve got twinks down there that could rip you in half.”

           “Says someone who just told me about personally shooting a Chirauga,” Clark says. “No, no, I know—you had it handled. Anyway. Yeah, I will go.” He looks towards the windows and sighs. “After all, it’s a beautiful day to be outside.”

           Lois waves at him as he leaves, then glances towards the windows herself. It really is a beautiful June day, not too hot, vivid blue sky, puffy clouds slowly drifting by. Does Superman prefer days like this for flying? She wonders. Or would it not affect him at all? What would it be like to fly with Superman on a day like today—Lois sticks her tongue out in an exaggerated expression of disgust. She’s better than that! She has to be!

           Anyway, she’s got something new to investigate. Before Clark interrupted, she was thinking of what things out in the world only Superman could be adequate protection from. Well, aside from horrible things from space, that leaves a very short list that prominently features a house of a certain color and a building of a certain shape. And the name—Operation Welcome Mat—it has a very particular ring to it.

           But she’s still going to look into the rest of that short list. A direct assault isn’t the correct approach here, and besides, there might be connections, even if the person she’s going to call is officially blacklisted from government contracts.

           She scrolls to the contact in her phone for “Louis L’Amour,” and reaches out to someone who definitely isn’t a dead writer of Westerns.

Notes: I’ve decided to have Superman’s code against killing be specifically about humans/earthlings because for one thing, I don’t have to answer to Standards and Practices, and for another, I don’t feel like having every alien army be robots (which with sufficiently advanced AI doesn’t help anyway), and what do you want me to do, have Superman knock all the aliens out? If they’re going down long enough to be essentially counted out of the fight, they’re getting life-threatening brain injuries anyway. 

[mrbiglong3000]

My wife disappeared a few weeks ago, and she isn't coming back

The night my wife disappeared was... rough, for a variety of reasons.

I've lived my life to this point with the faint suspicion that I may be cursed. Bad things just... happen to me. A coffee will spill on my lap when I'm wearing white slacks. I won't notice cat hair on a dark blouse until I'm nearly at work, and just as I pull into a parking space, I'll remember that my wife borrowed it and put it into her purse instead of mine. I've purchased randomly generated lottery tickets with every single number just one digit away from the jackpot on more than one occasion.

'But wait,' I can already hear you saying, 'if your life is so cursed, then how have you managed to see any kind of success? If you wear a blouse and slacks to work, surely you must at least make a decent wage.' Well, that boils down to two factors, factors that have made me question both my suspicion and my sanity on numerous occasions- negativity bias, and the frequency at which my 'curse' strikes. I can remember plenty of times where I've been shot in the foot by what, to the uninformed, appears to be simple coincidence, but these instances are spaced out just enough to keep onlookers chuckling and shaking their heads. 'You just need to look on the bright side of things!' I've heard it a million times, and even if it's frustrating at times, it's true, really. Once you live like this long enough, you learn to laugh some of the less painful missteps off. It's easier that way.

That was how I met my wife, hilariously enough. It was a hot day- August, if memory serves- and I was just out of work. There was a little popsicle cart that typically rolled through the park around 5pm or so, and well, hey, I'm a sucker for cherry. I had my prize unwrapped and was just about to cram the thing down my throat in an attempt to drop my internal temperature as fast as possible when my phone's message ringtone went off. In retrospect, it was kind of a dumb move, but I let my popsicle hang from my mouth as I fished my phone from my purse and hurried to respond to what was surely an urgent email and not some shitpost from my younger sister. Turns out, though, that it was indeed the latter- and, well, shitpost or not, my sense of humor's been warped for years. I don't remember what it was precisely, but whatever it was, it was enough to make me snort without thinking, and that action let my already-melting popsicle slip from my mouth. I dropped my phone back into my purse on instinct and juggled the popsicle for a few seconds, but it slipped from my hands and onto the ground with a heart-wrenching smack, stopping just long enough on my lap to leave a nice, bright-red stain on the knee of my brand new khakis.

The pants I didn't really care about- spend enough years spilling anything and everything on yourself and you'll eventually learn what Borax is and how to use it- but the popsicle? That was heartbreaking. Sure, it only cost, what, a dollar? But I was hot, I was tired from a long day, I hadn't eaten lunch at work since that time I got food poisoning on the clock and lost my cookies on my desk so my blood sugar was probably low, and my favorite flavor of popsicle just splattered all over the nasty, pigeon-shit covered path. I'm not too proud to admit that I almost started crying. Almost. I didn't actually cry, just... stared at the broken popsicle on the ground, the way the sweet, melting juice cascaded between the brick pavers before it reached the grass and leached into the soil. Maybe I was grounding myself in a way, following the juice's path with my eyes to keep from focusing on the disappointment, but I sure must have looked like a fucking lunatic doing it. I leaned my elbows on my knees and closed my eyes for a minute, for the sake of maintaining composure, and I didn't look up until I felt a tap on my shoulder.

She was gorgeous- dark hair pulled up in a curly ponytail and a warm, if somewhat tired-looking smile. A brief glance at her clothes told me she was a jogger, but that wasn't really the important part. She was offering me something- a popsicle. I could even make out the red through the wrapper. Apparently, she'd seen my little juggling act from a distance, and she said the look on my face made her feel bad enough to buy me a replacement. She got one for herself, too, and we ended up sitting for a while and just chatting, Borax and daily exercise be damned. Before she left, we swapped numbers, and that was how it all started, with a random act of kindness for an exhausted stranger. After a month, we were at each others' apartments constantly, within six, we'd moved in together, and by the end of the next year, I was looking at rings. We balanced everything about each other. I was neat where she was a bit on the messy side. I couldn't cook worth a damn- and I still can't- but her oldest brother went to culinary school and taught her everything she knows. I had a tendency to think about myself, to worry about how I looked and how I stood out, but she was the most giving person I'd ever met. She even made a habit of giving blood every two months or so. She said she'd started to make ends meet, but once she was financially stable, she just kept doing it. She said she liked knowing that she was doing something good. My luck even seemed to get better after that day, believe it or not. It was almost funny to think about, but in a way, my curse had blessed me with the chance to meet her, and once I did, it was almost as if it dissipated entirely.

That brings us to now- we've been married for two years, and we were even looking into fostering. We agreed we were going to seek older children, both for the sake of moving a kid out of the system and to be sure we wouldn't need to juggle a puppy and a baby. Who needs to potty train one tiny life after another, y'know? Plus, it would be nice knowing we got a kid out of a pipeline to failure. We weren't rich by any means, but we were comfortable, and we could certainly grant an elementary-age child a life they may not get somewhere else.

I had to stay late at work that night. One of the downsides of moving up the corporate ladder is, well, sometimes it means there's more work to be done, I guess. I'm not sure if it's my direct superior offloading tasks he doesn't want to do onto me, or if I'm just adjusting, but I digress. I was late. She knew about that- I'd texted her saying as much- and dinner would be on the table just as I was getting home. Or, it would have been, if I hadn't needed to stop for gas. Oh, well. I'd be a few minutes later than I'd promised, a habit I was doing my best to break, but at least I caught it before my car ran dry entirely and I wound up out of gas somewhere stupid again.

In retrospect, I should have sped home. Maybe if I was there, I could have done something. I keep telling myself that it wasn't my fault, that I had no way of knowing what was going to happen, because that's the most logical way to see the situation, but...

The apartment was still when I got home. Dinner was on the stove, still warm in the pot and covered to keep it that way, but the television was off, and the silence burned in my ears. She liked... likes. She likes to listen to music when she cooks. She told me when we started dating that too much quiet unnerved her, and in that moment, I finally understood what she meant. I left the kitchen, flipping the hall light on as I passed the switch, and the smell started to reach me just as I got to the bedroom door. It was closed, and I stopped with my hand on the knob. I knew I didn't want to open that door. The feeling in the pit of my stomach told me that this wasn't some romantic surprise. There was a taste in the air not unlike the one a nosebleed leaves behind, metallic and tacky and unpleasant, overpowering the heavy, savory scent of garlic from the alfredo sauce left on the stove. Still, I knew that if I didn't open it, I couldn't rest. Almost as if I was on autopilot, I twisted the knob and pushed inward.

The room was dark, lit only by the ambient glow seeping between the blinds from the street outside and a dim arc cast through the doorway by the bulb down the hall. As soon as the door was open, the smell hit me like a freight train; if I'd thought it was strong in the hallway, this was overbearing, as if someone was kneeling on my chest and forcing me to breathe with my head in a sack full of hot, wet pennies. I was so thrown by the stench that I almost didn't notice the sound at first, a faint squish in the far corner. I did not turn on the light, and what I could see, I wish I hadn't. The carpets that were lit were stained deeply, almost the same bright red as my knee some three years prior, but not quite. It's almost funny, the way memories tie together like that. I did not laugh.

I wish I could say I turned on the light, confronted whatever was in that darkened corner, done... something. I wish I could say that I'd lifted the bedside lamp and hurled it at the shuddering mass in that bedroom, if only to stop the sound of its chewing for a second. I wish I could say I'd done anything at all, but I can't. And I didn't. I closed the bedroom door, stepped back into the hall, and left the way I'd came, not even bothering to lock the apartment behind me or so much as close the door. I didn't snap out of that trance until I was in the car again, driving nowhere in particular, just... somewhere that wasn't home. I got a call from the police not long after. Apparently, a few neighbors heard screaming and called the cops, and when they arrived and investigated, they found our door wide open and a trail of blood leading from the bedroom out to the balcony. Nothing else. No body, no perpetrator, nothing. Just a bloodied floor and a puppy cowering in the corner of the bathtub in a puddle of his own piss.

I came back later that night to pick up my dog. Poor guy was shaking like a leaf for ages, practically refused to leave the bathroom on his own. The cops ended up carting him out in my jacket, if only to make their investigation a little bit easier without a puppy in the way. I don't know why I wasn't shaking, too. I guess that made them suspicious, but when they questioned me, I had an alibi. Around the time the first neighbor called, I was still getting gas. I'm on CCTV feeds from three different cameras, all timestamped and verified by the cashier working that evening. I found out next that it was, indeed, my wife's blood in the carpets. The tests came back later and, when compared against her donor records, it was a match. That's... that's where the investigation ran dry. They never found a body, nor any witnesses other than the neighbors who heard the scream.

In the silence of the car trip to my parents' house that night, I found myself falling back into old thought patterns, obsessive ideas that refused to leave my brain no matter how little sense they made. I managed to keep them at bay until I pulled into the driveway behind my little sister's car and my phone rang out with the quiet chime of a message alert. Numb, I lifted my phone from the center console and unlocked it. I had one new text message, from a number I recognized. It was my wife's, and in that moment, I knew that what I saw was real, and no amount of searching would ever bring her home.

12:51 AM-

Thanks for dinner.

[mudskip-muses]

Open RP - Clint Barton

Only Clint could manage to get robbed in broad daylight in the middle of fucking nowhere. Seriously, at the edge of town, no people in sight, and he's getting mugged! There was nothing about him that could have attracted a mugger’s attention either. If you were going to rob someone, you normally wanted to make sure they had something to make it worth the effort.

He didn’t even have a real wallet on him for fuck’s sake! His pants pockets were not at all deep enough to hold one and it was really obvious if you looked at them for more than five seconds. He was actually pretty sure his jeans were originally marketed towards woman, but they were a cheap thrift store buy and they worked just fine for him, so that was all beside the point.

The real point to be had right now was the one belonging to the pistol in the muggers hand, aimed right at him. It was obviously in inexperienced hands if the shake was anything to go by. And of course with shaky hands, one could never be sure what might happen if they got near the trigger...

Colorful swears were paired with a hiss of pain as the bullet entered his leg just above his knee. Really he should consider himself lucky with that, if it had been his kneecap there would go his shield days for quite a while. He fell to the ground with a heavy thud, the mugger's gun clattering on the pavement just a few seconds after as they dropped it in shock.

He had been trying not to hurt his attacker because he honestly felt kind of bad for the them. He had been at the other end of this same scenario once or twice in his younger life, he knew that moments like this didn't always come from a place of evil. Even though only their eyes were visible from under a hood and bandana pairing, he could see the shock at the blood now soaking his jeans, they hadn't meant to hurt him, that much was clear.

That didn't stop the would be mugger from running away, however. He really couldn't blame them, he probably would have done the same thing. Probably.

With the fingers of one hand picking idly at the new hole in his jeans, Clint fumbled for his phone and hit the speed dial with bloody digits.

It occurred to him as the phone rang that he didn't actually see who he had called, just hit a number and hoped who ever it was could come get him. Oh well, if they were important enough to be on his speed dial that was good enough for him.

As soon as the other end picked up, Clint didn't even wait for a hello, he just started rambling. "Hey uh, it's Clint. You...probably already knew that, you have caller ID. Uh, anyway, I maybe got...shot? And I need someone to come pick me up because walking with a bullet in your leg is not fun, let me tell ya." Please come pick me up.

[dangertronic]

Not A Monster Chapter 20

Finally.

Sorry guys, I broke a couple of my fingers the other day so typing is actually pretty hard right now and it’s gonna take me a while to type up chapters / post them.

Ao3 Link

Taggity Tags!: @sten-bros @agrimny @areyareddie @soomar-wine @deamontesnothere @jakethezombiehunter @creamy-brown-eyes @trippy-alexissss @thetrashvoid

Twenty

Eddie woke with a start, his breathing laboured as he tried to recall the source of his sleep being disturbed. Pieces of the dream that had woken him slowly came back as he sat up an attempted to steady his breathing, setting into his brain and causing his chest to tighten with each little piece he remembered he remembered.

“Eds?”

A firm hand clamped onto his arm, drawing Eddie’s attention to the source of the voice. He wasn’t sure when Richie had woken up, but there he was, sitting up in the bed with his glasses askew on his nose from his haste to put them on, his hair even more of an unruly mess than usual.

This wasn’t the Richie from his dream who had much shorter hair that he’d learned to tame somehow over the years and had no glasses anywhere in sight. This wasn’t the grime and blood covered Richie that had terrified him into a state of consciousness.

This Richie wasn’t middle-aged.

This was the real Richie.

His Richie.

“Eds? Come on, speak to me.” Richie urged, his grip on Eddie’s arm tightening enough that his fingernails were leaving small indentations in the flesh where they were digging in. “What’s the matter?”

Eddie shoved the hand away from his arm and then threw himself at Richie, arms winding around him and clutching at him as though he thought Richie would vanish at any second. His fingers dug into Richie’s back, clawing at the flesh like he was trying to absorb the boy in front of him, his face pressing roughly into the side of his neck.

Richie felt his heart slow at Eddie’s sudden behaviour. He hadn’t seen Eddie this panicked since the summer they’d encountered Pennywise, and when Eddie began to cry, Richie bit back the smart ass remark he’d been about to spew, curling his arms around his distressed boyfriend and running a hand soothingly through his hair.

“I’m gonna need you to use your words at some point, Eds.” Richie said, pressing light comforting kisses to the side of Eddie’s head.

After what felt like forever, Eddie slowly pulled away from Richie, his eyes red and watery. Richie shifted one of his hands to Eddie’s face, running his thumb gently under his eye.

“You wanna tell me what that was all about?”

“I – it was – bad dream.” Eddie swallowed, waiting for some smart comment from Richie that didn’t come. Richie was watching him very carefully, one hand running through his hair while the thumb of the other continued to stroke comforting circles across his cheek. “I – we were older – we came back here – It was back, Rich.”

Richie furrowed his brow. “It was back? You know that It’s –”

“I know that, Richie!” Eddie hissed, taking in a shaky breath. “But part of me is always thinking… what if it’s not dead? What if it comes back someday? Ben said it himself. It comes back every twenty seven years.”

“You’ve had this dream before, haven’t you?”

“A few times, yeah.” Eddie admitted, sinking his teeth into his lower lip. “It’s always the same.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Eddie’s fingers gripped at Richie’s sides as he swallowed, running the dream through his head again quickly.

“I – we weren’t together. I had a wife…” Richie snorted here and Eddie smacked his chest. “Shut up asshole. I know that wouldn’t happen it’s just… it was weird. I got a call. It was Mike. He said that It was back and we all came back. Well… Stan didn’t… he died… I don’t know why… and we went back into those sewers.”

Richie hummed, toying with the ends of Eddie’s hair absent-mindedly. “And then what?”

“And then… It was there… and… I can’t remember all of it anymore but I remember you were covered in blood and I was looking up at you and I was in a lot of pain and everything started to go dark and then –”

“And that’s when you woke up.” Richie finished.

Eddie nodded, and Richie placed both of his hands to his face, tilting it in his direction with a comforting smile.

“Hey, look at me, Eds. None of that was real, okay? None of that is ever going to happen to you, to me, to us. We’re gonna finish school soon – two months actually – then we’re getting out of this place. We’re going to the same college, and I’m not about to let some girl take you away and marry you. That’s my job. That thing is dead and the only time we’re ever gonna have to come back here is to see parents at Christmas. Everything’s gonna be fine, because I’m not gonna let anything happen to you – ever.”

Eddie couldn’t hold back the laugh, staring up at Richie’s face. “Did you just tell me we’re going to get married someday?”

Richie groaned, lightly shoving a fist against Eddie’s shoulder. “That’s what you took from all of that?”

“It kinda stood out the most.”

Richie grinned. “Well, then yeah. You’re gonna be Mr Eddie Spaghetti Tozier one day whether you like it or not, Eds.”

“You think I’d be the one taking your name? I can’t even say it half the time.” Eddie protested, shoving Richie playfully.

“Are we really arguing names right now? It’s two in the morning, Eds! I don’t have that kind of energy!”

Eddie glanced back over his shoulder at the digital clock on the nightstand where the large red numbers now read 02:10AM before he turned back to Richie, a grin curving onto lips.

“Good. That means I win.”

Richie rolled his eyes, dropping onto his back and closing his eyes. Eddie shifted on the bed next to him, and Richie could feel his fingers curling around the arms of his glasses before he removed them, leaning over Richie to place them onto the nightstand closest to Richie.

Eddie pressed a quick kiss to Richie’s mouth, resulting in one of Richie’s eyes opening to look up at the blurred Eddie who was currently leaning over him, no doubt with a smile on his face. Richie opened his arms and Eddie settled down into them, nuzzling his face into the side of Richie’s neck which was still somewhat damp from when he’d been crying.

Richie didn’t seem to be bothered by the wet patch of his neck, throwing his arms around Eddie as he closed his eye again and stared to hum softly, the sound vibrating through his throat. Eddie smiled, curling himself more into Richie’s side as he allowed the humming and the heat emanating from Richie to lull him back to sleep.

“Christ Eddie, you look like absolute shit.” Jessica said as Eddie and Richie climbed into the back of her car the following morning.

“Gee, thanks Jess.” Eddie groaned, shoving the back of her seat with his knee. “That’s just what a ‘boyfriend’ wants to hear.”

“Hey man, we’re off the relationship clock right now since we’re not around my parents or your mom.” Jessica defended, grinning and winking at Eddie through her rear-view mirror while Lucille once again fiddled with the radio; brow furrowed. “I can say whatever I want until about seven-thirty tonight when I take you home.”

“The lady has a point Eds!” Richie said, lacing his fingers with Eddie’s.

“Don’t encourage her.” Eddie scolded, smacking Richie’s arm with his free hand.

“Well, your radio is officially dead.” Lucille said, sitting back in the passenger’s seat with a huff as Jessica pulled away from Richie’s house. “Unless you want to listen to nothing but Static FM all the way to the quarry.”

“I’ll take a pass on that.” Jessica said, reaching over and shutting the radio off. “I’ll get a new one next weekend okay?”

“You should get one of those fancy new ones that play those compact discs.” Richie said, tapping his fingers lightly against the back of Eddie’s hand. “They look really nice.”

“And expensive.” Eddie pointed out.

“Then you have to buy the discs to play in them.” Lucille added.

Jessica groaned. “Which are also expensive.”

Richie huffed. “Now you’re just taking the fun out of it.”

Bill, Stan, and Mike were all present when they finally made it to the quarry, seated open some rocks not too far away from the somewhat beat-up truck that belonged to Stan.

“Where’s Haystack?” Richie asked, wasting no time in grabbing one of the soda cans from the cooler at Mike’s feet and throwing it to Eddie who barely managed to catch it since he was caught off guard.

“He said he’s gonna join us later when he’s done helping his mom with some stuff.” Mike said, shooting Richie a disapproving look when he tossed another can; this one at Jessica who was busy talking to Lucille and not paying attention which resulted in the soda can colliding with the back of her head.

“Motherfucker.” Jessica hissed, grabbing at the back of her head with one hand as she bent to pick up the can.

“For fuck sake Richie, try to not give people concussion.” Stan scolded as took out another can and held it over his shoulder towards Lucille.

Richie opened his mouth to retort, but the only sound that made it out was a scream of ‘fuck’ as the can he’d thrown at Jessica suddenly slammed into his face with a sickening sound between a clink and a clang before it hit the ground at his feet and rolled towards Bill.

Eddie choked on the sip he’d been taking from his own can in his attempt to hold back his laugh, Lucille reaching over to pat at his back a few times.

“Dats dot funny.” Richie snapped, voice muffled behind his hands which were clutching at his nose, attempting to glare at his boyfriend through his now slightly watery eyes. “Da fuck you learn dat drow?”

“Softball, eighth grade. I was a monster.” Jessica said, walking over to Richie and prying his hands from his nose. “Come here you big baby, let me have a look.”

“Wow, cause that’s not stereotypical.” Lucille joked, dropping her hand from Eddie’s back. “Gonna be okay now?”

“Y-yeah.” Eddie said, taking in a deep breath to calm himself. “I just didn’t expect her to do that, let alone land the hit. How’s the patient Jess?”

“His pride took a really big hit from the wild soda can but he’s gonna live.” Jessica announced, patting Richie on the shoulder.

“I’d be mad you wasted a can if that throw wasn’t so badass.” Stan said, holding out an intact can towards Jessica.

“Ah-and hilarious.” Bill said.

“Glad you fucks take amusement in pain.” Richie grumbled, wiggling his nose with his forefinger and thumb. “Shit this hurts. For a second there I thought you’d actually broken it.”

“Trust me Rich, if I was gonna break your nose, I’d use something stronger than a can of soda to do it with.” Jessica said, taking the fresh can. “Also I did not waste a can, Staniel.”

Stan sighed heavily, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “If that name sticks I’m murdering you.”

“The can is perfectly fine. It’s just a little dented.” Lucille said, picking up the can and giving it a once over. “Kind of like me.”

“You’re confusing dented with bent, dear.” Jessica pointed out, popping the tab of her can and taking a quick swig. “You’re more like one of those flexible rulers. You know… someone bent you a little bit and you never straightened back out?”

“Ohmygod.” Eddie choked.

“How did you think of that joke but I didn’t?” Richie demanded.

Stan snorted, crushing his now empty can in his hand before tossing it into the trash bag that was set out next to the cooler. “I think you might have broken his brain, Jess.”

“Good, because I’m pretty sure he rattled mine.” Jessica grumbled.

“Are you actually implying it was ever in one piece?” Lucille asked, returning the dented can back to the cooler.

“Ouch Lucille.” Richie said, a look of mock hurt on his face as he placed a hand to his chest. “You really not how to hurt a girl’s feelings.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Richie.”

“Hey –”

“You walked into that one on your own, idiot.” Eddie said, hoisting himself onto a rock near Mike.

“It’s amazing how often I do that.”

Lucille snorted, perching herself next to Eddie and parting her legs wide enough for Jessica to sit between them. “Worrying is a more accurate term. So Stan, when were you going to tell us you and Bill are dating?”

Stan choked on his drink, coughing a few ties as he glared at Jessica. “Jess! You promised!”

Jessica held up her hands in defence. “I didn’t say anything! My lips have been sealed this whole time! It’s not my fault you’re coming to classes with hickeys and he’s going back with messy hair and his clothes wrinkled!”

“It’s definitely not her fault you guys are practically undressing each other with your eyes whenever you’re talking or looking at each other.” Mike said, tossing his empty can into the trash bag and grabbing a fresh one.

“And it’s also not her fault that you guys happen to run off at the same time for something or be at each other’s houses when we call one of you.” Eddie added with a smirk. “We’re onto you assholes.”

“Did everyone catch onto this but me?” Richie asked, standing between Eddie’s legs which were draped over the edge of the rock.

Eddie snorted, curling his arms and legs around Richie. “You always seem to catch on last. Are you sure you’re smart?”

“Fine. We’re dating.” Stan said, throwing his hands up in frustration. “We just didn’t want to say anything yet.”

“Wuh-we wanted to make shu-sure we felt something ruh-real. Like you guys.” Bill said, popping open another can.

“Yeah, we figured.” Lucille said, toying with the ends of Jessica’s hair. “That’s why we didn’t say anything.”

“You discussed this?” Richie asked.

Jessica tilted her head back to look up at Lucille. “Where the fuck was I?”

Lucille grinned, pecking at Jessica’s nose. “You were in that detention with Richie for… what was it? Not paying attention in class?”

“Oh yeah.” Jessica mused. “I was trying to tell Richie to shut the fuck up in Literature because he was being distracting. Thanks for fucking helping Stan.”

“You’re welcome.” Stan said, flashing her a smirk.

“Asshole.”

Lucille snorted against Jessica’s shoulder. “If you keep hanging around Richie I’m gonna have to start washing your mouth out with soap once a week.”

Eddie chuckled, tightening his hold on Richie slightly and pressing a kiss against the crook of his neck. “We could just wash Richie’s out for good so he can’t influence her.”

“Come near my mouth with a bar of soap and you’re going to regret it, Eds.” Richie warned.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “You’re forgetting something Richie. I know all your weak points. I can and will use them against you.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Oh Rich… whoever said we had to play fair?”

Richie groaned, tilting his head back until it smacked into Eddie’s shoulder.

[sassiperere]

Sex Tape

Title: Sex Tape Pairing: Akira Kurusu/Ryuji Sakamoto Rating: M (implied sexual content) Word Count: 3712 Summary: futaba gets a hold of some compromising information and it all goes downhill from there (chatfic)

Fucking i dont even REMEMBER how we got to this conversation in the pegoryu discord server BUT WE DID and we semi rpd this whole thing at 11pm all the way through midnight and i was writing this thing based on that conversation at like 2 am so im actually very embarrassed but anyway enjoy this fucking chaos of a fanfic

READ IT ON AO3

GROUP NAME: ✨ PHANTOM THIEVES ✨

MEMBERS: Capable Leader™, -` RYUJI ´-, ANN~, Yusuke K., Makoto, [hacker voice].

TODAY 00:47 AM

[hacker voice]: Gee, futaba, what do you do with all your amazing hacking skills?

[hacker voice]: I leak government secrets, destroy anonymous organizations and hack into my old neopets account because I forgot the password and I wanted to feel nostalgic

Makoto: What’s that?

[hacker voice]: children’s website. You had to adopt a “neopet” and raise it kinda like a Tamagotchi. It had some really fun features like games and events and shit. It really kept me entertained when I was younger

[hacker voice]: comfort site, if you will.

Makoto: Sounds nice!

Capable Leader™: you played that? I thought it was really boring when I tried

[hacker voice]: with all due respect wtf is wrong with you?

Capable Leader™: I dunno, all the neopets looked kinda ugly…

[hacker voice]: you have a dick with tentacles as a persona and you’re calling neopets ugly????

Capable Leader™: I never said Mara was pretty

[hacker voice]: point taken

[hacker voice]: but like my point is

[hacker voice]: kacheeks

Capable Leader™: They were kinda cute but I abandoned one for a soy sauce or whatever was that dragon one

[hacker voice]: that’s it

[hacker voice]: that’s where I draw the line

[hacker voice]: you’re dead to me

[hacker voice]: I’m leaking your nudes

Capable Leader™: WTF?? HOW DO YOU HAVE THEM?? I DON’T EVEN HIDE THEM IN MY PHONE ANYMORE??

[hacker voice]: oh my god you actually have nudes?

Capable Leader™: oh…

Capable Leader™: woops…

ANN~: knew it

ANN~: @ -` RYUJI ´- pay the fuck up

-` RYUJI ´-: wtf? WTF??? WTF AKIRA???

-` RYUJI ´-: WHY DO YOU HAVE NUDES??

-` RYUJI ´-: ARE THEY YOURS OR LIKE NUDES YOU RECEIVED?

Capable Leader™: Listen

[hacker voice]: update I got them

Capable Leader™: do you really?

[hacker voice]: four of them were taken on the same day cause your nails were painted black and the other two are from a different angle and your underwear has paw prints on it

Capable Leader™: fuck.

-` RYUJI ´-: FOR REAL??

Makoto: Excuse me what kind of nonsense is going on right now?

[hacker voice]: I hacked into Akira’s PC and got his super secret dick pix

Makoto: I expected better from both of you

ANN~: Guys I’m heer im just slaughging so hard I cant se

-` RYUJI ´-: WHY DO YOU HAVE THESE?? WHO ARE YOU SENDING THEM TO??

Capable Leader™: does it matter who I send my genitals to?

-` RYUJI ´-: UH YEAH?? I CAN’T BE THE ONLY ONE WORRIED ABOUT THIS CAN I??

Yusuke K.: What seems to be the matter?

-` RYUJI ´-: AKIRAS BEEN SENDING NUDES TO STRANGERS AND FUTABA GOT THEM

Yusuke K.: Akira I did not know you had nude portraits of yourself

Yusuke K.: You should have informed me. I would gladly appraise them.

Yusuke K.: I would love to paint you too, if you so desire. I’m sure your form is marvelous to capture on canvas.

-` RYUJI ´-: dude…

ANN~: I FEEL BAD THAT IM LAUGHING

Makoto: @Yusuke K. it’s really not what you think…

[hacker voice]: ryuji are you

[hacker voice]: jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeealous?

 PRIVATE MESSAGE: the blonde fuckboy one

the blonde fuckboy one: yo futaba

the blonde fuckboy one: do you actually for real have akiras dick there?

You: YOU ARE I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS

the blonde fuckboy one: stfu

You: yeah I do have akira’s nudes for real, here I’ll send you a sneaky preview as proof

You sent AKIRA_NUDE_1_CENSOR.jpeg

the blonde fuckboy one: oh my god

You: interested in the full, uncensored ver? For a mere fee of 400y you can have it

the blonde fuckboy one: no wtf im not gonna do that to my bro akira

the blonde fuckboy one: but how big is he

You: im speechless

the blonde fuckboy one: is he bigger than me?

You: dunno need material to compare

the blonde fuckboy one: ok

the blonde fuckboy one: wait

the blonde fuckboy one: youre gonna threaten to leak mine too fuck you

You: worth a shot

 PRIVATE MESSAGE: Emo Bob Ross

Emo Bob Ross: Hello, Futaba, I am interested in Akira’s nude portraits. Are you perhaps offering them?

Emo Bob Ross: Ryuji did say Akira was sending them off to strangers so I would imagine he has no quarrel with me evaluating it.

Emo Bob Ross: Should I pick them up at Leblanc?

You: I don’t even know where to start

Emo Bob Ross: Any of them would be fine. It would be difficult to take multiple ones to the dorms regardless.

You: I feel bad now

Emo Bob Ross: ?

You: yusuke… you should go to bed…

You: you’re typing a lot please don’t make this into an art rant thing

Emo Bob Ross: Futaba must I explain once again that nude portraits have no perverted undertones and are about the portrayal of the human being stripped of all it’s factors back down to it’s core, thus revealing it’s innermost self? The true self. The self an artist so desperately seeks to represent and very few up to this date have been successful. My eternal search for the perfect and realest form has me in need of diverse- both physically and spiritually – models that are willing to bare their very souls to me. I am not looking at this experience as a lustful, carnal desire. I would never dare take advantage of someone who has been brave enough to let me gaze upon their being so intimately for the sake of art. We have been through this. I have been through this with several people, in actuality, I’m starting to get a little tired of explaining this over and over again but for the sake of deconstruction of societal standards that block my advancement in the unexplored road to artistic perfection I will gladly do so.

You: holy shit

You: im sorry yusuke but its 1 am im just skimming through this

You: the thing is not that I doubt your passion to your study of the arts

You: the thing is that what I have… is not art…

Emo Bob Ross: I’ll be the judge of that

Emo Bob Ross: Not to offend you but I have a trained eye

You: you know what

You: do you have 400y? For that much you can have the digital copy. Physical copy is gonna be at least 600 depending on the material

Emo Bob Ross: I’m low on cash but I’ll keep you in mind if I manage to rake in the money.

 GROUP NAME: ✨ PHANTOM THIEVES ✨

[hacker voice]: @Capable Leader™ lets make a deal

[hacker voice]: give me a copy of every nude you make willingly and I wont leak these

Capable Leader™: why tf would I do that

[hacker voice]: cause your dick is magical and I’ll split the spoils 20/80

Makoto: Stop this at once. There’s no way this deal is good news. Akira knows this.

Capable Leader™: I demand at LEAST 50/50

Makoto: AKIRA

[hacker voice]: I deserve more?? I’m doing ALL the work?

Capable Leader™: It’s MY dick??

-` RYUJI ´-: he’s right tho… the dick is like 90% of a man’s identity…

ANN~: Whats the other 10%?

-` RYUJI ´-: the balls

ANN~: I’m sorry I asked

[hacker voice] 40/60 is the MAX im willing to go and that’s me being GENEROUS because I recognize you have magic juju dick pix that already fished in two possible buyers

[hacker voice]: and also youre my friend and I love you

-` RYUJI ´-: I never said I’d buy it???

[hacker voice]: sigh

Capable Leader™: Ryuji…

-` RYUJI ´-: UH

Capable Leader™: Bro…

-` RYUJI ´-: I MEAN

Capable Leader™: If you wanted my nudes…

-` RYUJI ´-: I ALSO ENVER SAID I ASKED FUTABA FOR THEM DON’T GET THE WRONG IDEA

Capable Leader™: You just had to ask…

-` RYUJI ´-: LISTEN I JUST WANTED TO KNOW IF YOU WERE BIGGER THAN ME THAT’S A MAN THING

-` RYUJI ´-: wait really

ANN~: omfg

Makoto: I feel like this conversation is about to get very intimate

Yusuke K.: I would like to request permission to ask for your nudes as well, Akira

Capable Leader™: oh

Capable Leader™: well that’s a surprising turn of events

Yusuke K.: I fail to see how that surprises you considering you know how I am a fan of the erotica genre and it’s artistic disposition to strip a human bare to it’s very core.

-` RYUJI ´-: no dude…

-` RYUJI ´-: like this is not the nude art thing you keep talking about...

-` RYUJI ´-: this is like

Capable Leader™: (implying I’m not art)

[hacker voice]: touché

-` RYUJI ´-: a dick pic

-` RYUJI ´-: like its just a picture of his dick taken with his phone camera that’s it

Yusuke K.: Well, anything can be art! Art is subjective! I would like to evaluate the photograph!

-` RYUJI ´-: LISTEN MAN, AKIRA DIDN’T TAKE THAT PICTURE TO BE ARTSY, TRUST ME.

Makoto: Yusuke I strongly advise against this

Makoto: If anyone online offers to send you “a nude” please do not accept it…

Yusuke K.: It does intrigue me why anyone would simply want a picture of someone else’s genitalia when you could get the full view…

Makoto: remain intrigued

Makoto: not everything in life needs to be understood

Capable Leader™: Hey Futaba, I accept payment in Ryuji’s nudes as well

[hacker voice]: the contract has been sealed

-` RYUJI ´-: WTF AKIRA

-` RYUJI ´-: I DIDN’T CONSENT TO THIS

Capable Leader™: Come on, Ryuji… my bro…

Capable Leader™: This is just a bro thing…

Capable Leader™: Whomst amongst us never seen their best bro’s dick?

Capable Leader™: You’re my best bro, Ryuji… I wanna get to know every part of you…

Makoto: this is a public chat

[hacker voice]: gross

Capable Leader™: The very deep and intimate connection between two bros is nothing to hide, Makoto…

ANN~: You should hang out and deepen your bond

[hacker voice]: don’t think I don’t know what youre doing ann, that’s cheating

ANN~: ;)

-` RYUJI ´-: bro…

-` RYUJI ´-: If you wanted MY nudes bro…

-` RYUJI ´-: you could have just asked, bro….

Makoto: I can’t believe this is a thing that is happening right now

ANN~: ive turned off the TV this group chat is too lit for me to take my eyes off it

Makoto: it’s 2 am we should prepare to bed

Capable Leader™: [MESSAGE DELETED]

[hacker voice]: FUCK

ANN~: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSS IM RAKING IT IN TONIIIIIIIIIIIGHT

ANN~: WAIT WHAT

Capable Leader™: what? I didn’t delete that?

ANN~: FUTABA THATS CHEATING!!

[hacker voice]: YOU CHEATED FIRST! YOU INSTIGATED HIM!

ANN~: I INSTIGATED THE IDEA BUT NOT WHO WOULD BE SAYING IT???

[hacker voice]: HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

ANN~: SAY IT AGAIN AKIRA

Capable Leader™: @ -` RYUJI ´- come over

[hacker voice]: I hate that im partially to blame for this

-` RYUJI ´-: woah akira

ANN~: no bitch no matter how this conversation went it would end the same way cause im ALWAYS RIGHT

ANN~: I’m making it rain Monday morning. I’m taking Shiho to that fancy cake place she wanted to go.

-` RYUJI ´-: isn’t it kinda late for that??

Capable Leader™: I’m alone and Boss doesn’t open shop tomorrow

Capable Leader™: I can show you the goods myself

Capable Leader™: You know?

-` RYUJI ´-: SDSDMX,X CM SALÇ DAÇSD

-` RYUJI ´-: DID YOUJUST BOOTY CALL ME??

Capable Leader™ sent MAYBESO.gif

-` RYUJI ´-: BRO

Makoto: Gross innuendos publicly aside: finally

Makoto: It was getting frustrating seeing you two obviously pinning on each other

[hacker voice]: and don’t even talk about the baton passes…

Capable Leader™: I mean he hasn’t accepted yet…

ANN~: oh he will

ANN~: he better

-` RYUJI ´-: why should you decide

ANN~: cause as your best friend I know whats best for you and I know for a damn fact you will not get a better score than akira

-` RYUJI ´-: thanks I love you too

ANN~: FUCKING LOOK AT HIM! HE’S OFFERING HIMSELF ON A SILVER PLATTER!

-` RYUJI ´-: THIS IS REALLY AWKWARD FOR ME MAN…

ANN~: don’t embarrass yourself in front of your crush like that

Capable Leader™: I like when they get shy

ANN~: oh my god youre such a slut

Capable Leader™: ;)

-` RYUJI ´-: bro…

ANN~: WHAT ARE YOU DOING STILL IN THE CHATROOM GO ANSWER THE GOD DAMNED BOOTY CALL ALREADY

-` RYUJI ´-: IM REALLY NERVOUS OK

ANN~: RYUJI YOU USELESS BISEXUAL

-` RYUJI ´-: GDI

Capable Leader™: you don’t have to come for real it was just a joke

ANN~:  wait really?

Capable Leader™: @ -` RYUJI ´-

Capable Leader™: wait is he actually coming??

[hacker voice]: yeah he left 5 mins I traced his phone rn

Capable Leader™: oh fuck…..

ANN~: was it actually a joke??

Capable Leader™: No I just didn’t think I’d actually get this far??

ANN~: YOURE BOTH USELESS BISEXUALS AND I HATE YOU

Yusuke K.: Akira may I join you both? If you’re willing to model for me I will certainly not pass on this opportunity

Makoto: Please don’t.

Capable Leader™: oh my god yusuke

Capable Leader™: not today

Capable Leader™: maybe some other day

Capable Leader™: wink wink

Yusuke K.: I understand. Take all the time you need but please consider my request.

[hacker voice]: I can’t believe Ryuji’s about to get the succ

[hacker voice]: according to my gps ryuji should already be at leblanc??

Capable Leader™: oh he’s here alright. Just nervously prancing in front of my front door.

Capable Leader™: I haven’t called to him yet, let a man be ready

Capable Leader™: (I also don’t know if im fully ready so…)

ANN~: oh grl you got this

ANN~: you’ve been training all your life for this

ANN~: besides its not like hes gonna know the difference between a good bj and a bad bj lol

Capable Leader™: youre right

Capable Leader™: but I also you know, care about him a lot

Capable Leader™: I wanna make this a good experience cause I care about ryuji a lot… like in a very gay way…

ANN~: Aww!! :)

Makoto: I want to take no part in this conversation but that was adorable

ANN~: srsly im talking to ryuji rn on private and hes freaking out cause of the same thing

ANN~: wants it to be really good to you bc he loves you sm and youre so hot and hes already semi just thinking abt you

Capable Leader™: I’m flattered

ANN~: he’s super overwhelmed cause its his first time and with a boy he loves so like admsadsa damn ryuji youre so cute

ANN~: almost makes my cold blooded bitch heart feel something

Capable Leader™: I’ll give him all the time he needs!

ANN~: you should really open the door for him and at least put him inside cause its cold and there was a robbery in your street earlier this week

ANN~: and you know ryuji hell stubbornly stand in front of that store until the sun comes up if hes wallowing in nerves

Capable Leader™: youre right…

Capable Leader™: im gonna go do that…

Capable Leader™: @[hacker voice] if you have any cameras in my room turn them off!

[hacker voice]: for how much?

Capable Leader™: FUTABA, PLEASE.

[hacker voice]: calm down theyre already off. Havent been on since we became friends.

[hacker voice]: just thought youd like to have your fond memories engraved on tape for your enjoyment…

Capable Leader™: …

Capable Leader™: that’s… tempting

Makoto: are you out of your mind??

ANN~: YOU’RE SUCH A SLUT, AKIRA

Makoto: God, you’re hopeless. At least talk it over with Ryuji first.

Capable Leader™: I just did. He’s cool with it.

Makoto: Somehow I feel like this is an oversimplification of the conversation.

Capable Leader™ changed his username to Tapable Leader <3

Tapable Leader <3 changed the group name to AKIRA & RYUJI’S SEX TAPE

Makoto: I’m leaving.

Makoto: Only talk to me when you want to group up from now on.

-` RYUJI ´-: I ONLY AGREED WITH IT IF ONLY ME AND AKIRA GET A COPY!!

-` RYUJI ´-: ITS ONLY FAIR CONSIDERING YOU’RE ALREADY SELLING AKIRA’S NUDES!!

[hacker voice]: I’ll make three copies of the sex tape

[hacker voice]: 600y each

[hacker voice]: first come first serve

[hacker voice]: no reservations

[hacker voice]: you show me the money the tape is yours

[hacker voice]: those are my terms

Tapable Leader <3: even if Ryuji and I get copies there’ll still be one in the wild for someone to buy?

ANN~: isn’t that thrilling tho

ANN~: one other stranger youll never know about can be watching you

ANN~: and if futaba agrees to take down any reuploads of the tape its like your very own secret but like… shared with a stranger… that’s a kink isn’t it??

[hacker voice]: yure right…

Tapable Leader <3: holy shit

Makoto: This is so irresponsible…

[hacker voice]: thought you wanted no part in this?

Makoto: I can’t simply not take part. You guys are worse unsupervised…

Tapable Leader <3: Futaba, it’s a deal if mine and Ryuji’s copies are free of charge

[hacker voice]: fair enough

Tapable Leader <3: nice. We’re going upstairs now.

[hacker voice]: camera’s ready!

ANN~: lmao I cant believe this is actually happening

Makoto: so much for reputable thieves…

Makoto: I swear if this sex tape leaks and we get found out because of it…

Makoto: What’s worse! Akira’s on probation! That will most definitely spell trouble for him depending on who gets their hands on this tape!

ANN~: Guess we have no choice but to buy it ourselves!

Makoto: Or don’t do the sex tape?! At all?!

ANN~: Nothing’s gonna happen, Makoto! Chillax!

ANN~: How can they possibly trace a video of Akira sucking Ryuji off back to the phantom thieves?

ANN~: What kind of evidence even is this?

[hacker voice]: Akira’s jacked??? I didn’t know he worked out that much??

ANN~: he looks really skinny right?

ANN~: did ryuji come with his stupid neon pink and green watermelon bullshit panties?

[hacker voice]: they stopped to talk rn

[hacker voice]: ryujis like flipping

[hacker voice]: asking if akira had done this before

[hacker voice]: apparently akira has sucked “some dicks”

[hacker voice]: AT LEAST TWO ARE FROM HIS CLASS

Makoto: Do you really need to keep us updated?

ANN~: yes

Makoto: sigh

[hacker voice]: @ANN~ ryuji’s wearing the pink underwear

ANN~: god I hate those

ANN~: @Tapable Leader <3 burn them when youre done

[hacker voice]: I hate doing this. This is just like when you’re watching a movie and there’s a unnecessary kissing scene and the entire scene is like 3 minutes of uncomfortable schlepping kissing noises.

ANN~: yeah that must be pretty awkward

[hacker voice]: it is super awkward. Akira owes me one

[hacker voice]: oh my god

[hacker voice]: ryuji scared the crap outta me he legit screamed right now

[hacker voice]: I don’t even need mics for this ryuji’s so loud

ANN~: whaaat? Ryuji? Loud?? Who would have thought…

-` RYUJI ´-: IM SORRY OK IM REALLY LIVID HERE

ANN~: WTF???? WHAT AR EYOU DOING TEXTING US???

-` RYUJI ´-: IDK WHAT TO DO WITH MY HANDS!!

ANN~: YOURE USELESS. I CANT BELIEVE YOU.

Tapable Leader <3: you can pull my hair, its fine

ANN~: HOW ARE YOU TEXTING EVEN??

Makoto: It’s been a while since we got an update.

[hacker voice]: do you want em?

Makoto: No, I simply worry how long this is lasting.

[hacker voice]: it’s gotten to a really graphic point. I’m not even watching anymore, its really really awkward… if you want the full juice you’ll have to buy the tape!

[hacker voice]: oh theyre done

[hacker voice]: they just threw the dirty clothes on the floor and went straight to sleep

[hacker voice]: orgasming must be really tiring…

ANN~: @Tapable Leader <3 @-` RYUJI ´- CONGRATS ON THE SECS!! We’re all really happy for you!! You guys deserve each other, really! If anyone says otherwise I’ll punch them!

Makoto: @Tapable Leader <3 @-` RYUJI ´- regardless of how reckless and utterly stupid this whole thing was, I’m genuinely glad you guys worked it out and are finally being honest with each other. It was awfully unhealthy for the team dynamic to watch you two dance around the issue of your attraction so, congratulations!

[hacker voice]: @Tapable Leader <3 @-` RYUJI ´- im not as good with expressing things as the other girls but im also happy I somehow brought you two together. Don’t worry I wont actually sell the sex tapes to anyone btw

[hacker voice]: (or will i)

ANN~: omfg

[hacker voice]: Yusuke’s typing a lot im concerned

Yusuke K.: I did not fully grasp the concept of what was truly going on in this chat tonight but after extensive research and questioning Ann on certain topics I now understand. Futaba’s attempts at prostituting Akira have somehow led into a nuptial encounter between Akira and Ryuji, the kind of which both parties have been secretly interested in for a long time. I also congratulate you both in your achievement for the act of intimacy born from fondness and admiration is one of the truest forms of adoration our kind have come across. I only wish for more of these enjoyable moments and if any of you would be so kind as to model for me the most beautiful sensation of your endless love I would be very thankful.

[hacker voice]: holy shit

[hacker voice]: just looking at this is making my eyes heavy

[hacker voice]: im going to sleep folks

ANN~: same

ANN~: we have to wake up before ryuji and akira to surprise them at leblanc

ANN~: we’ll bring a congrats on the sex cake

[hacker voice]: I’m in

Makoto: guess it won’t hurt to check on them

Yusuke K.: I would love to discuss this over some cake!

ANN~: deal, then! Good night, thieves <3

-` RYUJI ´-: you fuckers are gonna see some dicks

ANN~: that’s the plan dapper dan

ANN~: now go to bed!

thx for your time i hope you enjoyed it ideas that we did in the rp and i couldnt find a way to put here: > futaba leaks the nudes on the phan site > mishima warns akira of the thing and says he has a nice package > akira gets arrested for publicly posting pornography and akechi recognized him by the dick > "whats wrong with a little dick pic" "its not little" > makoto buys a copy of the akira/ryuji sex tape and resells it at school > mishima buys a copy

[feralbangtan]

Girl Meets Evil (M)

Member: Kim Seokjin (BTS) Genre: Angst/Smut/Mystery Warning: Slight gore and blood mentions AU: Demon!Jin Word count: 5.7k Playlist: Boy Meets Evil - We Don’t Talk Anymore - Monster - Last Dance Tagging: @cyquerslut (bc she my hoe) and @boldsuga (for beta-ing this fic)

Y/N had always lived a normal life, with a nine to five job, a few friends, her family and an occasional romance or two. She lived comfortably in her home despite it being mostly empty because after years of living there, it just didn’t feel like home anymore, she had started to move to the country side and everything seemed alright, it was a new start that she was ready for, even if it meant changing jobs and finally buying a new car she could rely on more than her current one, which was ever so slowly dying every day. It took her a few weeks, but she had finally moved completely into her new home, it felt like a breath of fresh air, but the house was rather old, it was something she could look past however, it was beautiful with its high ceilings, stained glass windows in the stairwell to the upstairs area, the wood floors that had recently been polished and fixed, but especially the chandeliers that hung proudly from the ceiling in both the living room and the dining room, it was absolutely breath taking. There was nothing that Y/N could complain about, it was beautifully decorated and quite cheap despite all the recent repairs and upgrades.

Her new neighbors had greeted her the second week of her living there, they were kind to her, but had some odd warnings that they gave her. Such as, don’t go in the basement at night, don’t leave your bedroom door open at night, put salt around your bed if you must sleep with the door open, all sorts of weird things, she took their words with a grain of salt considering that she didn’t know these two people, and their warnings could mean nothing. Everything they said just didn’t quite make sense to her, but she just shrugged it off, at least until weird things started happening around the house.

It all started on Tuesday morning, she had been awoken by the strong smell of sulfur in her room, she ended up opening the windows in her room to get the smell out, but it didn’t help. She went downstairs to eat her breakfast, but while she made her toast and coffee the coffee machine suddenly shorted out, with the short, the clock on the machine read 6:66, but she didn’t think clocks could do that, seeing as 6’s never appear in the second digit on a clock, it was mysterious, but she didn’t think much of it. Her toast was completely fine however, so she got it out of the toaster and put butter and jam on the slices and went to pour her coffee, which she hoped would be okay. The weird things continued throughout the day, everything was unusual, including when she was watching TV and it repeatedly turned off while she tried to watch her shows to her sink just running water out of nowhere and then turning off when she looked to see if anything was there. Whatever it was, it liked to play games. All of this continued until Thursday, which was laundry day, and of course it being night time, the warning that her neighbors had given her about being downstairs at night was scaring her, she just wanted to put everything in the washer and run back upstairs as quickly as possible, but that didn’t go as planned. The quickly throwing her clothes in the washer did, but running upstairs didn’t, something on the floor caught her eye. She walked over to what she saw peeking out from under one of the carpets that had accumulated in the basement, she flipped it up to find a rather large pentagram on the concrete floor, it was so confusing to her, why was it there in the first place?

She shrugged it off again and returned to her laundry, since she had to get things out of the dryer from earlier, but then she heard a noise to her right, so she looked over, seeing that one of her bottles of laundry detergent had fallen from the shelf, but what caught her eye even more was the pair of glowing red eyes in the back corner of the room. She needed to grab something, because at this point she was too scared to go back upstairs. She found a metal bat behind the washer and grabbed it quickly as the red eyes came closer to her. She had the bat ready, she was nearly frozen in fear, but she had a will to beat the shit out of whatever the fuck that thing was.

Out of the darkness, there came a man, completely nude, with sharp fingernails, jagged sharp teeth that pointed out of his mouth slightly, a long black tail that had a blue flame at the end of it, and curled horns attached to his head. He had a smirk on his face, amused with the girl with the bat, who was trembling in fear of what he could possibly do. He stopped a few feet in front of her, staring at her, his smirk getting bigger, until it turned into a smile and a burst of maniacal laughter, further confusing the girl.

“If you think that little old bat can hurt me, you are wrong honey.” The nude man said at the end of his laugh.

She looked at him, then to the bat, then back to him. She didn’t listen to his words, and struck him in the head with the bat and started running up the stairs while the odd man laughed about the hit to the head. She shut the door behind her and locked it, assuming it would stop him from coming upstairs, just as she starts walking away with her eyes closed she runs into something, or should she say someone.

“Boo.” The man said.

Y/N started trying to go backwards as quickly as possible, but ended up falling on to her ass as the man watched her. “W-who are you?”

“Glad you asked, I’m Seokjin, you can call me Jin though.” He said confidently.

“Okay, and uh… what the fuck are you?” She asked, fear nearly taking over her.

“Are humans really this stupid,” he sighed. “I’m a demon jackass.”

Y/N stood up quickly, and started running towards the backdoor. She made it outside and at least a few hundred feet away from the house, where she thought she would be fine, but she was oh so wrong.

“Did you really think running away from me was going to help you, because if you did, you’re just really dumb about demons.” He said with a click of his tongue.

“Fine, what do you want?” She asked, crossing her arms at the very naked man.

“Well first, you need to stop being rude. Second, what’s your name, and third, no, I’m not going to hurt you.” He said.

“My name is Y/N, and you better not hurt me, I’ll have to start swinging again.” She said.

“Nice to meet you Y/N, well uh, my job title isn’t to hurt the humans that live in that house, it’s my job to keep them in the house actually, as in, protect you. I know sounds weird for a demon to be a protector, but that’s just how it works.” He said as he awkwardly rubbed his head where he had been struck by a bat not too long ago.

“Excuse me… what?” She asked.

“You heard me, I know I look scary, but I’m really not here to hurt you, just trust me.” He said.

“Trust a demon? That sounds like some Bible bullshit that gets someone killed, no thank you, I’m crazy, good night hobo that lives in my basement.” She said as she turned around to start walking back to the house.

There was a loud sigh and a flash of light, Jin was now in front of Y/N again and he stopped her dead in her tracks, picked her up and put her over his shoulders. She pounded on his back as hard as she could, begging for him to put her down as he took both back to her house. When they re-entered the house Jin put her down on the island in the kitchen and put his hands on her legs.

“Listen here kid, you’re not crazy, I exist, I’m not some weird hobo that lives in your basement,” he started. “I’m just here for your protection, and plus there’s a portal to hell in your house and I’m pretty sure you’d rather have me protect you from all of the damned souls in hell coming through your house, granted there was a slip up on my end on Tuesday, but that’s beside the point here.”

“Slip up? Is that why my clock got fucked up, my TV kept turning off and my sink running until I looked?” She asked.

“Two of those were me. The coffee clock and the sink were me, I wanted attention. The TV on the other hand, that was my friend Jungkook, he was bored and wanted to mess around, that’s where I messed up, I let him come here.” He said with a sigh.

“Attention, you think scaring the living shit out of me, is a way to get my attention?” She asked angrily.

“Well it worked, didn’t it?” He said with a chuckle.

She groaned at his ways of getting attention and pushed his hands off her so she could get off. She completely ignored Jin as she walked upstairs and into her bedroom.

“I know you’re going to bed, so goodnight Y/N!” Jin yelled from downstairs.

A loud groan came from upstairs, “Goodnight Jin… and put on some god damn clothes for fucks sake.”

Jin was highly confused as to what meant since he had no clue what the fuck they were in the first place. The meeting of his new human to protect didn’t go as planned, but it made sense since humans are basically perpetually afraid of demons, thinking they all do harm, but Jin was the exact opposite of that, he couldn’t hurt humans, he was too kind to do that.

The next morning when Y/N woke up, she found Jin lying next to her in bed and all she could do was scream and jump out of her bed. “What the fuck are you doing in my bed!”

“Well good morning to you too sunshine.” He joked.

“Jin you can’t just do that, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” She said trying to catch her breath.

“Oh no, did I hurt you, are you okay?” He asked in a concerned tone.

“I’m fine, your just scared me is all.” She said looking at the man resting his head on his hand while he looked at her.

“I’m glad you’re okay. Oh yeah, you never finished your thing last night, so I grabbed the rest of that soft stuff in that weird machine and brought them upstairs for you.” He said with a smile.

“You grabbed my laundry?” She asked.

“I guess, I don’t really know what that is, but I’m assuming what you asked is correct.” He said.

Y/N sat back down on the bed to continue talking to Jin. “Who’s the stupid one now?”

“Oh, come on, are you really going to put that on me now, I’m a demon, my other humans always left when I revealed myself, so I know nothing about these human things.” He explained with a slight pout on his puffy lips.

“Does that mean I have to teach you everything?” She asked.

“Well at least stuff that can be useful.” He said with a confused tone.

“Oh jeez.” She said with a sigh.

Jin got out of bed and put his hands on his hips, “I am your protector, teach me your human ways!”

“Jin, clothes!” She exclaimed after realizing that Jin was still completely nude.

“What are clothes?” He asked sincerely.

“You see these things around my body that cover me, these are clothes.” She said.

“Oh… I understand, I was confused as to why you weren’t like I was.” He said.

She sighed. “I think I have clothes left from my friend Taehyung, since I stole them from him a while ago; I hope they’ll fit you.” She said.

“You have clothes for me?” He asked.

“Technically yes.” She said as she walked over to her wardrobe.

With the doors open Jin could hear echoes of loud screaming coming from there, he ran over quickly and looked at the wardrobe as Y/N pulled clothes for him out of it, but the echoes of screaming still emitted. He guessed there was another portal to hell in the wardrobe and that scared him, he didn’t want her in there much longer because of the fear that he had that a damned soul would come out and try to get her. He got distracted for a second while looking at the wardrobe, seeing photos of her and her friends all on the mirror side of the wardrobe, he looked shocked when he saw someone who looked like Jungkook in one of the photos.

“Hey Y/N, who’s this?” He asked pointing to the photo of the man who looked like Jungkook.

“Oh uhm, that was my late-boyfriend Jungkook, he died two years ago in a car accident upon impact along with my friend Jimin, but Taehyung survived the accident, he has severe survivors guilt because of the whole ordeal.” She answered him before shutting the wardrobe.

“That’s funny, because I know a Jimin and a Jungkook, but you know about the Jungkook since I brought him up, do you think they’re the same ones?” He asked.

“Maybe, I wouldn’t know, I haven’t seen them, so there’s no telling.” She said as she started pushing clothes towards him.

“I can probably let them come here, assuming I controlled them a bit to keep them in one area.” He said.

“You don’t have to, it might hurt me a bit too much to see Jungkook again, assuming it’s the same one.” She said.

“What’s the harm in seeing him again?” He asked.

“I don’t love him anymore, I’ve moved on from him, I forced myself to, I needed to, I didn’t want to stay sad forever because of what happened.” She said.

“Just one more time won’t hurt, you can say your final words to him like you probably wished you could when it he died, it could bring you closure.” He suggested.

“I suppose, but please get dressed first, I don’t need to see your dick all the time.” She said with a sigh.

He smiled and tried to figure out how he was supposed to put them on, but Y/N had to give him instructions on how to put the clothes on, and when he was finished he felt a little bit more comfortable than before. He sighed as he walked over to the wardrobe and did incantations in Latin to bring Jungkook and Jimin into the human world, and with a flash there they were. Both naked, but there.

“Oh my god, Y/N.” Jungkook said in shock.

The boy ran to her and brought her into an embrace. He was happy to see her again.

“Hi Jungkook, hello Jimin.” She said.

“You have no idea how much I missed you, I never stopped thinking about you, Jimin has to shut me up about you while we’re in hell because of how much I talk about you.” Jungkook spilled out.

“Jungkook, sweetie, slow down. I missed you too, I really did, I’m happy to see you.” She said with a smile.

“Did you miss me too?” Jimin asked.

“Of course, I did Jimin, how can I not miss you, you were my best friend.” She said.

Jimin smiled the smile that she knew, hardly anything had changed since she had last saw him.

“Now if you too would both slow down for like two seconds, I can get out what I need to say,” she started looking at the two boys in front of her. “Jungkook, I’m sorry that I didn’t get to say goodbye to you when you left the world, and I’m sorry that you had to die, you didn’t deserve it, and neither did Jimin. Tae and I miss you both, Tae a bit more since he’s still dealing with the survivor’s guilt, but I love you both, and I hope you two can stay safe and keep each other happy.”

Jungkook and Jimin both had tears in their eyes as Y/N kissed both of their heads and let Jin take them back through the portal, she had tears streaming down her face as they went back, but she was happy to finally say goodbye the right way. Jin stood there for a moment before bringing her into a hug, letting her cry into his chest for a moment before she finally calmed down and wrapped her arms around Jin’s waist to return the hug.

“Are you okay now?” He asked.

“I’m great now.” She said with a smile on her face.

A month passed by, Jin had learned quite a bit since then, he learned how to do laundry, how to cook (and found he was quite good at it), he learned how to read a book that was a lot harder than the weird children’s books he had been reading in the basement, but most importantly, he learned how to wear clothes the right way and what order to put things on in. He knew basic stuff, he also learned a lot about Y/N, who he didn’t think would she would open herself up to. When she told him that her friend Taehyung was coming over he got a bit jealous, since he was so used to her attention constantly being on him, and he knew he was going to raise hell, he’d just shift into cat form and raise hell that way. When Taehyung arrived Y/N greeted him and let him inside, and Tae being an easily impressed boy, marveled at the house decorations and how nice everything was. Jin was standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at Tae with daggers piercing through the boy as he stared. When they moved to the living room Jin decided it was time. He shifted into a black cat with sleek fur and beautifully green eyes, so as he pranced down the stairs and into Y/N’s lap, he seemed proud of himself. Y/N knew exactly what Jin was doing, and she didn’t quite appreciate it, she picked him up and looked at him.

“Jin you better behave.” She said in a stern voice.

All Jin did was meow back at her and Taehyung looked excited.

“You got a cat and you didn’t tell me!” He exclaimed.

“Yeah, I did, but uh, I wouldn’t recommend petting him, he’s a possessive little shit and only likes my attention.” She said, scratching behind Jin’s cat ears.

“Aw that sucks, I wanted to pet him and give him love.” Taehyung said, pouting out his bottom lip.

“Maybe one day Tae, just not today.” She said with a sigh.

Jin did anything but behave. He scratched at Taehyung’s shoes and feet, he knocked over Taehyung’s glass on more than one occasion, but what finally did it, Jin bit Taehyung’s hand when he made the terrible decision to try to pet him despite Y/N’s warning. Taehyung left in a hurry to get to the doctor after that, and as soon as he left Jin took his normal form and looked at Y/N.

“Jin, why do you do this, I just wanted to hang out with Taehyung, he’s not going to hurt me.” Y/N asked with a long sigh following.

“I don’t care. I’m jealous when you give other people attention, I can’t help it okay.” He said.

“You’re jealous?” She asked.

“Yes, I’m jealous, it’s just how I am and because of the feelings I have for you.” He said.

“Jin, are you trying to convey that you like me?” She asked rhetorically.

Jin only nodded at her and all she could do was sigh. She walked over to the boy and grabbed his chin, he looked confused, but he soon figured out what she was doing. She pressed her lips lightly on to his, giving him a soft kiss, before she could pull away, Jin wrapped his arms around her neck and deepened the kiss, he felt his body heat up, he’s had this feeling before, but never this extreme. He wasn’t sure where any of this was going, but he knew everything thing that he was feeling was intense and it was all going down to his cock, that was eager to please that moment.

The two moved to the black leather couch in the living room, Y/N straddling Jin’s lap. She started grinding her hips into Jin’s very apparent bulge in his sweatpants, the friction between the two was delicious and left Jin breathless. Jin ran his hands up Y/N’s side to get to her breasts. He put both hands on each breast and lightly squeezed at them to get a reaction out of her, and which he did. He got a muffled moan out of her and he couldn’t help but to eat up the noise she made. Jin wanted to feel everything and not just her clothed breasts, he slid his hands under her shirt and ripped it over her head, to discover Y/N wasn’t wearing a bra, her nipples were hardened, completely aroused by Jin’s touch, he couldn’t help but to roll one of them in his fingers, causing more moans to leak out of Y/N’s mouth. She had, had enough of Jin being completely clothed, which seemed odd since she had spent so much time trying to just get him to wear them in the first place, but it didn’t change that she wanted him naked and she wanted it now, she tugged at the bottom of his shirt and he helped her get it over his head. She roughly placed a kiss on his swollen lips and moved south, kissing his neck and torso, leaving hickies down his stomach to the waist band of his sweatpants. She yanked down the pants and boxer briefs that Jin was wearing, watching his cock slap against his stomach with a thud. She grabbed his cock and started stroking it slowly and listen to the soft moans coming from Jin’s mouth. Y/N lowered her head down and licked the vein on the underside of his cock, from base to tip before leading his cock into her mouth and sucking on the tip before taking his cock completely in her mouth, hollowing out her cheeks, sucking his dick and trying to swallow him down without gagging too much on the thickness of cock. Jin’s fingers tangled themselves into Y/N’s hair as she sucked the life out of him through his cock. She continued her ministrations until Jin had to push her head up before he came down her throat. He spent absolutely no time flipping her over and ripping her shorts and panties off her, he wanted to destroy her in the best way possible. He ran the tip of his dick over her wet folds, enjoying the feeling of his dick finally getting the attention it needed

“You’re so wet, and it’s all for me, isn’t that just wonderful.”

He gripped her hip with one hand, and lead his cock to her dripping slit with the other. He slid in slowly, torturing Y/N’s senses, he hadn’t done anything yet and she was still clenching around him. When he was finally all the way inside he smirked and slowly pulled out, just so his tip was the only thing inside her, and her whimpering was music to his ears. He slammed himself back into her, putting his other hand on her hip, he gripped hard to her and set a brutal pace. The sounds of slapping skin echoed through the room, along with the delicious sounds of Y/N’s moans. She had a familiar pit in her stomach, she was getting close to her climax, she couldn’t even think straight with him pounding into her.

“J-Jin I’m gonna cum.” She moaned out.

“You better ask to cum, or you’re going to get punished.” He warned.

Y/N couldn’t keep her moans inside her anymore, with every caress of Jin’s cock against her g- spot she could feel herself getting closer.

“Jin can I cum please?” She begged through a moan.

“Hmm, since you asked so nicely, you may.” Jin said with a smirk.

His hips went faster, slamming into her more frequently, the pace change brought Y/N to her climax, her walls clenching down around Jin, he continued his pace through her orgasm, chasing after his own. After a few more thrusts of his brutal pace he shot his load inside of her, it filled her up deliciously and afterwards Jin collapsed on top of her, smiling at her.

“That was…” Y/N said breathlessly.

“Fantastic.” Jin finished.

“Yeah.” Y/N said with a laugh.

The two looked at each other, smiles plastered to their faces, they were both happy with what they had done.

“So, what are we now?” Jin asked, placing his head on Y/N’s chest.

“Whatever you wanna be Jin.” She said, softly running her fingers through his sweaty hair.

“Be with me?” He asked, perking his head up a bit.

“Of course.” She said, pressing a kiss into his head.

Eventually the two fell asleep on the couch, Y/N’s heartbeat lulling Jin to sleep, and Jin’s breathing comforting Y/N enough for her eyes to flutter shut.

Months went by with Y/N and Jin together as a couple, it was quite an interesting pair, a demon and a human, it didn’t seem quite right, but it worked so well. They cared so much for each other it was almost unreal, but they enjoyed every moment of it, making it seem like it was their last day together every day. Jin still had one question remaining in his mind, and it was if Y/N wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, but not in the way someone would think. Sure, he wanted to marry her, but what he wanted, he wanted to turn her into a demon, so it could be forever. He was sure she’d say yes, she was happy with Jin, even with his very odd Mario obsession. He wanted this so bad, he just didn’t know how to bring it up to her. That was until he set up a picnic in their back yard so they could watch the stars together and so he can ask her his main question. He was finally ready to ask and had a pretty good way of doing it too.

The two sat under the stars, pointing out the constellations in the sky and sipping on red wine, enjoying each other’s as time passed. Now Jin was ready to ask her, it was now or never.

“Hey Y/N, you know how I’m a demon right?” He asked.

“Well yeah, I can’t really forget that, why?” She replied.

“I was wondering if maybe, you’d want to become a demon with me, so we can be together, forever.” He said hopefully.

“Jin… I don’t know. I don’t want to leave life on Earth, I love you, I really do, like more than I ever loved Jungkook, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to just jump into being a demon.” She explained.

“We don’t have to leave Earth life, you can be a demon and still live on Earth, I mean look at me.” He said.

“If that’s the case… I suppose, but how would that work?” She asked.

“It’s not as hard as it sounds, but essentially, I bite myself and have you drink from me, since you know, demon blood, and then I bite you, but it has to be on a pentagram and somewhere safe, since it’s kind of well… a little dangerous.” He said.

“Well I know where a pentagram is, but is it safe down there, in the basement?” She asked.

“It’s probably the safest place we could do it honestly.” He said.

“Okay, then when do you want to do it, I’m okay with whenever.” She said, peering into his brown eyes.

“We can do it now, if you want.” He said.

She just nodded and the two went back inside and into the basement, which didn’t seem so scary now that she knew what was going on. When they got downstairs Jin had her stand in the pentagram that had been hidden away under the carpets. Jin looked at her, asking if she was ready, all she could do was nod, and he smiled. Jin rolled up his sleeve, and bit into his skin, his sharp teeth penetrating his veins and his blood slowly dripping down his arm. He brought his arm to Y/N’s mouth, allowing her to drink it. It went down her throat slowly, it was warm and tasted the way sulfur smelled, it was awful, but she had to go through it. When she had enough, Jin took his arm away from her and licked the excess blood off his arm and walked directly to Y/N and sunk her teeth into shoulder, she screamed out in pain, but when he released her, the teeth marks in her shoulder were in a perfect circle, Jin smiled, taking one of his sharp nails and dragging it into her skin, creating the star, making it into a complete pentagram and then let the blood on his finger nail drip on to the floor around her. After the blood circled her in, she collapsed. Jin knew she would be out for at least a few minutes, this wasn’t the first time he had done this, in fact it was the fifth time he’d done it, not all for the same reason, this was the only time he’d done it for love and not for someone who was greedy. Y/N was out for 20 minutes, and when she woke up, she began changing. She had begun growing horns, her finger nails had gotten longer and pointer, she had grown a tail, but with a purple flame on the end, and the final thing that changed was her eyes, the glowed red for a moment and went back to normal, Jin smirked, it had worked completely and he was proud of himself.

“Now we can be together forever.” Jin said, helping Y/N up off the floor.

Y/N smiled at Jin and hugged him, she was the happiest she could have been, everything now seemed right with the world. They went back outside to look at the stars again, but before they could even get outside, they ended up being taken somewhere else. It was dark and cold, it almost seemed like it was some type of prison.

“God damnit, why does he do this?” Jin groaned.

“Who, what?” Y/N asked in a confused tone.

“Well, looks like we’re going to go see my brother.” He said with a sigh, grabbing on to Y/N’s hand to bring her with him.

It took them five minutes to get to where they were going, and there he was, Jin’s brother, nude like everyone else. Jin let go of Y/N’s hand and stormed to his brother.

“What do you want now Namjoon?” Jin asked.

“Well, first, you’re stupid, second you finally tied yourself down, and third, you haven’t been doing your job, your highness.” The man named Namjoon listed.

“Your highness?” Y/N asked.

“He’s the king of hell.” Namjoon said bluntly.

“I forgot to mention it.” Jin said.

“Huh… hot.” Y/N said.

“What do you think dad is gonna say about you turning her into a demon and being with her?” Namjoon asked.

“Well, considering he was the one that sent me to her, pretty damn happy.” Jin said.

“Wait what?” Namjoon asked.

“She moved into the old house. Dad told me to protect her from everything that could happen to her, help her with closure, I’d say I did my job pretty well.” Jin said happily.

“Sorry, but your old house?” Y/N questioned.

“It was a long time ago, but that’s beside the point, I was supposed to protect you and that’s exactly what I did.”

“Were you supposed to fall in love?” Namjoon asked.

“He didn’t say anything about not falling in love with her, but you better be nice to her since she’s gonna be the queen of hell.” Jin warned Namjoon.

“I suppose I can be nice. Speaking of being the queen, when the hell is there going to be a wedding for you two?” Namjoon asked.

“Whenever I feel like it.” Jin said crossing his arms dramatically.

“Why do I love this dork?” Y/N asked with a giggle.

“I suppose I can’t stop you two.” Namjoon said with a sigh.

“Nope, you can’t, now leave so I can talk to Y/N since this wasn’t the plan.” Jin said, shooing Namjoon out the door.

Namjoon just shook his head and walked out, mumbling about something being wrong with the pit that was in the center of this world.

“So, uh, welcome to hell. I’m pretty sure my dad won’t let us go back to Earth, I know that’s what you wanted and I’m sorry.” Jin said, awkwardly scratching the nape of his neck.

“Jin, baby. Listen to me. It’s okay, I’m okay with this… my king.” Y/N said with a smirk.

Jin could only smirk at the girl. “Whatever you say my queen.”

A week later the two got married, and enjoyed everything about it. So now here they sit, together on Jin’s throne, while he watches over hell, the two had completely forgotten about life on Earth. Y/N had decided hell was so much better, and loved watching and ruling it with the love of her life at her side.

“Breaking news: Y/N L/N, age 25, is still missing, if you’ve seen her, please call your local police. Y/N L/N, missing since June of last year.”

[sceawere]

crush | alfie solomons

@james-kezia-delaney requested alfie + age difference

“What did you even do?”

“Crushed a glass, don’t worry yourself”

You were picking tiny fragments of glass out of Alfie’s hand, tweezing them carefully. He kept laughing at the grimaces you pulled as you went, squinting and baring your teeth when you pulled out a tricky piece.

You and he had been dancing around each other ever since you started working for him a few months back, consisting of probably a few too many late nights drinking in the office than was proper between a boss and his employee. Nothing had ever really happened but there was a feeling there, a tension. For fucks sake, you’d giggled.

Between cleaning him up after ‘business meetings’, making sure he actually ate and slept at some point, and going round to check on his house and make sure his staff got paid while he was otherwise engaged, you felt like you were already bloody married to the man. All without even one drunken fumble on his desk. It was a fucking shame, in your opinion.

“On purpose?”

“Not entirely, no”

You flicked your eyes up under your lashes and shook your head at him.

“It’s a good job I’m here. How did you ever manage without me?”

“Been wondering that myself quite a bit lately”

Your lips pulled into a lopsided grin, reaching behind you to drop the tweezers onto the desk and reach for the bottle of fluid, bringing your cloth covered knee up to support his hand.

“Right, this is going to sting”

“Don’t go getting blood all over my floor”

“You got glass all over it!”

“Exactly, don’t add to the mess”

You rolled your eyes, peeling his fingers back a little to open up his palm. You gently tipped the bottle, dispensing a tiny amount of disinfectant. You set about carefully cleaning the scrapes on the skin, checking each tear as you went.

“You look like you know what you’re doing here”

You scoffed a laugh.

“You should hope so”

“You got training?”

“Uh, you could say that. Kind of got thrown into it”

“What, were you a nurse in the war or something?”

“No, I was too young. I tried, they wouldn’t take me. By the time they would, I was already working at the war office so”

You shrugged, your thumb tracing down his forearm to catch a stray bead of cleanser. He brought his good hand up to cover over yours, flexing his fingers around the digits and squeezing slightly.

“What d’ya mean ‘too young’?”

“I mean I was too young. Is that not self-explanatory?”

“How old were you?”

You split your gaze between his hand and his eyes and he was looking increasingly worried with ever glance.

“When the war started?”

“Yeah”

“I…don’t think I’d had my birthday yet. No, yeah, it was after so – 15”

Alfie let out a rush of air from his lungs and tried to cover it with a cough.

“You alright?”

“I’m-yeah. Could you do me a favour, love? Could you stop touching me, there’s a good girl,” he pulled his arm back, patting your knee to lower it from where you’d perched it on the edge of his chair “Thanks. I’m going to just, yeah that’s perfect, just leave that on the desk. Thank you, I’ll fix this myself”

You reached back out for the cloth and he swerved it out of the way.

“It’s…alright. I can-there’s only the bandage left and I-“

“No, no, love. That’s alright, you go back to your desk. There’s a good…girl. Fuck. Right, off, go”

He waved his hand off, avoiding your eyes. You flicked them back and forth, confused as to his sudden change in demeanour.

“Al…right then”

You stepped off the edge of the desk, standing for just a second to check he really wanted you to leave. You squinted, turning off with a confused tilt of the head.

Alfie watched as you shut the door behind you, fixing your hair and half looking back over your shoulder as you walked past the windows that framed his office.

When you disappeared off behind the barrels again, he pulled open the drawer with his good hand. Out came the bottle of whisky, uncorked with his teeth, and took a long, deep swig. The slam of the bottle on the desk sent the papers shuffling and he sighed.

“15. Fucking hell, Alfie. You were off strangling bastards and she was…playing with her fucking dolls probably”

He leaned back in the chair, looking up at the ceiling. He let a whine out as he shuffled his neck on the headrest.

“It’s happening. You’re officially a dirty old man”

A light knock came on the glass panel of the door and Ollie inched in.

“You…doing alright there, boss?”

“Oliver. I’m going to need another bottle”

He raised the bottle in the air as a demonstration, keeping his eyes up on the chipped paintwork.

“I’ll bring one. Can I ask…only I noticed the new girl was in here before and then she was acting weird and I-“

Alfie rolled his arm down, letting a finger free from the grip to point at him.

“Did you know she were barely twenty summat when you hired her?

“I-yes? Not exactly, but I thought she was about that. Is it a problem?”

“Why would it be a problem?”

“I-it…wouldn’t?”

Alfie scowled, bringing his arm back in and sitting up in one movement. He turned his head towards Ollie.

“Why would you think there was a problem?”

“It seemed like you thought there was a problem there”

“No…no…why would there be? I mean, she’s an adult now and she can-“he waved his free hand up towards the window, forgetting it was injured. He turned his palm back around to see where the first swells of blood were working their way back to the surface.

“Fuck, boss. Do you need that seeing to?”

“No, it’s fine. There’s no problem”

He brought his hand back down to lay upturned against the desk.

“I won’t need the bottle after all, its fine. You can go back to work”

“You sure?”

He hummed a response, rolling his tongue around his teeth while he considered. He sat for a long time in the quiet office, considering.

“No, there’s no problem. Not a problem there. You’re…talking to yourself though. So that might be a sign of something you fucking…”

He slammed back into the chair again. He brought his good hand up to rub at his eyes.

“Fuck. This is a problem”

-

You didn’t directly deal with Alfie for a few days after that. It always seemed to be Ollie who he needed, even for things you usually covered. He’d become an intermediary and with the tight, almost sympathetic smiles he was giving you every time you briefed him on something to pass over, he seemed to have acknowledge the strange change himself.

After a few more times, you were sick of acting like it was business as usual and tip-toeing around. Frustration was becoming an increasingly predominant emotion since you took this job.

“Ollie!”

You cornered him in the corridor, shuffling him back against the stack of barrels.

“What’s happening here?”

“What is happening?”

“What do you mean?”

“With me and Alfie?”

“Why would I know anything about that?”

“Because you’re the only person he’s talked to in over a week”

“He talked to the boys on the floor yesterday”

“He barked at them. Aggressively, and with fervour. He might have actually barked at one point”

Ollie sighed, eyes flicking up and down the walkway as if you were about to stuff half a brick into his jacket and each burrow away into opposite ends of the night.

“This is exactly what I mean”

“What?”

“You acting like this, its confirmation that something is happening that I’ve been left out on! He’s been avoiding me for longer than he ever has. He won’t even look in my direction!

A week ago we were lying on his office floor, half pissed on whisky, while he told me about his goddamn mother and now he won’t look at me?! What the fuck happened?!”

Ollie sighed again, stuttering about for a few moments until you slapped the side of his head.

“Snap out of it and get to it, boy”

“Don’t call me ‘boy’ - I’m older than you”

“You’re barely…,”a realisation suddenly came to you and Ollie looked over your face confused as you dropped back against the wall “shit fuck shit. That’s it! He got weird when I told him-shit. Well, shit.”

“When you told him…?”

“That I was 15 when the war started”

“He asked me if I knew your age when you left. He seemed put out”

You nodded, pulling your cheek at one side in a grimace.

“Yeah, I think maybe Alfie has a bit of a complex”

“I think at this point he actually has a collection. Thinking of buying him some kind of display case actually, might do a whip round for his birthday”

You smiled at him, glad for the break.

“At least I know how to address this now. Thanks, Ol”

You clapped his shoulder, walking back into the main room.

“I think I…did absolutely nothing actually but…nice to be appreciated”

-

You blew through the door to the office, working your way to his side before dropping the stack of carefully labelled folders onto the desk in front of him. The papers let out a thwack as they slapped against the surface, a rush of displaced air fluttering the edges of the newspaper he’d been studying. Alfie turned his head and followed the sway of your dress up to look at you, looking startled.

“Uh…”

“I need signatures on these orders- here, here, and...also here”

You looped crosses next to the right lines, Alfie following with his eyes. You threw the pen lazily across the desk and it clattered its way over to rest.

“Then the order forms for next month need your eye on them before I ship them out”

Thwack.

“The leases on two of your buildings are due up soon so I rang your lawyer and had them sort it. You have a meeting to finalise things this afternoon. I pushed the Thompson meeting because quite frankly, fuck that guy”

Thwack.

“Here are the amended contracts back – no significant quarrels”

Thwack.

“Output reports for the week”.

“Sweet-I mean Miss-“

Thwack.

“Your guy sent the report on the Italians activities. It’s riveting and by that I mean dense and mostly incomprehensible to me”

Thwack.

“Payroll for the house staff”

Thwack.

“Are you-“

“Payroll for the informants and police buy-offs”

Thwack.

“Actually I-“

“Autopsy report-that one was unexpected”

Thwack.

“Yes, that’s-“

“More…things to do with dead people”

Thwack.

Thwack.

Thwack.

“Oh, and there’s this as well”

You turned towards him. He was sat with his elbow on the table, fist over his mouth, eyebrows raised. He looked like a puppy who’d been told off for yapping as you handed him the final paper.

“What is it?”

“It’s a note handwritten by yours truly asking if you’re a baby”

He stalled slightly from where he’d been lifting his glasses, looking up at you.

“Sorry, did you say-“

“I asked,” you bent at the waist, hands wrapping around the armrest of his chair. You made sure you had full eye contact before continuing “if you were a baby. A tiny little whiny baby. There was some other colourful imagery in the first draft but I dumped it. I found being succinct was actually more effective that any florid dramatics I could scrounge from my otherwise wasted literature courses”

“Ah”

“Yes”

He pursed his lips, his eyes flaring then squinting. He leant back in the chair almost imperceptibly, the small settling noise the wood made one of the only indicators.

“That’s an interesting choice you made there”

“Uh-huh, I thought that as well”

“Very interesting”

“How turned on are you right now?”

A noise halfway between a hum and a squeak came from his throat and you couldn’t help the smirk that made its way to your face. Your tongue poked out to wet your lip before you bit down on it and Alfie brought his eyes down to watch the movement.

“That would be…very unprofessional of me, to say the least”

You shrugged.

“I wouldn’t mind”

“Well, as your employer…and your elder” he grimaced a little at that and you pushed air through your nose, sucking your cheeks in a little “I think I should take the higher moral ground there and not entertain such an action”

He cleared his throat, dropping his glasses back to his chest and placing the note on the desk before him. He tapped the ink with the point of his finger.

“This is…an interesting word choice”

“You flaked because I’m younger than you?!”

“I did nothing of the sort”

“You were all over me before you found out-“

“I did nothing of the sort, I think you’ll find”

“You were flirting. You were. Don’t pull that face! You-“you stood, pointing your finger at him “were flirting. You were all up for it – until you found out my age. And it’s stupid!”

“It’s not stupid. It’s not”

“I’m a fucking adult, I can fuck who I want. So, that’s not the problem. You’re an adult, and you want to fuck me. So, that’s not the problem. Be honest. You want to fuck me and then make me breakfast, because your mother’s recipe for those spicy egg things sounded incredible. And then take me to a goddamn art gallery and tell me I’m pretty. Admit it! You want those things”

“Those are…incredibly specific”

“I’ve had time to think about this…between you flirting and ignoring me!”

“Will you please lower your voice?”

“No! Admit it!”

“Admit what? You’ve accused me of a lot of things today”

“Ok first, you like me”

“Agreed”

“And-yeah…you do?”

“Yes. In the fuck-and-make-you-breakfast kind of way, just to clarify”

“Right, yes, thanks. I did want to check on that last part”

He nodded, bringing his hand up to scratch at his ear and you mirrored the action to tuck your hair back. Your energy had suddenly left you and now you just felt a bit awkward.

“But you won’t anything about it?”

“I don’t think its best, no”

“Why?”

He sighed, shuffling the papers about on the desk.

“Sweetheart”

“Don’t bullshit me with…just be honest with me, please”

“I’m a decade older than you. I’m a…not a good man. You’re young and sweet and you deserve the chance to find someone better. You have time to find someone better. Don’t just go with me because I’m exciting and it’s all exciting and you don’t have the time behind you to know what the decision you’re making is even about”

“I want you!”

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about-“

“What, because I’m young?! You were my age when you went off to fight a war but I’m too stupid to pick who I want to possibly try and date? How does that make any sense?”

“You’re not stupid, you’re not. That’s categorically and clearly untrue. And those are different things”

“They are because I’m not going to die because we kiss, Alfie. That’s fucking stupid”

“No but being with me means you might and you know that. You know that. You just slapped a fucking autopsy on my desk and you’re pratting about like this” he slammed his hand down over the papers “if you don’t want me to treat you like a fucking schoolgirl with a crush, don’t act like one!”

You stepped back, rolling your jaw. You looked away, blinking. You had nothing to say.

“You can give the forms to Ollie when you’re done”

You swung around to leave and you heard the creak of his chair as he stood.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t-“

“I actually would like if you didn’t speak to me at the moment, Mr Solomons. I would actually prefer…”

You stayed where you were, halfway through the doorway. You leant your shoulder against the door, draping your fingers over the handle.

“You can give the forms to Ollie, he’ll get them to me”

You walked out, pulling the door shut behind you. You grabbed your bag and coat on the way passed and walked straight out the building.

-

The papers were stacked neatly at your station the next day, with an envelope on top. You noted the looping letters – Alfie’s hand – before checking the contents. You brow scrunched as you read over the lines, dropping the envelope to the table absentmindedly.

“If it’s not right, I can do another one. Not really used to this sort of thing. Most people leave the employ of this place, it’s because they’ve gone to the fucking ground, not an interview”

You looked up at his voice, watching him lumber towards you.

“Is your back ok?”

“I slept on the sofa, it’s taking a while to get going this morning”

“I’ve told you – get a proper bed put in upstairs and then you can-“

“I know, I know. You gonna use it?”

“The…bed?”

He smiled, leaning back against the edge of your desk. His hands gripped at the wood on either side of him.

“The letter of recommendation”

“No. No. Why would I?”

He brought his hands up to cross over his chest, his thumbs tucked out.

“You’d be well within your rights to tell me to sod off after yesterday”

“I like working here”

“I honestly don’t understand why”

You smiled nervously, folding the letter back and laying it over the envelope.

“Sometimes David brings me biscuits from his sister and they’re really good. If this was actually a bakery, I’d suggest you hire her but…”

He was smiling still when you looked up to him, his eyes crinkled at the side.

“I didn’t mean what I said yesterday. No, actually that’s a lie. But I do apologise for my tone”

“I understood what you meant. It wasn’t entirely without merit”

“I don’t think you’re immature or stupid or anything like that, I wouldn’t dare suggest. But I stand by it. You’re a good girl-a good woman, forgive me. And I do think you deserve better. I couldn’t live with myself if I felt I was even in the least bit taking advantage”

“I deserve what I want, too. Don’t you think?”

“I do”

“And if that’s you? If I’ve made a considered and honest decision? If I’ve weighed up my choices and thought about the consequences. If I prove that to you – would you consider it?”

“You don’t need to prove yourself to me, love”

“Obviously I do”

“No. It’s not about proving we’re worth each other, that’s bullshit”

“Then what-“

He pushed forward and your breath caught as his palm came to hold your jaw. You looked up to him as his eyes considered you. Neither of you said anything but you felt like you were continuing the conversation regardless. You took a deep breath, raising your brow, and swaying slightly in place.

“I’m not getting any younger”

He laughed at that, his thumb tracing over the tint in your cheek.

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me, aren’t you, woman?”

“How do you want to go? I’ll make a note”

“One date. One. We’ll go from there”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. One. Don’t get excited”

“Oh no, I’m sure that’ll be an emotion that definitely won’t be expressed”

“Better not be”

“I’ll be sure to be exceedingly dour”

“If you could, I would prefer it”

Your face broke out in a smile and he cleared his throat.

“Stop doing that”

“Smiling?”

“Looking fucking happy like that. I don’t like what it does to your eyes”

“My eyes?”

“Hmmm”

“What do they look like?”

“Nice”

“They look nice?”

“They do”

“I’m very sorry”

“Yeah, you better be. Fucking liberty”

He back-stepped, knocking against the desk and you threw your hands up to cover the laugh that broke from you. He groaned and swore under his breath.

“You alright there, old man?”

His finger flew up to point at you.

“You ever call me that again and-“

“You’ll do what?”

“Absolutely nothing, probably, because by your tone I’d only be reinforcing some sick little perversion of yours”

“Oh! How dare you!”

He grumbled as he turned to leave and you bounced in place on your toes.

“You’re going to fall in love with me, Alfie Solomons! I just know it. In fact, I’m fucking betting on it!”

“Make sure you check whether he’s one of mine before you put your money down, love. I’m not having you clear me out twice”

 -

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