#the wording and use of “lol but okay” reads as condescending. it read as if you’re putting me/others down for feeling how we feel.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you want to turn back the clock and jungkook wants you to stay.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / word count: 5.8k

content/warnings: mistreatment of service workers / oc felt inappropriately touched by a customer (only mentioned in passing) / (oc works part-time in a restaurant) (then quits) / another dive into oc’s lore / allusion to death / grief grief grief / lots of crying :( / jk wants to move in together :") / mention of s*x (24/7=heaven?) / mention of period blood (they’re in diff contexts js to be clear lol) / u will get pissed and cry and laugh it’s fun <3

playlist! knees - iu ; chinese satellite - phoebe bridgers ; love wins all - iu

> in which masterlist

note: contains lil flashblacks from the giving up drabbles ^^ can be found in the timeline masterlist above this incase u haven’t read them and want to ^^ listen to love wins all when jungkook tells oc to wear their seatbelt (trust me). tried to encapsulate the epiphany of oh. everything’s going to be okay because i am loved when i’m at my lowest. as always reblogs & feedback are appreciated :") come chat!!

—

the rusty swing-set creaks as you unsteadily swing back and forth, staring lifelessly at your white socks and shoes stained with burnt orange. you look up to the sky but the moon and the stars are shrouded by the clouds. not even your favorite snack can poison your sadness with optimism. mouthful of bungeoppang, but you taste nothing, and every swallow only adds to the heaviness weighing on your chest.

your shift should be ending by now, which means you probably should be heading home, but your limbs have given up and refuses to move.

jungkook’s special ringtone ceaselessly disrupts the night scene’s quiet, but there’s no point in answering his calls when you know no words would come out of you.

“are you an imbecile?! you can’t understand basic instructions?!”

“ma’am, i’m so sorry. i’ll take it back and give you the right ord-”

“we’re fucking starving! move faster!”

you flinch as the bowl collides with the tiled floor, producing an ear-splitting sound that reverberates throughout the entire restaurant. you want to give the woman the benefit of the doubt and believe that she just shoved the bowl a little too harshly due to her frustration, but you have a hand over your mouth not due to shock, but the inexplicable pain of having your skin burnt by the piping hot soup… and she’s just… there.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! please understand. she’s just in a bad mood. she’s not- she’s not usually like this.”

you stand on your spot, frozen and speechless, as her husband profusely apologizes. you’re only jolted out from trance when you feel him wiping your legs with crumpled tissue papers, a little too farther up for your comfort. a fleeting tug-of-war ensues when you forcefully rip them away from his hands. you thank him despite not meaning it.

you grip the edge of your skirt as you sit on your heels, picking up the broken shards of glass scattered across the floor. a concerned co-worker swoops in with a broom and you instantly jump the opportunity to save yourself from the mortifying stares, mumbling another thank you as you take your leave.

“you said table six.”

“____, i’m sorry. that was a fault on my part.”

your manager observes your current state. his stare lingers at your feet.

“but they don’t know that! she literally burnt me!”

“look, we don’t have to take this too far. it couldn’t have been that hot. we can see you’re still walking.” his condescending tone makes you feel so small, but it fuels the anger inside of you. “you don’t have to pay for the damages, so let’s just put this behind us.”

you gasp in disbelief, and it borders on a laugh. you feel crazy. you can’t believe this is actually happening to you. he can’t be fucking serious.

the workers in the kitchen remain quiet as tension arises, minds a tornado of thoughts but mouths remaining shut in fear of getting on the bad side of their superior.

“well you…” you hastily strip off your apron, bunching it up into one big ball. “don’t have to pay me anymore, because i fucking quit! i hope this place burns down!”

and you ensure that it hits him on the face before you turn around to march out of the kitchen. on the way out of the restaurant, you nonchalantly grab a bottle of water from the fridge, twisting off the cap as you push the door open. you leave a wet trail behind your steps as you pour the cold water over your feet, a poor attempt to soothe the sharp pain of the injury.

you know it will be alright eventually; you will heal, but this… this is leaving a permanent scar on your dignity.

with a vexed groan, you retrieve your vibrating phone from your pocket.

LAST EVICTION NOTICE— you do not even bother reading the rest of the words that come after that.

“fuck!” you scream, throwing the bottle at the nearest wall, hands coming up to your hair to roughly pull in frustration. the heels of your palm dig into your eyes and your knees give way to the ground. “this is a nightmare.”

it dawns on you that you’ve finally arrived at a surface on the rock bottom that you so awfully dread. you find yourself standing here— infront of the atm machine, staring blankly at the large number displayed on the screen. this money isn’t yours. this didn’t come from your blood, sweat, and tears. it’s an amount that you’re supposed to accept as a payment for the eulogies you had to deliver. you swore you would never do this, but desperate times come when you’re forced to swallow your pride and allow it to rot you from the inside.

you’re once again faced with the ugly difference between surviving and living.

you grab the cash, hastily pushing them inside the pocket of your jacket as if you’re being burnt by them. you feel so nauseous; if only emptying your stomach would untangle its knots.

you don’t need anything from anyone. this is the first and the last time, you swear to yourself in place of your defeated oath.

you don’t want jungkook to see you like this, helpless and hollow, the antonym of the sun he willingly flew too close to. you look pathetic seeking for solace in an abandoned playground, unfortunate soul stuck at fifteen, in denial of the passage of time.

but there goes your lover running towards you, calling out your name, and you begin praying for yourself to disappear into thin air.

much to your disappointment, no wiser being grants your plea, and now you have a man tucking you in his safe embrace, uncaring of his knees being bruised by the ground.

does he need to surprise you when you least anticipate his presence?

“i’ve been looking everywhere for you! i went to pick you up at the restaurant but they told me that you quit! what happened?”

he pulls away, tenderly cupping your cheeks in his warm hands.

“was it your boss again? it’s him, isn’t it? what did he do?”

jungkook dies a little inside. your glassy eyes study his face, a clear picture of distress and concern, but at the same time, they seem so far away… like you’re not certain if you’re truly here.

you unconsciously squirm— your feet retract themselves, escaping underneath the swing; and your ankles twist, and twist, one hiding behind the other.

this doesn’t feel like being stripped naked.

you feel like you’re being turned inside out.

“what’s wrong? baby…” he utters sadly as tears drip from your lashes—one by one— even they are lost and hesitant.

your distant stare remains.

he doesn’t know if you’re even aware that you’re crying. it’s a frightening sight and he doesn’t know what else to do. he holds you in his arms but you feel too stiff for this to be comfortable. the time passes, and he lets it do so in silence.

he waits for you to come back to him.

he waits, and waits, and waits.

“jungkook… i want to go home.”

“okay. i’ll bring you home, baby.” he strokes your hair, breathing out in relief. “yours? or mine?”

only for his world to crumble into pieces.

“my mom…” you whisper, breathless, releasing yourself from his embrace. “i want to be with my mom.”

and only then does he see traces of emotions written on your face.

“i miss my mom so much.”

the crack of your voice gives him an opening to catch a glimpse of your heart, that is but a mosaic of broken parts. pain, grief, longing… the past two years haven’t been enough to make him well-acquainted with the anatomy of your afflictions. he has only witnessed you speak of your family with a proud and affectionate beam; old stories that spark the agent of joy. and despite knowing that you must’ve been battling your pain all these years all alone, he couldn’t bring himself to meddle with how you handled your grief. however, if he’s going to be completely truthful, he was terrified of this— of seeing you so unmoored and broken. his pain is no comparison. quite frankly, it is an insult to yours.

“i miss her so, so, so much. what do i do? i…” you sobs become uncontrollable, overcome by the weight of the world crashing down on you.

how is it possible that you feel nothing and too much at the same time? is what you would often ask before, but today you realize that your pain simply goes beyond what any of your human parts is able to fathom.

“this is too hard… it’s too tiring. i can’t- i can’t. i don’t want to be here anymore. i’m always so scared. i don’t know what i’m doing anym-”

“shh, shhh, baby- baby, breathe for me-”

“how did my life end up like this? i don’t understand! the world- it’s so cruel- i can’t stand it.”

jungkook wipes away your tears, but it’s no use. once you break down, it becomes impossible to remedy. nonetheless, that doesn’t deter your boyfriend from trying. he gathers your weeping and trembling vessel in an attempt to glue you back together, and in while doing so, he also wills himself to be strong for you.

“why did she have to go after them and leave me all alone here? am i not her child too?”

the obtuse questions you’ve been too afraid to ask out loud are being brought out in the open, spilling out from the torn seams of your soul as they’ve become too agonizing to annihilate over and over and over again.

you know the answer. you know she didn’t want to leave.

but you can’t help but to be angry at the fact that her heart gave up. you don’t understand why it had to happen and why you’re being grinded in the mouth of the world.

“i’m tired, i’m so tired. it’s so unfair… i need her with me too…”

jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, gently rocking your tangled bodies — a defense mechanism. you’re succumbing to defeat as if it’s been long overdue; even your voice is giving up on you.

if he had to imagine, the earth must have shared his current dread when it witnessed a solar eclipse for the first time, wired to assume the worst of perpetual darkness.

“jungkook…”

your weak fists desperately grasping at the fabric of his hoodie— the final thread you are hanging on. your words break into stutters and hiccups, salty tears slipping past your lips and stirring their bitter taste.

“i just want to go and be my mom’s child again.”

and he would truly fucking hate to try and get into the implication of your words, but if jungkook is going to be completely truthful— he is terrified beyond words can say. of this; of witnessing you slip away from everything you’ve ever known; of losing you. maybe he’s being selfish, but whatever it takes, he will make you stay.

he swallows the lump in his throat, hurriedly drying his eyes with his sleeve before facing you.

“listen to me, okay…?” his voice isn’t enough to pull your head from underwater; he lightly taps your cheek, even though it breaks his heart. “hey, hey, hey. look at me, baby- look at me.”

he searches for your eyes, begging them to focus on him. and it’s silly, what he does next, pressing a kiss to your lips as if this is a fairytale. but then it works— you tilt your head to subtly nuzzle your cheek against his palm— and he has to quickly recover from being taken aback. you effortlessly make a slave out of his heart.

“you never stopped being her child. and that will never happen! because even with them being gone, you haven’t stopped trying your best to be a good child and older sibling to them. i… i’m a witness to that. every single day. are you hearing me?”

can he get some sort of sign whether he is doing this right or wrong?

“you’re not alone here because you have me. you do know that, right?”

and you want to believe him… you do. but just like how you’re clinging onto him right now for dear life, you can’t forget how you had to beg him to stay.

“so stop working all these jobs! please, i’m begging you! it must also break your mom’s heart to see you torturing yourself like this. it’s not healthy! just focus on studying and let me take away your burdens, please?”

you stop breathing; your features soften like you’ve made it out of a nightmare.

“jungkook…”

“let’s live together, baby.” he sounds sure; he sounds steady, but the waver of his eyes beseeches you. “you’ve been so good to me, even when i didn’t deserve it. please… let me love you in my own way too.”

“stop. i told you… i’m still thinking about it.” you say meekly, avoiding his intense gaze. “i mean, let’s be honest. what would your family even think of me? your aunt already hates me. what if she uses this to prove that she was right about me and-”

“fuck what everyone else thinks. i couldn’t care less.”

the reminder of the disrespect you were subjected to because of him has him seething all over again. his jaw clenches in anger, and he feels obligated to take a deep breath so he can keep himself composed. growing up, he was always taught to be the bigger person, but he simply can’t implore himself to do that if it means turning a blind eye to your hurt.

“i won’t let her get away with that type of bullshit so don’t even bother thinking about her anymore. i’ll take care of it. we can’t let that get into our heads. right, baby? we said that?” his thumb caresses your cheek softly, and you hold on to his wrist, silent as you try to understand him through the thick haze clouding your mind. “i want to be with the person i love. how could that be so wrong?”

you slowly shake your head in response, a little hesitant.

“i won’t leave again. no matter how hard you push me away, i will stay within your reach.”

and here he is, kneeling infront of you, seeking to make true of what he solemnly vowed to you.

are you going to take this away from him? after everything you’ve gone through together?

he is the only thing you have left to lose.

“i love you.” you whisper, initiating the hug this time.

you’re holding him tight, like you don’t ever want to let go, and it brings jungkook to the brink of tears once more.

“i love you so much.”

he sweetly kisses your cheek, but when you pull away to give him that look, a wordless command for more, his lips finally meet yours for the first time in forty-eight hours. they slowly curve into a smile, not at all surprised that he’s tasting sugar. he’d go through hell and back to experience this kind of kiss one time, only to do it all over again.

“let’s go home?”

you blink at him cluelessly. you don’t know why he’s wearing a dimpled smile out of the blue, neither do you know which home he is referring to. nevertheless, you intertwine your fingers with his, choosing to save yourself from this forlorn neverland.

there’s just… one teeny… tiny problem…

“shit,” you mutter to yourself, freezing on your tracks.

“what’s wrong?”

you awkwardly glance down at your shoes, the origin of the squeaky sound that was impossible to be missed by your ears. after inspecting you from head to toe, a worried expression morphs on his face, and you can only show him a shy wince in response.

“i don’t want to make your car dirty.”

“baby…”

his chest feels so much heavier. he is nearly blinded with red. he wants to scream and be infuriated. what the fuck happened back there?

you merely shrug, sending him a forced smile. “do you still have those extra slippers?”

—

“jungkook, i can do it myself.”

he clicks his tongue, his hand around your calf gripping. “stay still!”

you watch him from the passenger seat, your legs dangling from the edge as he carefully takes off your shoes and socks, yet again kneeling on the ground.

“does it hurt a lot?”

“not… a lot.” you answer through gritted teeth.

perhaps the stinging never did quell; it was just pushed to the back of your mind when more painful things surfaced succeeding it.

“who did this to you, huh? i need to go back there and make them pay! what kind of decent human being would do that?!”

“a miserable woman in a miserable marriage.”

in her eyes, you may be naive and she, the decades old wiser— but who is the one with a lover who would wash not their dirty hands, but their feet that have walked a million miles?

“i feel bad for her.” you comment absentmindedly.

you’re too far deep in awe watching jungkook gingerly clean your bare feet with his hands and a bottle of cool water, doing what you were meant to do earlier, if only granted that you weren’t erupting with rage.

“____, you’re too nice.”

“you’re too nice.” you argue. “also, those shoes are hopeless. just throw them away.”

he glances at you with fondness, shaking his head as he softly pats you dry with a clean towel. you stifle a gasp. it’s no longer as bad as before, but your skin still feels warm and raw. this wasn’t in the job description. you decide that you can practice empathy, as well as your strong belief in karma, at the same time. at this moment, you hope that the universe is already crafting tricks up its sleeve, because you’re in a world of fucking pain.

“there you go. wait until we get off the car before you wear the slippers, alright? and you’re not allowed to wear tight shoes.”

he rises to his feet, not wasting the opportunity to steal a kiss.

“yeah, it was wildly uncomfortable.” you mumble against his lips, tugging at his collar to properly respond to his display of affection. “thank you.”

“wear your seatbelt.” his eyes shines with a glint of with uncontainable excitement. “we’re going home.”

—

you stir as jungkook gently shakes your body awake, his muffled voice gradually becoming clearer as you gain your consciousness.

“wake up, baby. we’re here.”

you tiredly rub off the sleep from your swollen eyes, discovering your boyfriend waiting for you where the door of the passenger seat should be.

“let’s get you some more rest.” he places a chaste kiss on your forehead, before standing aside to make way for you, offering his hand as a gentleman.

you must still be dreaming. you assumed he would bring you to his apartment, but you do not recognize this place. this is a different parking space, a different parking lot.

“um… t-this is…” you stumble on your words, feeling lost. “where are we?”

“home,” he smiles, the kind that reaches his eyes and turn them into little crescent moons.

you must still be dreaming. the clock attached to a nearby pillar strikes midnight, and unbeknownst to you, a brand new day awaits beyond the dark and empty sky.

you were so thoroughly convinced that you’ve been living a life past the point of salvation… but life stands before you overflowing with hope and glowing with ardor.

you take his hand and allow him to whisk you away to another world.

—

this is beginning to feel real, jungkook thinks as he presses the elevator button. earlier’s excitement becomes interweaved with nervousness. he’s a little dizzy as the giant box ascends. if you feel his hand’s growing clamminess, you don’t show it, your clasp still as firm as before.

“you bought another house…”

“hmm, but this one is a secret.” a confession that is yours truly. “this one is ours.”

your eyes wordlessly speak with each other. neither of you imagined following your hearts could materialize your future plans to the present time. what goes beyond dreaming of beautiful things is still foreign to the both of you, but jungkook is here, willing to free fall with you.

the elevator dings.

he guides you through a well-lit hallway, to a door, and you pay close attention as he punches in the passcode— another set of numbers you ought to have memorized alongside birthdays and anniversaries and id numbers.

your heart races but everything else moves in slow motion. the door opens and you get swallowed by the need to remember every moment so vividly as if you’re reliving it.

the first time you set foot into your own apartment,, the empty space daunted you despite its modest dimensions. however, right now, your head is tracing half of a circle, from left to right, just to study this large space in its entirety— and all you can think about are the endless possibilities forming intimate images of a sanctuary in your head— a place where fears and sadness can co-exist with tenderness and joy.

beside you, jungkook patiently holds your hand.

“this one is ours…” you repeat the words, more so to convince yourself, and they drip with disbelief.

you follow his lead as he walks to the other half of the room, bare feet sliding across the floor.

“this is the living room, and the other side is the kitchen.”

he faces you with a wide grin, the kind he wears when he wants to tell you something he is proud of.

“i was thinking that if we get a big television bolted on the wall…”

he gestures to the blank canvas, letting go of your hand to draw an invisible rectangle on the air with his arms fully outstretched.

“then we can easily watch even from the kitchen.”

he puffs up his chest, side-eyeing you expectantly.

“genius, right?”

“and greedy.” you blink. “i don’t think that’s safe to do while you’re cooking.”

“but i’ll be very, very careful!”

“that’s the bare minimum when you’re holding a knife.”

“okay! i look forward to arguing with you about that on a different day!”

his enthusiasm doesn’t waver. in fact, it is fueled. how could it not? when you’re starting to sound exactly like a couple who lives together?

he captures your wrist and tugs you towards the other side of the room, but you pull him back with a noise of protest.

“are we not going to address…” you hang on to your words, eyes wandering to the floor where there are signs of living. “whatever is going on here?”

a single mattress with a single pillow; a folded blanket neatly sitting on top of it. surrounding them are bottles of water, a laptop, a speaker, and a basket of what you assume are skincare products.

“i’ve been sleeping here lately…”

“i can see that.”

“i didn’t want to buy furnitures yet while you haven’t given me an answer… i just thought that if we’re living together, then we should decide on those things as a couple.”

…he dips down to kiss you. “it was hell without you…”

his teeth captures your bottom lip, nipping at the supple flesh.

“going to build a life with you. i’ll build furniture, and they’re going to be ours.”

jungkook feels your stare. oblivious of your thoughts reigning chaos, he tilts his head in question.

how long has he been planning this?

“you okay?”

you blink away the tears brimming your eyes. you shake your head, clinging to his arm. “where were you taking me?”

“this is the kitchen!”

a smile of contentment graces your lips. you’re guilty of admiring the pure, unadulterated joy on jungkook’s face instead of what he is passionately endorsing to you.

“this is the fridge!” he presents to you, swinging the door open. “but there’s nothing inside.”

“what are you saying? there is something.”

the two of you peer at the green can of soda, chilsung cider, left at a far corner. the refrigerator light casts over your curious faces.

“oh, that’s still there?”

the animated sound of your giggles prompts him to look at you, and he couldn’t be more glad to be laughing with you again, bellies aching at the same time.

“do you want it?”

“it’s not peach.”

“let’s move on then!”

there are cups of ramyeon and packs of dried seaweed on the countertop, the photo of his dinner that he sent last night still vivid in your memory. your hand daintily brushes across the white marble, stealing a feel as jungkook drags you to a new space.

“this is the second kitchen and laundry room!”

he waits for a reaction as you survey the room and its overhead cabinets.

“it’s not supposed to be the pantry…? eh, you know what? cooking and doing laundry are more of your thing so you can have them however you want.”

you turn on your heel to walk away, and jungkook follows behind you, celebrating his victory by punching the air and whisper-shouting a yeah!

“what’s here?”

you reach another hallway beside the living room.

“what’s here?” he zooms past you to open a door. “bathroom. there’s a bathtub! but i still need to install grip bars so no one will slip.”

he needs to stop saying things that make you want to make him your husband on the spot.

“and we have my favorite part! the master bedroom, of course!” he swings the door open on the other side. “where else would we spend the most time in?”

“wow, really? i thought you were also endorsing the living room as the bedroom.” you jokingly quirk an eyebrow.

“nonsense!” he cheekily chides you. “you deserve better than that.”

you take a step, peeking inside the empty room that you estimate to be as twice as larger than yours. you can’t say that you care so much about its size, because behind the white curtains, you reel at the prospect of the natural light shining over your face every time you wake up. your mornings have been gloomy since you arrived at seoul four years ago.

he sneaks his arms around your waist, your back resting against his chest, and your being feels so light you might just begin floating when he lets go.

“let’s stay like this for a while.”

“okay,” he puts his chin on top of your shoulder, his soft smile becoming permanent.

the two of you stand at the bedroom’s doorway; the cusp of what could be your entire lives.

“what’s that other room?”

“which one?”

“i don’t know. i see it from the side of my eye.”

he cackles at your humorous nonchalance. “i have more to show you. there’s a guest room… if we decide it to be.”

“cute. i have somewhere else to sleep when i’m mad at you.”

“that’s fine,” he replies after a beat of silence. “at least i’d know where to find you.”

“don’t make me change my mind.”

he cries out your name childishly, burying his face by the crook of your neck. he hugs you tighter. he wants to sleep every night drowning in the sweet scent of your hair. if he had to choose, it would be the most peaceful way to go.

“we have a walk-in closet too!”

“i expected nothing less.” you giggle, not a stranger to his lifestyle. “what’s exciting is that we can finally have a big bed.”

“but i like our small beds.”

“cuddling isn’t all that fun during the summer. trust me, you’d eventually want space.”

“nuh-uh! that’s what aircons are for!”

you roll your eyes at his persistence. “then why did you choose such a huge apartment if you wanted a small bed?”

“so we can have all the space to slow-dance to love songs.”

jungkook, ever the charmer. the butterflies in your stomach come alive beneath his embrace.

“why are you suddenly quiet?” he laughs. “was that too cheesy?”

“no!”

“really?” he spins you around, and heat creeps to your cheeks when he leans in so close that you can perfectly distinguish the brown in his eyes. “so have you given it more thought?”

“given what more thought?”

“there’s nothing to be scared of. it’s only the two of us here, see?” he tells you like overeager puppy. “will you move in with me?”

if this is a dream, you wish to never wake up from it. to have a person care for you this deeply and unconditionally, you want to believe that you have done something right to deserve it.

“i just don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

his eyebrows knit together in defense. “what does that mean?”

“the thing is… yeah, sex 24/7 and cuddling and having first times together, that sounds amazing and all… but living with me would probably drive you crazy.”

a tired yawn almost interrupts the end of your sentence, and you cover your face out of courtesy. you sniffle and wipe your teary eyes with the back of your hand.

“i’ve lived on my own for so long. i’m messy and clumsy and i’m used to having everything my way… i mean… i’m willing to compromise, but i can’t promise i won’t be insufferable as hell about it.”

“ah, seriously! you scared me for nothing!” he exclaims, throwing his head back with a groan. “baby, i’ve been living with six other men for the past decade. you know that there was a time when we even slept together in one small room. can you imagine how that must’ve been like for a bunch of teenage boys…? you? messy? think about it again. living with you can’t possibly get worse than that. you don’t have to worry about me! really, i can take it! watch me!”

“but i bleed every month.”

“i’m a man. seeing a little blood doesn’t faze me.”

you make a face. “it’s actually a lot.”

“yah, why are you acting like we haven’t been together for two years?”

“it’s different living together!”

“it’s only natural! i don’t care!”

a noise of complaint bubbles in your throat when he shakes you by your shoulders, coaxing you with an whiny “please baby.”

your chest deflates in defeat. “sure, i guess… as long as we have the big bed, and the slow-dancing-”

“done!” he doesn’t waste his breath, not keen on wasting this opportunity. “anything you want, you have it!”

you narrow your eyes. “and i’ll keep my tutoring job.”

“will you punch the next guy that insists you study at his dorm for me?”

“or i can just keep saying no firmly, baby boy.”

and with that pet name, he instantly folds. “okay.”

“okay?”

“okay, since that’s the only one that you genuinely like.”

“you-” your teeth unconsciously finds your bottom lip to dig into, and you inhale sharply. “…you really love me, don’t you?”

suddenly, you’re raising your voice and waving your hands in the air. you’re feeling too many emotions at once; it’s like when you mix all the colors in a palette and end up creating black. you’re angry and happy and you may be fucking crying again.

“you were just picking up speakers one night and a pretty stranger offers you some boring food and now you want to be stuck with me forever?”

your fist throws a restrained punch to his chest, shoving him backwards.

“oh my god, you’re so stupid!”

jungkook finds this too amusing, tries to hide that he is enjoying this but a smirk is plastered on his face.

“you are loved by so many,” he brushes away the hair that has fallen over your eyes. he tucks them behind you ears and tenderly holds your face in his warm hands. “but i’m confident that i love you the most.”

you are the muse in his dreams. your perfume clings to his clothes. you make him the happiest man on the planet and your pain torments him. what is this, if not love?

“and if that makes me the stupid one? then so be it.”

“when did it become a competition?”

“since you got yourself a competitive boyfriend!”

“okay, fine! let’s make it my fault!”

you throw your arms around his neck, peppering kisses all over his face until he’s an uncontainable giggling mess.

“i’m drowning in kisses! nobody help!”

and you hope you’re hugging him close enough that he can feel the love and gratitude flowing through your veins. your eyes flutter shut, and you sigh— tranquility triumphs over chaos.

“are you falling asleep standing up again?”

“no!” you blatantly lie, drawing back with innocence masking your drowsiness. “we still need to go online shopping!”

“what are we buying?”

your face lights up. “appliances first?”

“appliances?” he cheerfully says. “sure! let’s get you new shoes too!”

as he gets dragged to the living room where his laptop is, he mumbles something with an enamored expression. “i should keep working hard.”

—

“yah, why are looking at me like that?” jungkook chuckles upon feeling your poorly concealed stare, diverting his attention away from the laptop over his stomach. “i’m the real deal. the tv is over there, on the screen.”

“just because…”

you snuggle closer to his side, heart fluttering when his arm that is your pillow moves to also hold you. you don’t really mind a small bed. this is the most favorable consequence a nuisance could have.

“i feel sorry.”

“sorry? for what?”

“because i made you sad, didn’t i? i hate that so much.” you sniffle, hand coming up to pat his cheek affectionately. “i know it must be hard for you too.”

“you’re the one who’s in a lot of pain.” he means to firmly speak, but the tremble of his voice rudely refuses to cooperate. “how could you even think of me feeling sad?”

“because i love you. of course i always think of you.” you argue, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “i can’t do that now?”

he sighs. “you know that’s not what i meant.”

a kiss is planted on your forehead— tender and cherishing.

“let’s be happy, baby.”

the sharp edges of jungkook’s fears are eroded in a way. in a universe that relentlessly challenges you to be optimistic, your heart that is well-versed in loving continues to rise above it all.

you echo his words wistfully. “let’s be happy.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[taevbears]

To Be Loved - 05

Tale as old as time

⤑ pairing: namjoon x reader ⤑ genre: hybrid au, romance, hurt/comfort ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 7.7k ⤑ warnings: our favorite asshole, kangdae, is in this chapter SO: violence, threats against reader and the tannies, verbal/emotional abuse, detailed descriptions of fighting and gore, some angst, minor character deaths ⤑ note: and with this, to be love is concluded! thank you everyone for reading and for all the love this story has received. i hope this last chapter meets your expectations. and lol, did you guys guess correctly on what kind of hybrid namjoon is?

Chapters 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 (End)

It was a clear and starry night.

The giddiness between you and the hybrids as the evening’s plans come together. A look of awe on your face when you see yourself in the mirror, dressed in a yellow ball gown, and think to yourself how you’ve never been more beautiful. Sparkling lights from the crystal chandeliers glow and romantic music softly plays in the background as Namjoon dances with you, and the way he looks at you tonight with such endeared warmth, you could only describe it as love.

Everything was perfect. A calm before the storm.

Ruined in the matter of seconds.

The shot that was fired was aimed at the ground, near Seokjin’s paws. A warning to you and the hybrids that they’re armed and not afraid to use their weapons. The wolf hybrid shifts into his human form, but his ears are pinned back against his head and his tail is between his legs as he backs away, startled but luckily unharmed. You stand between them and the group of vile men before you, including the man you’re supposed to marry.

“So, this is where you’ve been hiding.” Kangdae takes one look at you and bursts into mocking laughter. “What the hell are you wearing, babe? That’s not sexy at all!”

You feel your cheeks burn with humiliation. “What do you want, Kangdae? How did you even find me?”

“You were a pain in the ass to track down,” he mutters, shaking his head. “The whole town was worried about you, babe. My folks got everyone searching. Someone found your car in these woods, thought you were good as dead. And yet, here you are, gallivanting with these … abominations.”

“Shut up! Don’t talk to us like that!” Seokjin snaps. Two of Kangdae’s lackeys point their guns at him, ready to fire.

“Easy, pup. I’m having a conversation with my stupid woman.” He doesn’t divert his gaze away as he stares you down. A growl rumbles from Seokjin’s throat, but you step in front of him, shielding him and the other hybrids.

“Tell them to put the guns down,” you order tersely, trying not to look as frightened as you feel when you see the ends of the barrels being pointed at the hybrids. “I don’t want anything to do with you anymore, Kangdae. Just leave us alone.”

“Babe, I’m just here to talk. That’s all.” He raises his hands up and cracks a smile as if he has no intentions of hurting you. It feels condescending. “Just hear me out, and we’ll pretend we never saw them.”

“Whatever you have to say to her, you can say in front of us,” Namjoon speaks up as he stands by your side. The hand he presses against the small of your back gives you the tiniest bit of comfort, even if you feel it trembling with rage.

“I don’t think so, beast,” he quips, finally turning his gaze away from you to look at Namjoon. If he recognizes him, it doesn’t show on Kangdae’s face. He does, however, look intrigued with how close Namjoon stands to you. How protective he is over you. When Kangdae looks at you again, his smile is gone. “You and I talk. Alone. And no one gets hurt.”

Guns cock and more are aimed at the hybrids. Kangdae begins to count down.

“Okay! Okay!” you give in before the next number leaves his lips. You give Namjoon an apologetic look. It feels like this is all your fault. If you hadn’t stayed this long, if you had left when you were supposed to, maybe they’d never find this place.

The smug smirk dances on Kangdae’s lips again as he meets Namjoon’s gaze. It’s like that dark and stormy night all those years ago, when the two of them stood against each other on the stage. The arrogance that Kangdae had that day hasn’t diminished at all. In fact, it’s gotten even worse as he grabs your arm and yanks you closer to him, childishly possessive like you’re a pretty doll that Namjoon can’t have.

The hybrid’s rage is silent, but he clenches his jaw and scowls as he watches Kangdae pull you away, out of ear-shot for even the hybrids to eavesdrop. You look over your shoulder at him, helpless, scared. Not because of him, but of the human that has you in his grasp. The indigo in Namjoon’s eyes darkens and looks sharper, the black pupils thinner like slits. The air around his mouth as he exhales becomes visible like smoke.

You’ve never seen Namjoon look so angry.

When you and Kangdae are far enough, he eyes you again and gives you a sleazy smirk. “You know, for an old dress, it makes your tits look nice.”

“What do you want, Kangdae?” you repeat, exasperated, stepping away from him before he could think of touching you.

“To take you home, of course. My folks planned a nice ceremony for us, you know?” He moves closer to you, until your back hits the trunk of a tree. Then, he cages you in with his arms. Objectively, Kangdae is good-looking, especially up close like this, but his beauty is only skin-deep. All you see before you is a monster. “Then, you pulled your little stunt. So, what the fuck happened? Did you want to rebel? Did you think you’d get away? You’re usually so quiet and obedient.”

“Stop.” You pull Kangdae’s arms as he squeezes your cheeks together. 

“Stop,” he repeats in a whine, mocking you again. “It was never supposed to be serious between us. You were the prettiest girl in school. We looked so good together, but all you do is read and stay home. You can’t even talk to people without getting nervous. So, I thought maybe you’re just the girl I can bring home to my parents. Someone that makes me look good during social events and family parties. So that people can get off my fucking back about the actual fun girls I date. But it turns out, my folks really like you. Especially after you started working at our company. Not only are you beautiful. They said you’re smart and hardworking, too. They thought you’d be a good match for me, and even threatened to cut me off if I didn’t propose to you. They’ll write me off my inheritance if I don’t marry you. But you’re just a prudish, annoying bitch that got cold feet and ran away.”

The truth spills out. Every word confirms what you’ve already known about you and Kangdae. Hearing him tell you all of this to your face, however, makes you spite him even more. “I hate you. You never loved me.”

“No one would,” he sneers, pinning you harder against the tree and watching your feeble attempts to push him off. “Don’t you know what people say about you? How you’re a weird, little freak? The whole town is only nice to you because you’re dating me. Or have you forgotten? Is that why you’re hanging out with hybrids of all fucking things?”

“They’re not things, they’re—”

“Monsters,” he finishes for you. “I know, babe.”

“They’re not that either.”

Kangdae loudly laughs as if that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “Let’s not speak nonsense, okay? Where is he?”

“Who?”

“The hybrid. The bunny,” he clarifies, and your eyes widen slightly when you realize he’s talking about Jungkook. “Tell me where you’re hiding him, and I’ll forgive you.”

Dread weighs heavily on your heart as you glance at the others he came with. You don’t recognize any of them, but they look more menacing than a pack of wolves. They’re not just here for you, but they’re after Jungkook as well. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t fuck with me, babe. I know you ran away with him.” His grip around you tightens. “Is he with those other hybrids? That guy from the fighting ring has been threatening me since you took off together. That bunny was his prized fighter. Didn’t you think he’d want him back?”

“Fuck you.” You’d never give him up. Jungkook is your friend.

He looks over his shoulder where his men continue to point their guns at the manor’s residents. The hybrids are looking at you. Even from this distance, you can feel their worried gazes. “That’s okay, though. I see a leopard, a bear, and a wolf among the other hybrids you’re hiding. I could make a lot of money selling them off.”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Kangdae.”

“Here’s the deal, princess,” Kangdae begins, his voice low and angry as he digs into his pocket for something. “People have been hounding me for six months straight. Either you be a good girl and marry me, and I’ll leave your hybrids alone. Once I get my inheritance, I’ll take you straight to the guy from the ring. You’ll explain why his prized fighter is still missing, and you better pray that it’s only money that he wants from you.”

Your stomach feels sick at the implication.

“Or, if you’re still going to be stubborn, I’ll send my men to raid the manor and capture every single hybrid you’re hiding in there. I’ll make you watch as my men and I use them for target practice.” There’s a wicked smile on his face as he unveils something you’d never thought you’d see again. The engagement ring you left behind. “The choice is yours, babe.”

A tense silence fills the air as Kangdae pulls you aside to talk. Namjoon doesn’t keep his eyes off you. His jaw is locked and his gaze is steady as you look back at him.

He’s never smelled fear on you before. Not like this. Not with him or his pack. At least, not since you first stepped into the manor. Even then, it was never to this degree.

You’re terrified of Kangdae.

And all Namjoon can do is stay where he is – between his pack and the guns pointed at them – and helplessly watch you become more distressed.

The conversation feels longer than it is. A soft, worried whine from Seokjin, a small hiss from Yoongi. Even Taehyung stops himself from anxiously pacing as he guards the door, keeping the other hybrids inside the manor out of sight.

As for Namjoon, he feels his self-control slipping.

Anger rises when Kangdae puts his hands on you. How he pins you against the tree. How he roughly grabs your face. You struggle against his hold, but Kangdae is bigger and stronger than you are. His body now blocks you from his view, but when Kangdae turns to look at where his men are holding them hostage, he meets Namjoon’s eyes. 

And he smirks.

“Careful, Namjoon,” Yoongi whispers, grounding him.

For a split second, the beast inside him almost takes form. It shows on his cracking skin and his glowing eyes, like a broken mask unveiling his true self. He covers his face with his hand, but his eyes are still glued on you.

If you’re to see him now – if you’re to see what he really looks like – you’ll hate him. 

When you and Kangdae return, he has his arm around you. There’s a look of haughty triumph on his face as he makes a show to kiss the top of your head. 

“Fifteen minutes,” he gives you before releasing you from his hold. It’s not much time at all, but you head straight to Namjoon.

“What’s going on?” he asks you, touching your arm. You still smell so distressed, it’s bitter and almost tannic from your usual warm, sweet scent.

“I’m going with them, Namjoon,” you tell him, your voice so quiet, it’s almost a whisper. Tears glisten in your eyes, and honestly, it makes Namjoon want to cry too.

“Wh-What are you saying? You can’t go with them,” Namjoon begins as waves of emotions hit him at once: anger, confusion, disbelief, hurt, sadness, yearning. “No. I won’t let them take you.”

“Please don’t make this harder for me. I made my choice.”

A glimmer catches his attention, and his eyes are drawn to the band around your finger. His heart breaks when he realizes it’s an engagement ring.

He… he feels like a fool. Of course, you couldn’t be his. Of course, you’d choose to be with someone else. Why would you ever love a beast like him?

“Thirteen minutes,” Kangdae loudly counts down from behind you, relishing the look on Namjoon's face.

And like that, you step away from him. Cold air escapes with your warmth, and he barely registers the thanks you give him for taking care of you all this time. Your voice feels like it’s underwater. His packmates are shocked and unhappy, their own feelings adding to the bitterness Namjoon could practically taste in the air.

He feels numb when you step in front of him again several minutes later, dressed in something more comfortable and with your duffle bag slung around your shoulder. It only occurs to him that he’s been crying when he glances up at you, his vision blurred by his tears.

There’s an apologetic look on your face. Words at the tip of your tongue that you can’t say to him. Truths that can’t be told. “Take care of Jungkook for me, okay?”

“You’re just letting her go?” Jimin berates, standing in the middle of Namjoon’s room in the west wing. It’s the only area in the mansion that hasn’t been fixed yet. A gaping hole on the side of the wall exposes the room to the dark clouds that cover the night sky whenever Namjoon is in a sour mood. “Why didn’t you try to stop her?”

“She’s already promised to someone else.” Namjoon’s voice is low and calm, almost matter-of-fact. But the scales on his face are cracking again. He’s able to control himself better at night, when the beast inside him is quiet and asleep, but after everything that’s happened, his emotions are all over the place.

For six months, Namjoon has been very careful to hide the monster he is. Afraid he’d scare you off if you know the truth. Afraid to show you any part of himself that doesn’t appear human. He’s been patient, yearning, glad to have you around but terrified for the inevitable day this would come.

The day you decide to leave.

Once Kangdae and his men got what they came for, they retreated. As if they never saw them, as promised.

It’s been hours since then. Namjoon, and the others return to the manor where Hoseok and Jimin anxiously question what had happened and where you’ve gone. 

“You know damn well as much as I do that she doesn’t love that man,” Jimin hisses, his black feathers ruffled with agitation. “You’re so happy with her, Namjoon. You’ve been lonely for so long, and you told me it was a miracle that you found each other again. Every night, you’ve been courting her. Every night, you two were getting closer. And now, you’re just letting her leave without a fight? What if she doesn’t come back?”

“It’s okay, Jimin. She made her decision.” Namjoon’s voice is still calm, still quiet, as if trying to be complacent. But his voice breaks as he admits, “I’ll miss her too.”

The swan hybrid falls silent. Fresh tears sting his eyes, terrified that you’ve abandoned them. After they’ve all gotten used to you being around. After they began to consider you and Jungkook a part of their pack.

Jimin knows it’s not Namjoon’s fault that you left. He knows it isn’t yours either. That if those men hadn’t found the manor, you’d still be with them. 

But as much as it pains him to question if you’ll ever come back to him, nothing could compare to how hurt Namjoon must be.

After all, you’re his mate. Namjoon wanted to finally tell you that tonight.

To love and to be loved in return.

If Namjoon could wish for anything, it would be that.

A single petal falls from a smeraldo flower Namjoon keeps in a vase. A beautiful flower that means an untold truth.

Jimin watches as it delicately lands on the table. It almost feels like watching sand in an hourglass. Every second that slips by seems emptier and emptier, and it makes him anxiously wonder if you’ll ever know how much Namjoon truly loves you.

Footsteps hurry toward the west wing, and Hoseok appears, out of breath. There’s urgency in his eyes as he looks at Namjoon and Jimin. “Those men! They’re back!”

“I thought they left,” Namjoon practically snarls. What more could they take from him?

Taehyung is with Hoseok. There’s a frown on his face as he says, “I don’t think they left at all. They just brought reinforcements.”

Namjoon’s eyes are ablaze. He’s barely in control of himself and it makes Jimin and the others eye each other nervously. He shoves past them, the scales on his skin becoming more apparent and glistening with the moonlight. “Find the others and stay inside!”

He storms out before he could hear their responses. The clear and starry sky now shrouded with dark clouds as a sudden storm picks up. Lightning flashes and Namjoon is gone, a menacing roar drowned by the rumble of thunder.

The three look at each other, unable to hide their worry. It’s been a long time since they’ve seen Namjoon like this, consumed by his anger and self-hatred. Where chaos and destruction mark his path, and the storms outside are strong enough to sweep everything away.

Seokjin and Yoongi join them, wearing similar expressions of concern. Jimin looks at his pack before him and realizes there’s one missing. “Where’s Jungkook?”

A bump in the road stirs you from sleep. In the back of the car like an arrested suspect, you must have dozed off. You’ve been crying the whole time. Tears stain your cheeks and the puffiness in your eyes and face are evident of that.

It’s just you and Kangdae in the white van. One, you’re certain, specifically designed for capturing hybrids.

The backdoors aren’t unlockable from the inside, and there are strong chains hooked against the sides and bottoms to keep the hybrid in place. A cage mesh separates you from the front seats of the car, keeping you contained like an animal.

The other men he was with must have taken separate vehicles, but you all seem to be going to the same place. Back to that small, provincial town.

Where everyone knows you as the odd, quiet, but beautiful girl who is incredibly lucky to be with someone as handsome and wealthy as Kangdae. Where you’re about to sign your life away to a loveless marriage with a terrible man. Where you could only hope that this is the right choice, and that nothing will harm the hybrids.

Emotional exhaustion still has its hold on your body. You hear Kangdae’s voice, but you could barely make out what he’s saying. He’s speaking so quietly, he must think you’re still asleep. Your eyes start to adjust to the darkness in the back of the van. There isn’t much to look at anyway. It’s empty except for your opened duffle bag and…

You nearly scream at the pair of big, doe-shaped eyes staring at you in the shadows. Before you could make a sound, he quickly covers your mouth with the palm of his hand and places a finger to his pouty lips, gesturing you to keep quiet.

“Jungkook? What the hell are you doing here?” you question, bewildered, when he finally lets you go. He must’ve snuck into your bag while you were in a rush to pack your things.

The bunny hybrid smiles so widely, his nose crinkles a little. “I couldn’t let you face the bad humans alone, can I?”

Conflicted between relief and upset upon seeing him, you’re touched that he’s here. Even if he’s supposed to be in the manor with everyone else. Before you could question it, he motions you to keep quiet again. One of his long ears is pressed against the divider as he crouches in Kangdae’s blindspot.

“It’s even better than that,” Kangdae continues, keeping his voice low as he talks to someone on the phone. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to notice that you aren’t alone in the back. His attention is focused on the road ahead. “There’s a house full of them.”

Your eyes widen when you realize Kangdae is talking about the hybrids.

You can’t make out the response on the other line, but you recognize the tone Kangdae is using. It’s the voice he uses whenever he makes a sales pitch. He describes the other hybrids one by one: how bigger Seokjin is compared to other wolf hybrids, the rarity of Yoongi’s leopard skin, the pros of Taehyung’s strength as a bear hybrid for intense work labor. Your stomach knots as he talks about how much profit he could make if he were to capture and sell them.

The more you listen, the sicker you feel. Whatever Kangdae is planning, it sounds like it will happen as soon as tonight, and you and Jungkook need to come up with something quickly if you want to warn the others in time.

“Kangdae,” you call out to him, back in the same position you woke up in as Jungkook shifts into a bunny and blends in the shadows. “I need to use the restroom.”

“Shit. I gotta go,” Kangdae mutters in annoyance before he hangs up the phone. “Hold it in, babe. We’ll be in the closest town soon.”

“I can’t,” you whine, wiggling around and squeezing your thighs together. “Kangdae, please. Can you pull over?”

He glares at you from the rearview mirror and curses, suddenly swerving. Tires screech in an abrupt halt that slams you forward against the cage. Luckily, you and Jungkook aren’t hurt as Kangdae rips the car door open and slams it shut. In his bunny form, you watch Jungkook dart toward the other end of the van. You catch your breath as the door opens and Kangdae grabs you. “You better make it fast or I’ll—”

Before he could finish, Jungkook shifts and jumps out at him. The sharp snap of his knuckles hitting Kangdae square in the face is the most satisfying sound you’ve ever heard. He instantly lets you go and yelps in pain, but Jungkook quickly pins him to the ground, throwing his legs around Kangdae’s torso, and uses his brute strength to keep him in a chokehold. “His keys!”

You snap out of it and yank the van’s keys from Kangdae’s jeans.

“Bitch!” he wheezes, choking a bit more as Jungkook’s hold on him tightens. His face looks like a mess. You’re pretty sure Jungkook broke his nose and blood drips freely onto the hybrid’s arm. 

You shut the back doors and jump to the driver’s seat. “Jungkook, come on!”

It’s only then that he lets Kangdae go. The bunny hybrid kicks him in the ribs for good measure, snapping that the kick was for calling you a bitch, and then quickly climbs onto the passenger seat beside you. 

Tires screech again as you turn the van around and floor it back to the road that you came from. You glance at the rearview mirror to see Kangdae still on the ground, but struggling to get back on his feet. You don’t see any of the other men around, but you’re sure it won’t be long until they’re on your trail.

You glance at Jungkook, who is rubbing his knuckles and taking deep breaths to let the adrenaline die down. His eyes are fixed on the road as he tells you, “I don’t think we lost too much time, but he told them where the manor is. We should hurry.”

“Yeah,” you agree, trying to remember the path you took all those months ago that led you to the manor. “You were amazing back there, you know?”

“I told you I’m strong,” Jungkook teases with a flex of his muscles. His smile falls as he admits, “I’m just glad that I was able to use it for something other than fighting other hybrids, you know?”

“You’ll never have to,” you promise as the van speeds along, reminiscent of how your adventure started. Back when you were so lost and scared, and not sure where to go. But now, you have direction. Now, you have a place to go to. “Let’s go home, Jungkook.”

What once was a clear and starry night becomes dark and stormy. Black clouds hang over the manor by the time you reach it, and rain pours as heavily as it did the night you first arrived. An old and forgotten manor, once peaceful and unassuming, now holds the aftermath of a perilous battle.

You and Jungkook step out of the van with caution. Blood is spilled on the ground. Grass is singed with ash and dying embers. Weapons have been dropped and shells of bullets discarded. Something tore through here, and you can only assume that the carcasses and severed limbs are the men that foolishly stayed behind.

Your stomach twists with worry and grief. Had Kangdae ordered his men to attack the hybrids as soon as you left? Are any of them hurt?

“We have to get inside,” you remind Jungkook. More men are coming, based on what you overheard Kangdae say. You need to warn them before it’s too late.

“Don’t give up!” a voice in the roughly distance exclaims. You and Jungkook immediately hide around the van, noticing a group of armed men by the front doors. “Break the doors open! I want those hybrids captured alive!”

Your heart sinks when you realize you might be too late.

Jungkook nudges you, grabbing your attention. He nods toward the side of the manor – that there still might be another entryway you can sneak into without alerting the men outside. Both of you jog toward the east side of the manor and see a window that you could climb into. Jungkook gives you a boost before he easily jumps in after you.

At the entryway, you see the hybrids have barricaded the doors. Taehyung in his bear form is leaning against the furniture, but you’re not sure how long he can keep holding them back. The others are on their guard, getting ready to attack. Everyone is there but one person.

“Where’s Namjoon?”

The hybrids snap their attention toward you when they hear your voice. Hoseok’s eyes widen in shock. “You came back?”

“I came home,” you correct as they return your smile. Taehyung grunts as he struggles to keep the barricade up. You grab the heaviest thing you could use as a weapon and signal for him and the others to hide.

The front doors slowly creak up with a loud, echoing groan. The intruders slowly enter, pushing aside the furniture piled up by the door. It feels haunted with how old and antique the style of the manor is, and although it seems empty, they can feel pairs of eyes watching them from the shadows.

Jimin drops something from above, startling the men, distracting them as the rest of you sneak in and attack. The fight is instant. In your hands is a heavy candelabra, and you swing it at the back of a man’s head. It disorients him, causing him to drop his gun, and you kick it out of reach. You then swing the candelabra into another man in front of you, nearly knocking him back into another person, and causing both of them to stumble on the ground.

The others around you are fairing just as well.

Taehyung’s ferocious roar is enough to scare some of them off. From above, Jimin snatches weapons out of their hands and tosses them where they can’t reach. Hoseok uses his antlers to ram into multiple people, and Yoongi’s agility makes it difficult for anyone to catch him. Seokjin’s bite is powerful as he chases them out of the manor, and Jungkook, who is trained in hand-to-hand combat, uses his skills to knock them down before they could hurt anyone from the pack.

The battle spills outside. Most of the intruders have given up and fled, vowing to never return when they realize the price of the hybrids aren’t worth their lives. They slip on the wet mud mixed with blood and scream in horror when they finally see the carnage and are reminded of what their fates could be. The hybrids around you are breathing hard from exertion, worn from battle but otherwise unhurt.

It’s almost over. Only a few stragglers are left, but the victory is yours. The manor is safe for another day, but you haven’t seen Namjoon yet.

“He’s in the west wing,” Yoongi tells you as you eye the forbidden area. He grabs the collar of a random man and starts to drag him away. “We got things covered here. You should go to him.”

Adrenaline still pumps in your veins, but you nod your head, enter the manor, and climb up the stairs to see him. At first glance, the westside of the manor seems identical to the eastside. However, the further you go, the darker and desolate it becomes.

Time always seems at a standstill within the manor. The furniture is old, the floorboards creak, the wallpaper is outdated, but it isn’t until you enter the west wing when you truly see the effects of time and abandonment. White sheets cover the furniture, cracks and holes on the walls, old paintings are weathered and an armor suit with a sword is rusted.

At the end of the long hallway is a large doorway that’s cracked open. Rain spills from the exposed area, further damaging the soaked floorboards. The cold wind makes you shiver as you slowly cross the threshold. It looks like you’re in the master bedroom. A large bed, antique furniture, a vase with a smeraldo flower, but more notably, by the tall windows, is Namjoon.

His clothes are torn, as if he’s been clutching them so tightly, they’ve ripped. You see that he’s breathing heavily, gasping for air, curling into himself as if he’s in pain. Your heart suddenly yearns for him – wanting to comfort him, wanting to kiss his burdens away – as you take a step forward and carefully call out his name. “Namjoon?”

When he looks at you, he’s almost unrecognizable. Half-shifted to whatever hybrid he is. The smoothness of his sun-kissed skin has turned into scales that glimmer slightly in the moonlight. His fingernails have grown to long claws, painting his entire hand black and shaping it like a talon. Horns grow out of his head, bending back. Blood covers his mouth and clothes, and you can’t tell if it’s his blood or not. The whites of his eyes are gone, but they still look at you with the same surprise, gentleness, and worry that the Namjoon you know would always have.

“What are you doing here?” he questions, his voice rough with a low growl. He tries to hide from you, curling up into a tight ball, clearly ashamed of his appearance. It looks like he’s trying to fully shift back into a human, but isn’t able to. “Don’t look at me. I won’t– I can’t hold it back!”

But you don’t care. You take another step forward. “Namjoon, I–”

Out of nowhere, someone grabs you by your hair and yanks you back. A yelp of pain escapes your lips as one of the intruders, who followed you through the west wing, hisses down your neck. “Bitch. Did you think you’d get away from me?”

“Kangdae!” you cry out, trying to pry his fingers off you, but he just pulls you harder, forcing you down on your knees.

Tears prick your eyes as he starts to drag you by your hair, and you scream for him to stop. To let you go. You don’t want anything to do with this man. You don’t want a future with him. You never wanted one to begin with.

He only manages to pull you out of the master bedroom when a deep rumble for the shadows comes from within. The ground shakes and bits of debris fall from the ceiling. Kangdae’s grip tightens around you, this time, out of fear.

In the shadows, a pair of angry, glowing indigo eyes glare at him. Lightning flashes, giving a glimpse of a monster in its depths.

Then, since the night you first arrived at the mansion, you hear it. The same sound that spooked Jungkook all those months ago. The sound of an ungodly roar.

Namjoon never wanted you to see him like this.

A pitifully lonely, ugly, beastly creature like him doesn’t deserve to even be looked at by someone as beautiful and precious as you. He’s seen the terror in the eyes of everyone who’s witnessed this form, even from his own pack mates. He can’t bear the thought of scaring you, but Namjoon is selfish. Because he can’t bear the thought of losing you either.

Perhaps it's fate that drew him to participate in that underground battle all those years ago. His hatred and anger for himself and for the world could be catalyzed in forms of words and poetry as a writer, as a rapper. He wanted to at least try.

Namjoon noticed you right away among the crowd. You were breathtaking then, and even more so now. Namjoon doesn’t know much about love. He doesn’t have much for himself, let alone for others. But something akin to it – something warm, something right – he felt it that night. He knew you were someone special to him before he even knew your name.

The second time, after thinking about you nonstop, it’s like you manifested for him. Again, he saw you in the crowd, looking up at him with intrigue. Then, to his horror, his disguise falls off and the only sign of him being a hybrid is unveiled to the room. He remembers the shock, the disgust, the fear. He can smell it on their skins, but among all that is your sweet one. 

You aren’t afraid when you approach him and hand back his sunglasses. There’s a gentle kindness in your voice when you speak to him. As you look him in the eyes, you don’t flinch from fear or nerves. You treat him like he’s human.

The interaction is too brief, but he’s never forgotten it.

Perhaps it’s fate that drew you to the manor half a year ago. He never thought he’d see you again. He’s mourned that idea more times than he’d like to admit: you were the girl who got away, a girl who he’d be too afraid to show his true self to anyway, a girl he could love but would never love him back in return. 

As the poor weather matches his uneasy heart, he still asks you every night to spend time with him, expecting that you’d refuse and turn him down. But you never did. Even if he shows you boring things like his plants or his books, you still look at them with fascination because those boring things mean a lot to him.

Like waves of the ocean meeting the shore, you ebb away his loneliness and sorrows. The raging storm inside him subsides, and he feels content with just your presence. It makes him happy, seeing you bond with his packmates. It makes him happy, hearing your laughter and listening to you talk about your day. It makes him happy when you decide to stay.

Namjoon is already upset that the intruders have taken you from him, invaded his home, and threatened his pack. The anger and self-hatred rolls back like a tsunami, crashing into him so viciously that he feels the beast taking over, consuming him. Namjoon is so scared of losing that control he’s maintained while you were here, but now, it’s like he can’t think. He can’t breathe.

Someone is hurting his mate.

It’s all he thinks about as the manor rumbles around him and he fully shifts before your eyes. In the piercing darkness, he glares at the man who has his hand on you. He watches as he falls down and scrambles back, eyes shaking but never looking away as Namjoon steps closer into the light, revealing his monstrous form.

Namjoon isn’t just one hybrid. He’s several of them at once: nose of a pig, iridescent blue scales of a reptile, tail and long whiskers of a carp, long body of a serpent, talons of a falcon, beard of a goat. An ancient creature that only exists in stories and legends.

Namjoon is a dragon.

Kangdae screams as the dragon roars at him. He scrambles backwards on the ground, unable to tear his eyes away from the monster in the shadows. Namjoon lunges after him but isn’t able to fit through the doorway. With a snarl, he exits from the exposed hole in the corner of the room.

You hear Namjoon on the rooftop, trying to find Kangdae. The two of you are startled when a window breaks in, glass shattering on the floor, followed by his frustrated grunts when he still can’t reach him.

You’re still in shock, but Kangdae is quick to recover. His nose is broken from earlier and dried blood stains his shirt and skin. But in the backpocket of his jeans is a gun.

 “Kangdae, stop. Don’t hurt him.”

“He’s a monster, babe,” he reminds you coldly. “One that will make me so rich and famous when I capture it. Imagine, a dragon hybrid under my command.”

“As if he’d listen to you!” Jungkook must’ve hit him harder than you thought. He’s insane to go after Namjoon like this.

“No,” he agrees, voice low like a growl as he eyes you. “But he’ll listen to you.”

With his gun drawn, he grabs you and drags you back into the master bedroom, near the exposed opening. Cold rain continues to pour down, drenching both of you. Vines and smeraldo flowers cover a lattice panel against the wall, and Kangdae barks at you to climb it. You’re trembling from both the fear and the cold as you glance down, hand shaking as you grasp the thin, wet wood. 

One slip, and it’s over.

Kangdae nearly shoves you off the ledge, demanding you to climb. Slowly, carefully, you get to the roof of the manor with Kangdae right behind you. Below, you hear the other hybrids call out to you. It’s hard to see from the storm, but Kangdae waves his gun around and fires it at random. You scream at the sound, clutching the wood so tightly as you shut your eyes. Thankfully, it doesn’t sound like he hit anyone, but you practically scramble the rest of the way when he snaps at you to move.

Thunder rumbles and lightning flashes as you finally reach the top. And it’s only then that you’re able to get a good glimpse of Namjoon’s hybrid form.

He looks nothing like any creature you’ve seen before. His scales are white-blue, shining the same way the smeraldo flowers do with the heavy rain. His body is incredibly long like a serpent, with long talons on his feet and claws. He looks intimidating, but as you look into his eyes, you can see that it’s so clearly Namjoon.

You could never forget how beautiful his eyes are.

“Nam—” you begin to call out, but Kangdae covers your mouth with one hand. The other holds a gun at the dragon.

“What’s the matter, beast? Are you in love with her?” he taunts, cackling sinisterly at the angry fire in the hybrid’s eyes. “Do you honestly think she’d want you, when she has someone like me?”

But Kangdae couldn’t be more wrong.

You struggle in his hold again, elbowing him off you, yanking his hand away from your mouth. “Don’t believe him, Namjoon! I’ll never love him!”

“Shut up, babe! Or I’ll make you regret it!”

“It’s you, Namjoon! You’re the one I love!”

You see the dragon’s eyes widen at your confession.

“I said shut the fuck up!” Kangdae shouts, trying to grab you again, but you manage to slip out of his hold, nearly falling forward as you scramble away from him. Namjoon stands over you protectively once you’re close enough, roaring so loudly it makes the whole manor tremble.

Kangdae nearly loses his balance too, almost slipping off the edge. He aims his gun at Namjoon and fires, but the bullets do little to harm him. Namjoon lunges to bite him, but Kangdae shoots again at his face. This time, it makes him flinch and recoil in pain.

You scream when you see Namjoon is hurt, just as the other hybrids catch up to you guys. Kangdae comes toward you again, his hand reaching to grab you once more. But you’ve had enough.

He threatens to make your life miserable, like he always does. Because he’s always been the man that never gets rejected. That always gets his way. 

And you’re so sick and tired of it.

Every single day with him has been a living hell.

“Fuck you!” you curse, shoving him as hard as you can. He stumbles toward the ledge. It’s raining so hard, you can barely see. The roof is slippery. Even you start to lose your balance until Jungkook comes up and holds you steady. As Kangdae starts to fall back, you barely notice that he’s pointing his gun right at you.

But Namjoon does. His roar shakes the entire manor, causing Kangdae to fall off the ledge before he could fire his gun.

It feels like everything is slowed-down. You’re thankful Jungkook turns your head away, cradling you to his chest so you don’t have to see. That he covers your ears as the heavy rain drowns out Kangdae’s final scream. You’re thankful the rain hides your tears as you try to process what just happened.

You feel shocked. You feel sad how it came to this. Relieved that it’s over. Scared, even.

But not as scared as Namjoon.

The dragon hybrid tries to hide away from you again, curling up in himself like a tight ball some meters away. If you hadn’t thought he was a monster before, surely you do now. That seems to be what he and the other hybrids are thinking because, after a while, you hear Taehyung quietly plead, “Please don’t be afraid of him.”

“He looks like one now, but he’s not a monster,” Hoseok adds as you finally look at where Namjoon is. 

“I know,” you reply softly. Of course they’re not. None of them are. Joy lights up on their faces as you move out of Jungkook’s hold, careful not to trip as you head toward the cowering beast. Up close, Namjoon looks ethereal. Carefully, you place your hand on his iridescent scales, rubbing it gently, petting him like you would Jungkook. You feel him tense beneath your fingertips before he turns his head to look at you – cautious, confused, maybe a bit hopeful. You smile at him, looking him in the eyes. “You’re so pretty, Namjoon.”

The rain begins to stop. Cold scales are replaced with warm skin as he shifts back to his human form. His large hand cups the side of your face as he looks into your eyes. You watch waves of emotion soar through him at once as he asks, “Did you mean what you said? Do you love me?”

“I do–” He barely lets you answer before he kisses you.

Deep in the woods, in an area that humans haven’t come across in many years, lies an old, abandoned manor. Harboring inside are neither men nor animals, but outcasts who have been shunned for their appearances. Grotesque mutations and behaviors deemed unfavorable to a society that treats them so cruelly.

Until, one day, you come along.

Beautiful as you are kind, but in some ways, you’re a bit of an outcast yourself. You never felt like you belonged in that small, provincial town. Burdened by expectations of keeping appearances to what others saw fit.

Perhaps that’s why you could never be afraid of them. You relate to the hybrids more than you had any other human.

“Ah,” Yoongi complains, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just replaced these floor tiles a month ago.”

“Sorry, hyung,” Namjoon apologizes sheepishly. “I’ll help you fix the mess.”

“Don’t bother,” he tells him, though he eyes Jimin and the others for an unspoken plea for help. One that Jimin pretends to not see as he helps you sweep up the debris. The leopard gives you a pointed glance and says, “Keep him distracted before he breaks anything else, okay?”

“Sure, Yoongi.” You look over at Namjoon, grinning to yourself at how flustered he looks at the request. And how easily you agreed to it.

Last night took a toll on everyone. You’re not sure what the hybrids did with Kangdae’s body, and honestly, you don’t want to ask. Whether they buried him in a shallow grave or left him to the wolves, it doesn’t matter to you anymore.

The westside looks more deteriorated than before Namjoon’s transformation, and all of you ended up staying in the east wing with what little sleep you could manage. The other hybrids piled together in Jungkook’s room while Namjoon stayed in yours.

And it’s between soft kisses and scenting that he tells you the one truth that was left untold. That you’re his mate.

To be loved and to be loved in return. It’s a new and unfamiliar feeling to you. It’s the same for Namjoon as well. That warm and precious feeling that novels you’ve read often retell, you’re willing to know it all with him.

Your hand slips into Namjoon’s, drawing his attention. There’s a fondness in his eyes when you don’t shy away from him, despite knowing what he is. His eyes linger at your hands for a moment, his gaze already telling you that he loves you before he even speaks the words. And you meet his beautiful eyes with a teasing glint in yours.

“Namjoon, would you like to spend the evening with me?”

Because the greatest thing you’ll ever learn is to love and to be loved in return.

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Previous | Masterlist 

[lycheedr3ams]

I'm feeling so many feelings about butcher!Konig! I used to work at a gas station and had many crappy customers, sometimes to a point where I mentally shut myself down to survive a shift then cry afterwards.

Can you do one for after a difficult shift and you're crying in your car and a there's a gentle tap on the window? Thank you thank you! Love your smut but your sweet butcher!Konig huts different~

i'm so sorry to hear that was your experience at your job! when i worked at the deli at the grocery store (from which all these butcher!könig things are inspired by), i wanted to quit every fucking shift because customers would treat me so horribly. i got yelled at over fried chicken, so i get it.

answered below the cut! and yes i am living for sweet butcher!könig as well!

also random but if anyone is a minor, you should just block me atp. i'm going to be posting some absolute pure porn in the coming weeks. word porn i mean not actual porn lol

today was probably the worst shift you had ever had. it was around the 4th of july, so most customers were up in arms about their food being absolutely perfect. it didn't matter that most of them didn't read the regulations about the limit of food they were allowed to order, or the period of notice your store needed. all they saw was that you were at fault.

you could barely keep it together as you were yelled at by the 5th customer that day. the customers who didn't yell at you were condescending and rude. about halfway through your shift, you just couldn't take it anymore, and you abandoned your coworkers as you cried alone in your car in the corner of the parking lot.

butcher!könig hadn't had a chance to talk to you today, since he was also busy preparing orders for the upcoming holiday. and since his workstation was behind closed doors whereas yours was right where the customers are, he wasn't aware of everything that you had been going through. but he didn't miss the way you fled through the grocery store through the little window in the meat department's door. butcher!könig dropped everything he was doing and followed you out, not even bothering to take off his white work coat.

you were already deep into crying when you suddenly jumped when you heard a little tap on your window. you wiped your wet eyes and blushed when you saw butcher!könig standing outside your car, looking very worried. you winded the window down and put on a fake smile.

"what is wrong?" butcher!könig asked with furrowed eyebrows.

you sniffled. "the customers have just been so mean today... i've been yelled at all day, and they're just so rude." you wiped your hot tears as more fell, not wanting butcher!könig to see you like this.

"why didn't you tell me?" he asked sternly, but you knew he was just concerned for you.

"everyone's been beaten up by the customers today. you were busy too," you said quietly.

butcher!könig shook his head. "nein nein, you always tell me when a customer is being mean to you. do you understand?"

you looked into his eyes with your wet, red ones before finally nodding. "okay. i will from now on."

butcher!könig shuffled on his feet a little, since his back was hurting from hunching over to talk to you in your car. "oh, sorry, do you want to come in?" you offered as you unlocked the car door. he nodded and walked around the front of your car and sat down in your passenger seat. he was much too big for the seat, his knees hitting the dashboard, but he didn't seem to care as he looked over at you so caringly.

"may i comfort you?" butcher!könig asked softly. you nodded as you wiped your eyes again. he slowly placed his large hand on your arm and rubbed his thumb on your skin. you blushed and closed your eyes, not wanting to admit to him or you how much you enjoyed his touch. he looked at you so tenderly you thought you could cry.

"you are much too sweet for customers - or anyone - to be mean to you," butcher!könig said quietly as he looked down at his hand on your arm. you just listened quietly and tried to steady your breathing.

you and him stayed like that for a little while before accepting the reality that you had to go back to work. you sheepishly got out of your car and followed butcher!könig behind him like he was your bodyguard. needless to say, no customers dared to approach you as you followed behind the titan of a leather-masked butcher with a slightly crazed look in his eye that he always hid from you.

[allycat004]

You’re a Peach !

Disclaimer: Just fluff, something cute with slight dirty humor lol. 

Pairings: JJ Maybank x Female reader 

Summary: JJ is determined to help you get your favorite candy for movie night. 

Word count: 852 words 

© Allycat004 2023, please don’t steal, translate, repost, or copy my work. 

After being at work all day, I couldn’t wait to go home and have movie night with Jayj. Before we could even get home we of course had to stop to get some snacks. We had gotten almost everything we wanted except for my favorite candy, peach rings. Him and I looked up and down the isles twice and they were nowhere to be seen. 

“ It’s okay Jayj, I’ll be alright without them, let's just check out and go home. “  I said and he looked at me like I was crazy. 

“ Are you sure babe, we can go look at one more store that’s on the way home if you want. “ He said and I thought about it for a moment before I responded. 

“ Okay. “ I said with a nod and he just gave me a cute boyish smile that made my heart do a little backflip. 

After we checked out, JJ insisted on carrying the bag while we walked to the liquor  store just a few blocks up. I told him to wait inside while I did a quick browse around to see if they had them. I looked for about 3 minutes and they didn’t have them either, so I walked out empty handed. All JJ did was take one look at me, saw my empty hands, and did a dramatic eye roll, which made me chuckle. 

“ Nothing? “ He asked and I just shrugged. 

“ They didn’t half them, the spot where they would’ve been was empty. “ I replied and he tilted his head then did that smile he gets when he’s up to something. 

“ Come on, I have an idea. “ He said as he gently grabbed my hand and headed back inside while I followed behind. 

“ What are you- “ I couldn’t even finish my sentence because we stopped right in front of the checkout counter. 

The person who was supposed to be working the counter wasn’t there, but there was a bell and knowing my boyfriend I knew what he was going to do the moment he spotted it. I knew he saw it when he dropped my hand and I just stood there and watched him press on the bell multiple times before a very annoyed guy came out from what looked like a small break room. 

“ Hi, how can I help you? “ He asked with no enthusiasm whatsoever. 

“ Well you are just a ray of sunshine aren’t you? JJ asked teasingly and I nudged him while trying not to laugh. 

“ Look kid, what do you want? “ He sighed, getting even more annoyed than he already was. 

“ You see, my lovely girlfriend here wants some peach rings and there is no more out on the aisle. Would you be so kind and check the back for us? “ JJ asked him while wrapping one of his arms around my shoulders with a condescending smile. 

The guy huffed and rolled his eyes then walked off to the back to look for the candy. I just chuckled and shook my head because I can’t comprehend the audacity that JJ has sometimes, it amazes me everyday. 

“ You’re insane, you know that? “ I asked playfully as I turned my head to look at him. 

“ Y/N, baby I know. “ JJ replied, then kissed my cheek, making me smile. 

“ Good. “ I chuckled, then got on my tippy toes and kissed his cheek. 

We waited for about 5 minutes and then the guy came back out with four packs of peach rings in his hands. He tossed them on the counter and I went to pay for them, but JJ nudged me out of the way and bought them for me then put them in our bag. I playfully rolled my eyes and he just smiled at me. 

“ Thank you…. Rick. “ I said after reading the guys’ name tag. 

“ You’re welcome. “ He replied with a huff. 

“ Yeah Rick, it meant so much to us. “ JJ said as he stepped back up to the counter and leaned forward. “ You’re a peach ! “ He said as he reached over and lightly patted Rick on the cheek. 

“ Get the fuck out of my store. “ Rick said while looking pissed instead of annoyed this time. 

JJ snickered as he stepped back, held my hand, and then sped walked out of the store with me following behind. I laughed and shook my head, trying to fathom what he just did right now. We laughed about it as we kept walking, until JJ stopped and looked at me. 

“ What ? “ I asked as I looked at him. 

“ Hey, do you think you’d be able to do what you did with the fruit roll ups with these- “ JJ didn’t even get to finish his question before I cut him off. 

“ JJ Maybank, knock it off! Also no… they’d rip in half. “ I replied as I chuckled and he just smirked at me. 

I playfully pushed him away and he laughed then came back over to me, wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and kissed my head. Then we talked and laughed the rest of the way back to our apartment. I loved nights like this. 

[frankcastlescumslut]

okay so idk about you, but i have accepted that matt murdock is a pain whore. a masochist, if you will. so kind of sub!matt x reader smut where they keep pressing on his bruises and choking the life out of him and he's just enjoying it 😌 drooling at the thought rn.

oh I have thought, pondered, philosophized, theorized, abt this all day. i’m drooling from my pu-

Pain and Pleasure

word count: 2.5k

pairing: sub!Matt Murdock x dom!Fem Reader

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!!! sub/dom themes, oral (m receiving) p in v, slight degradation, praise kink, use of “mommy” (sorry this is more for me than anyone else lol) use of “good boy”, cockwarming, slight breeding mention, use of safe word/color

comments/feedback/reblogs/like are always welcome!!! my inbox is currently open!!! thank you for reading!!

DO NOT STEAL OR REPOST MY WORK. I’LL CRY.

“what did I tell you about that, huh?” the freezer door slams shut.

“what did I tell you about going out without your suit?“ cabinet drawers rattle as you yank them open in search for a dish towel.

“do you remember?” you hastily turn on the sink in order to wet the rag before wrapping the ice pack, not allowing Matt to answer your rhetorical questions.

“I said, ‘Matthew, if you go out there, you’re gonna get hurt’, and what happened?” your feet carry you to the couch, quickly straddling the battered body. he winces as you place the cool ice pack against the growing bruise on his cheekbone.

“you got hurt.”

you can’t help the way your heart lurches as his puppy dog eyes droop under your touch. he looks pitiful.

“I’m sorry,” he all but whispers in defeat.

you want to be mad. you want to be furious. you want to grab him by the shirt and yell in his face that he doesn’t have to be a martyr, but you don’t. you can’t.

it’s quiet as you contemplate whether you should keep up your facade of empty anger that disguised your worry; only the sounds of shallow breathing and the buzzing of neon fills the apartment.

the ice pack numbs your palm as you hold it against the wound. your free hand strokes his hair, welcoming the way he leans into your touch.

you take a moment to scan his body for any glaring injuries and breathe a sigh of relief as you spot none. a few scrapes and bruises linger around his neck and his lip is nearly cracked, but nothing out of the ordinary. you can’t even be sure the bruises around his throat aren’t from you.

“‘’m sorry, really. I shouldn’t have gone out tonight, you were-“ his eyelids flutter and his voice gets caught.

“Matt? what’s wrong? did I hurt you?” your face scrunches in concern as you search for the culprit of his pain, quickly pulling the ice pack away.

“n-no, sweetheart,” he clears his throat and looks anywhere other than your face.

“sorry, I just-“ his mouth falls open as you place the ice on his bruise. that’s a face you’ve seen before, just not under these circumstances.

the air gets trapped in your lungs as you make sense of the scene before you, and the growing bulge underneath you.

your gaze doesn’t go unnoticed. blood seems to course through your body at an alarming rate, emphasizing the warmth in your cheeks, neck, and core. your eyes shut in embarrassment; he is hurting, get it together, but the image of his doe eyes and full pout is seared into your memory.

it's as if your hips move on their own accord, slightly adjusting to the hard member that rubs against you, and the whimper that leaves his lips acts as a switch, activating your own needs.

“Matthew,” his name leaves your lips as a whisper, barely concealing your urge to moan.

“do you like that?” it’s condescending. the ice pack presses into his cheekbone ever so slightly, eliciting a small moan.

“does it feel good?” you can’t help but lightly grind yourself against him as you lean forward, placing a gentle kiss to his throat. his hips buck in response.

“do you like it when I do this?” you add a little more pressure to his bruise while simultaneously nipping at his neck. the taste of his blood, sweat, and dirt coat your tongue, only adding to your enjoyment.

his chest heaves underneath you as you taste him. it’s overwhelming- the way your heartbeat thunders in his ears, confirming your enjoyment, the way your blood rushes to your cheeks, the way your arousal practically perfumes the living room- he’s desperate for you.

“please,” hazel eyes desperately search your face.

“please what, baby?” fingertips trace along his cheeks and chin before softly caressing his lips.

“please touch-touch me” he stammers, eyes wild and breath uneven. you can’t help but press your lips to his in order to soothe him. he melts under your affection, groaning at the touch.

“you want me to touch you?” you mumble into his lips while rocking your clothed, aching cunt against him.

“yes, please” a large hand grips your waist, holding you to him, while the other grasps at the leather couch.

“mm, such a good boy when you beg” your teeth catch his bottom lip as he ruts into you.

you reluctantly pull away from his swollen lips, but relish in the sight beneath you. his eyelids are hooded over, lips glisten with your spit, and his chest rises as quickly as it falls from uneven breaths. he’s ruined and you haven’t even touched him yet.

you can’t help but laugh at the way a hand reaches out to grab at your thigh as you hoist yourself off of him.

“ohh, someone’s needy, huh?” he whimpers at your realization.

the sounds of clothes dropping to the floor sends a blush to his cheeks and he groans as his pants become unbearably tight. your arousal practically coats his tongue as he licks his lips, needy for any part of you.

he’s surprised when your fingers lift the hem of his black shirt, but he doesn’t question it and lifts his arms for you to strip him. your fingers scramble to remove the remaining clothes, careful to avoid his member as you slide his pants off, not wanting to give him the satisfaction quite yet.

“sit up” your voice is harsh and you swear you saw his cock twitch through his boxers.

he immediately obeys, a little too quickly and eagerly, and scrambles so that his back rests against the cushions. a smirk finds home on your lips at his desperation.

“you’ve been such a good listener for me, baby,” you stroke the side of his face as you shuffle between his legs.

“do you think so? do you think I should reward you for being a good boy?” he moans as your delicate fingers squeeze the sides of his throat. your arousal practically drips from your bare core.

“y-yes mommy! yes, please, I-“ you swipe two fingers through your wet folds before placing them in his mouth. he moans into the taste of you on your fingers, tongue swirling around the digits in haste.

a gag fills the room as you shove your fingers further into his throat, his hand that wraps around your wrist only pushes them down further.

“Matt, sweetheart, what’s your color?” you wipe away the tear that falls onto his cheek.

“green! green” his eyes fall shut as he places a kiss to your palm.

your lips melt into one another as you swallow his moan. it took so much for him to admit that he needed to be out of control every once in a while, and god, you swore that you would never complain again if it meant you could take care of him like this- to be the one to soothe him was an honor you wore proudly.

as much as you were hesitant to admit it, you also loved seeing him absolutely wrecked under your control.

the hardwood floor is rough under your knees, but the sight of Matt coming undone in front of you is enough to distract you from the discomfort.

“oh jesus!” the name sounds ludicrous coming from his lips as you free his member from its constraints.

“ohh, look at you sweet boy,” you coo, running a finger from the shaft to the leaking tip. his hips automatically buck into your touch, desperate for more.

“do you need me to make you feel better, hm?” your fingertips practically glide over him.

his hands dig into the leather as he twitches and squirms.

“please, please I can’t take it. please, I need you”

“you know I love it when you beg, such a good boy for me” you breathe against his member before placing a small kiss to the red tip, precum wetting your lips.

the moans that fill the living room are filthy.

your hands rest on your knees as your tongue trails from the base of his cock to swirl around the sensitive tip. hot breath only provides extra stimulation before you wrap your plush lips around him, gently sucking and lapping up the drops of precum.

your eyes flutter shut as you relish the taste of him with a moan, causing him to twitch against your tongue. his moans and whimpers sound like music.

“christ, that feels so good sweetheart” his eyes flutter as he leans his head against the cushion.

“mhm?” your response is muffled as you bob your head down the length of him.

“your mouth feels so good, angel, fuck” you stick your tongue out so that you can take him further into your mouth, gagging as the tip hits the back of your throat.

you hoist yourself up, hands pressing into the tops of his knees, so you can take him fully. strings of spit dribble from your lips and onto his cock as you suck, your name falling from his lips.

large hands smooth your hair into a makeshift ponytail and you feel your head being pushed further down- nose meeting his pelvis. you couldn’t stop your arousal from coating your pussy.

“just like that, fuck!“ you peek through tear stained eyelashes to find his face, squished and mouth agape as he used you. you drag a small hand up his torso and land on his neck, fingers desperately squeezing.

“you’re gonna make me cum, I want to cum” his thrusts become sloppy as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth.

you gasp for air as you release him. Matt didn’t need his sight to enjoy the way your drool coats your lips and chin and tears stained your face. you could feel yourself slipping out of control, desperate for his touch.

“not yet, baby” you hoist yourself up, his large hands hold onto your hips you as you catch your breath.

“you’re gonna cum in my pussy, okay?” he leans forward to pull you against him, your face is squished against his before you can protest.

you moan in unison as you straddle him, your warm cunt nudging against his throbbing cock. you slip a hand between your bodies before running the tip through your wet folds.

“fuck, use me, please, use me” he cries into your neck.

you lower yourself slightly, only allowing the tip to fill your need.

“that feel good, hm? does my pussy feel good around you?” you try to catch a glimpse of the way your pussy teases him.

“so good, you make me feel so good” he gently bites down on your neck, pulling a moan from you.

“look at me, baby” your hand finds the hair at the nape of his neck and tugs, pulling him to face you. his glazed eyes scan your face, desperate to find your eyes.

“i want to watch you while i use you” you lower yourself onto him, fully taking his length. your eyes flutter, trying hard to watch as he unravels in front of you as your pussy grips him.

“god Matty, you’re so fucking big” you hold onto his shoulders as you adjust, his hands gripping your waist.

a small whimper leaves his lips as you squeeze around him.

“you’re doing so good for me,” you push his hair out of his face as you grind your hips forward, hitting your g-spot expertly.

“you feel so, fuck, so good”, he moans into your mouth as you pick up your pace.

“feels like h-heaven. you feel like heaven” you can’t help but clench at his praise. your hands roam his body in an attempt to draw even closer.

“i love the way you fill my pussy, you’re such a good boy” you bounce up and down while peppering wet kisses to his jaw and neck, squeezing gently to swallow his moan.

“such a good boy for me” you moan into his mouth.

his hands grasp at your soft skin, helping to lift you enough just to slam you back down on his length. his orgasm threatens to spill over as you squeeze around him.

“‘m gonna cum, god, ‘m gonna cum” he’s mumbling into the air as you lick a stripe along his neck.

“not yet, baby. wait for me” you take advantage of his open mouthed moans by sticking two fingers against his tongue. he wets them with ease, and you begin to circle your clit.

your cunt flutters with the new pleasure, and you realize how close you are to your own orgasm. Matt picks up on your increased heartbeat and the goosebumps that litter your skin. his hands roam your body as you grind against him, chasing your own climax, and his mouth wraps around your supple breasts.

“fuck, baby” you moan at the new sensation of his teeth grazing your nipples.

“i’m gonna cum soon, are you ready to cum with me?” your hand pulls at his hair, his eyes slamming shut.

”hm? gonna be a good boy and cum with me?”

“yes, mommy” your mouth slacks open as he responds with one of your nipples between his teeth.

you nearly orgasm on the spot.

you rub circles against your sensitive clit and rut against him, desperate to achieve your high. his cock twitches inside of you and you know he’s doing his best to wait for you.

fingers pinch and pull at your nipple that isn’t in his mouth and he moans against you, thrusting in determination to bring you crashing down on him.

“that’s it, baby. make mommy feel good, you’re doing so good for me” your head flies back as your g-spot is hit with precision.

“fuck, Matty, I’m gonna cum-“ your forehead rests against his, your fingers rubbing your clit.

“cum on my cock, please, please”

“cum in my pussy, baby. be a good boy and fill my pussy”

your moans reverberate throughout the apartment as you both climax together. it’s messy, animalistic, and you claw at each other to somehow prolong the pleasure as you become enmeshed. you slowly drag your core up and down his length to milk him, eventually coming to a stop with him still buried in you.

you catch his quivering lip in between yours as he twitches under your touch. your body warms as his calloused hands rub against your bare back before resting on your waist, pulling you closer to him. the air buzzes between your bodies as you come to.

“I love you” you brush his hair out of his face before placing a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you” his lips meet your sternum.

it takes you a second to meet his stare. his eyes are sleepy, his lips curl into a dopey smile, and he relaxes into the feel of your hand against his cheek.

“how are you feeling? can I get you some water? what do you need, honey?” you’re not sure why you whisper, but it feels right- intimate.

“you. just you” he pulls your forehead to his lips.

your nose nuzzles into the crook of his neck as you rest against him, enjoying his warmth and embrace. his back is smooth under the feel of your fingers as you draw lazy circles into his skin, him following suit on your own back.

your eyes close while you silently thank whatever god he prays to for sending him to you.

————

thank you for this yummy ask🙈

[insanityisdivine]

Get to Know Me and My Obsession with KISS 🎸

Thanks for the tag @starry-eyed-never-satisfied

1. Who is your favourite member?

Okay. Paul is my first love but sexy Ace is competing with him but god I have to say Paul.

2. Who is your least favourite member?

Everyone saying Mark. I know nothing bout him

3. Best album?

RARO ...I'm assuming studio albums and live albums don't count???

4. Worst album?

I didn't listen to their last two albums and have no intention to do so ATM

5. Favourite song?

THIS IS TOO HARD TO CHOOSE. Guess I gotta say Love Gun Though But I love C'mon and Love Me!

6. Say one nice thing about each member.

Paul- He's the STAR of KISS. I probably wouldn't have gotten into KISS if it weren't for him. Everything I adore and want to be

Gene- I wanna listen to him talk while we share milk and chocolate chip cookies together

Peter- I have a soft spot for him. I think he can be really sweet and cute

Ace- Sexy, trashy, baby girl, sexy girl in hooker boots. Wanna bend over and smack that ass. He and Paul are my bisexual fantasies. BUT SERIOUSLY, The first guitar player that made me go WOW. Never got the hype about lead guitarists before but then I was thinking of 80s rock and 80's rock solos never resonated with me. His solos are iconic, not just shredding/mindless noodling. As someone who never learned how to read music, I think it's amazing he influenced many to learn. I'd love to learn how to play. Not to be in a band but I've always wanted to play a guitar. Also, I'd love to hang out with him. He's funny and bright. I think there's softness to him and I'd like to believe (coming from a fan, of course) that he's a good person. He also reminds me of my ex early 90s era....so I guess I have a soft spot for him

Eric C- I wish I could meet him. If I had to pick one member I could meet it would be him because I know he'd be super sweet

Vinnie- talented songwriter and amazing voice. Gorgeous

Mark- He did his job on Animalize

Bruce- Super sweet. He was the cutie of the group during revenge era ngl. Paul had competition.

Eric S- Seems really funny. got a nice tight body. seems every KISS drummer has a nice bod.

Tommy- Loyal and hard working. I can see why KISS kept him. Honestly he'd the kind of guy you want in your group.

7. What do you dislike about each member?

Gene- Condescending. I can see he has some views on things that I'd butt heads with him on

Paul- Overly critical of others, may come across cold. He scares me. y'all see his posts for new years???? He can come across very hurtful in his choice of words

Peter- Bitter (in the past it seems) and tbh some of the shit I read and heard that unfortunately was allowed to slide (sometimes even passed off as "funny" stories). It's a sensitive topic for me.

Ace- like Peter, awful things said and done that cannot be solely blamed on addiction which I'm very glad he recovered from btw. I'm honestly glad I never put this man on a pedestal and it's not just because "he's human like the rest of us". lol I love him but I'm glad I've been exposed to the bad early on this obsession so I don't have any unrealistic ideas about ppl, you know? I think I need to sleep with him to sort out these feelings lol

Eric C- I don't know that much to comment and feels almost unfair because he was taken away from us much too soon

Vinnie- stop scamming people omg. the insanity and charging ppl for memberships and you haven't released shit???

Mark- don't know about him. can't comment

Bruce- Maybe too nice for his own good.

Eric S- I don't know. Should have created a sex tape with Gene

Tommy- Kinda weird seeing him try to mimic Ace's facial expressions. One thing to imitate solos and his space persona but his mannerisms? I dunno just weird to see someone mimic what Ace's face naturally does? Kissy pouty lips only work for Ace

8. How did you get into KISS?

years ago, just bombarded with their imagery and sound on TV shows

9. Have you been to a concert?

Their last show. Crushing, I know

10. Do you have any merch?

I have a shirt

11. Unique thing you have related to KISS?

None, sadly. Like I have nothing solid if that's what you mean. anything that may have in common? sure but feels too personal to share here

12. Who is/are your favourite lineup?

This is hard because early 90s KISS was TIGHT. but I'll always love the original 4, but sweet Foxy and Brucie is so precious

13. What's your favourite era?

FUCCKKK....see this is hard. I have a big soft spot for Dynasty/Unmasked but I also love DTK and HTH

14. What are your opinions on Tommy and Eric?

They did their job. If they hadn't stepped in I wouldn't have seen KISS final show and for that I am grateful. I enjoyed their participation.

15. A question you would ask the band if you could?

I'd ask if I could suck their dick. That's tough. What haven't they've been asked before? Honestly I got some questions for Ace that's been bugging me and I know I'd never get them answered unless I knew him personally and had a real heart-to-heart conversion. I dunno I can only go off from a fan's perspective about how that'll go

16. What other bands/artists are you into?

Led Zeppelin, Madonna, Kylie Minogue, Lady Gaga, Stromae, used to really like Adam Ant, The Sweet, OLP, Franz Ferdinand, Daft Punk. I listen to all kinds of genres and artists so I like what I like

17. Do you have a KISSona?

Don't have one. I'm assuming like a fursona? lol

18. Who are some of your favourite blogs?

@ladyshandioftheendless @elrohare @silverstarfoxx (thank you for tolerating all my pestering! never hesitate to reach out to me for more Ace goodies!) @notpaulsguitar @ohblackdiamond (though tbh I swear you have answered this lol) @space-frehley-22 @spacefoxy (resident eric carr connoisseur) @speckster (you have crazy ass edits) and same goes for @bangbangyou love your funny memes. the IP address as a response always gets me lol @starry-eyed-never-satisfied (you already did this but adding you here anyway fellow Paulie enjoyer!) There's many more I wish I could just mass tag KISS blogs lol. There are blogs that are no longer active but I am glad they are still around

19. If you could spend a day with one member who would it be?

Hard because I love Paul but he scares me. I think I'd need more than a day to get comfortable with him. I'd love to spend a day with Eric C or Bruce because they seem the nicest. Maybe I'd love to hang with Peter now. Gene, may be fun. He's a good talker. Though it be fun to get one-on-one time with Ace. I'd love a tour of all his tech and then we can compare and just geek out on technology.

20. How would you explain the band to someone who isn't familiar with KISS?

I don't know. Honestly the other people who answered this already gave greats explanations. So many pass judgment on them without giving them a chance. They're a one-of-a-kind experience. There will never be a band like them.

[slut4thebroken]

“I’m not scared of you” “You should be.”

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader Summary | reader is just being a brat lmao idk Warnings | sexual content, 18+, knife play, fear kink, choking, bondage Words | 1k Notes | so this was a draft that I didn't finish but I read it again recently and it lowkey slaps lol so I decided to just post what I have and if enough people ask then I'll write more lol. Ao3 link | <3 Masterlist

"Technically this was not how you intended for this night to go. Being a brat wasn't your original plan but... you can't resist making him frustrated... making him snap. It usually ends well for you. Or bad depending on how you look at it. But alas here you are.

"Kneel." Bucky's arms were crossed and his legs apart, trying to stand in an intimidating way. You're not going to tell him it's working though.

"Why should I do that?" You mirrored his stance.

"Because I told you to. You don't want me to tell you again." You rolled your eyes and his fists clenched.

"No." You smirked at him and his jaw clenched this time. Bucky took a slow step toward you, eyes never leaving yours. When he took another step your confidence faltered. On his third step you started moving backwards.

Have his muscles gotten bigger? Cause it looks like it. Every once in a while you remember that Bucky could probably kill you with just his pinky, not that he would, his mind is free and even if it wasn't everyone knows he could never harm you. But as someone with a fear kink, it's nice to think about in times like this.

Your back hit the wall and you dropped your arms to your sides, still trying to maintain eye contact. He wasn't touching you yet but you could feel his body heat and his breath fanning across your face.

He showed no emotion as he watched you. Eventually you broke eye contact and looked at his chest. You swallowed then willed yourself to look up again.

"What was that?" He had a small smirk now and he moved his right hand up to the wall beside your head.

"I-" you took a deep breath, trying to look confident, "I said no." His smirk widened and he looked at your lips, then down to your chest, his height allowing him to see down your shirt. Your chest is heaving and you know he knows you're scared. He hummed quietly then brought his eyes back up to yours.

His metal hand was on your neck, the cold pressure surprising you and making you gasp. Bucky used his grip on the sides of your throat to push your head into the wall.

"I told you you don't want me to tell you again. Are you sure this is how you want to play this, doll?" You held back a whimper and tried to calm your breathing.

"I'm not scared of you."

Bucky leaned closer and you started to close your eyes, expecting a kiss, but he stopped. Lips just barely touching yours.

"You should be." He whispered. He yanked your head forward and you let out a startled cry. Bucky walked across the room, practically dragging you by your throat, and threw you onto the bed like a rag doll- well your nickname is doll isn't it?...

You scrambled to the head of the bed, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible, but he seemed unfazed. He sighed as he watched you.

"Baby... the night started so well, you were being such a good girl. And now..." He looked up and down your body "you're acting like a fucking brat." He started walking to the dresser and opened the drawer.

"That's okay. I like breaking you. And by the time we're done, I will have turned you into a sloppy, desperate, begging mess." You saw him take out rope, a ball gag and something else that he hid in the rope so you couldn't see it.

"I'd like to see you try." You said, with a confidence that suprised even you. Bucky looked at you, smirk still on his stupid beautiful face, and started walking to the bed.

"Don't worry, doll. It shouldn't be too hard, you break so easily for me." His voice was condescending and you hated how that made you even wetter. "Lay down." You watched as he stood next to the bed and put everything down onto it.

"N-no." Your confidence is very quickly disappearing. His smirk was still going strong as he kneeled on the bed.

"Thought so." He sighed. Bucky grabbed your wrist and you protested, trying to get him to let go. However he took your other arm and held it to your side, then kneeled over your body to hold you still as he tied your wrist to the bed. He quickly moved onto the other one, then to your ankles.

When you were fully bound he kneeled on the bed between your legs. You started squirming, testing the stength of the knots... which unsurprisingly was very strong.

Bucky reached into one of his pants pockets and pulled out a knife. You knew he carried it on him almost everywhere he goes, mostly out of habit, so that wasn't what made you gasp. Instead it was when he brought the knife up to the top of your dress and cut it straight down the middle.

"That was expensive!" You whined. He shrugged and cut the shoulder areas so that he could take the dress completely off of you. Once he threw that to the floor he moved the knife to your bra.

"Wait-" He cut that the same way he cut your dress. "Bucky, wait-" you started as he moved to your underwear. He paused and looked at you.

"Let me ask you something, doll. Which one of us is currently holding a knife?"

"...You." You said quietly.

"And which one of us is currently tied to the bed?" You rolled your eyes and looked away from him.

"That's what I thought. Now it doesn't seem like you're in any position to be making demands right, doll?"

"Whatever." You pouted. He quickly grabbed your face and turned your head to look at him. His grip hurt your cheeks and the cold metal made you shiver.

"Baby..." he clicked his tongue, "that doesn't sound like any way to talk to someone who has you at knife point does it?"

"I'm not scared of you." You repeated. He smirked again and moved the knife to your neck.

"You should be." He whispered.

[naneun-no]

I love jikook but you should let taekookers have this..I mean, it's normal that they're happy. Jikook don't interact on social media and you can't find excuses because Jimin liked some old posts of Yoongi and Tae, so he could like Jungkook posts too but he didn't. He never mentioned Jungkook during his live, and Jungkook didn't say anything about Vibe. They don't interact in public. Jimin posted Jk in Qatar and that's all. (And don't mention birthdays because many members interacts on birthdays). Taekook spent time together 1. Tae posted a story with Jk month ago. 2. They went to play bowling and maybe to ski resort. 3. They were in a hotel making a video together (it was different from the video made by the staff. Tk directed and edited the video) 4. Tae mentioned that he talked to Jk on phone 5. Tae said he supposed to travel with Jk 6. Tae said that he asked Jk to play with him 7. Today they were together/ or they played together. All this in these last months. We see jikook moments only when there are old clips or thanks to run bts. It's okay to be sad. I'm sad too. But taekookers have the right to he happy. They basically have what jikookers had in the past. Tk are often together, and we don't know the relationship status of jikook. Maybe sometimes they meet, maybe not. But taekook are now that jikook were in the past. Sad but the reality

Lol, well dang. I kinda thought that’s what I was doing when I responded playfully instead of making it something negative.

Which I could have, cause the previous anon (maybe it was you?) came in hot to MY blog with a condescending attitude talkin about “it’s time to admit the truth” like some kind of self-important prophet. Believe me, there were a whole lot of things I could have said but I thought I would just be kind of silly and have fun with their wording slip-up (which happens to all of us, which is why I mentioned in the tags that it was all in good fun and I meant no offense. I included that particularly in case English wasn’t their first language; my aim was to have a little fun, not be discouraging).

And… who’s sad? 😅 I mean I know you said you are but I’m not. I’m an adult, and so even if I have this whole thing ass backwards wrong I’m not gonna be SAD about who two men I don’t even know are fucking. A little surprised, maybe a little bummed, yeah, but ultimately unaffected because their relationship was and still is beautiful regardless. And I certainly don’t feel even a little bummed right now, because I haven’t seen any reason to doubt their closeness.

In fact, pretty much the only thing that makes me sad on here is when people decide to anonymously stomp into someone else’s space and demand things of them with the entitlement of a 3 year old.

I’m having a grand old time in my silly little corner of the internet, minding my own business. I got a good laugh today and tried to do so without being TOO much of a jerk. I love that Tae and JK are hanging out, which you would know if you’d bothered to read anything else I’ve said. I don’t think them hanging out means what you think it means, but that’s okay.

I love BTS. I love Jikook. I love Taehyung, and Taekook, and all the various pairings and groupings and friendships within that group of 7 lovely men. I happen to believe that one pair is involved romantically, and that’s okay. That doesn’t stop anyone else from believing what they believe and enjoying their own pieces and corners of the fandom. But this is my space. Get the difference? I have never and will never elbow my way into a Taekook space and wag my tongue. Notice how I NEVER tag Taekook for that exact reason.

I have no problem “letting them have this.” They absolutely are welcome to have it. You, however, are not welcome to tell me how to respond in my space.

Whatever. Have some vminkook.

[imawh0r3-86]

eddie brainrot

MKAY i have had this in my brain for ages so you all have to suffer too

this is smut so minors go away, daddy kink, just a little ass stuff, you guess what comes next lol

imagine being so fuckin horny but Eddie just won’t pay attention, whether he actually doesn’t notice you pining like a horndog, or he’s just being an asshole as he is known to be at times.

You’re on the bed with a book that you’ve barely read a single page out of while he’s on the other side on the floor working on a campaign. 

Suddenly he gets up to go get snacks, and you see your opening.

You situate yourself, pulling down your ratty gym shorts and panties and bending over the side of the bed he’d been so immersed in, resting your head on your fist and making a big show of looking innocent as fuck.

You’re so horny that your pussy is already glistening and nearly dripping on the campaign papers, You’re facing away from the door now so all you hear when Eddie opens it is the hot cheeto bag and the tab falling to the coarse carpet.

“Honey.” He warns, stepping closer. You didn’t know if he was warning you because you were being bad or if there was another reason, but at this point, the lust had overwhelmed you and you just wanted the sticky feeling in your cunt and the pressure in clit to go, away.

“Daddy.” You croon, not sounding at all like yourself. He comes to kneel behind you and you can practically feel his gaze on both of your holes. He puts two hands on your ass and you push it out to him. 

“Was baby feelin’ left out?” He runs a finger all the way down the crevice of your ass and through your messy folds, though not giving you what you wanted, even though he knew exactly what that was.

“Daddy wasn’t paying enough attention to the princess?” That last line came out condescending as a parent trying to hold in their laugh after their child has fallen over in their haste to get somewhere.

“Eddie my ass-” You wiggle it in his face to just try to get him to do something, anything. 

“If we’re doing this you know that’s not my name sweetheart.” He chuckled as he spreads a large hand over the small of your back.

“Daddy, pleaseeeee” you beg, similarly to a child.

“’Pleaseeeee’, please what baby girl? You’ve gotta be specific.” The condescension in his tone rising, if that was even possible.

“I need you.” You croaked.

“Oh you need me? Okay then Honey. You’re still not being specific so I get to do whatever the fuck I feel like giving you, and you’re just gonna have to take it, how’s that?” He bends down in your ear to say this, his voice raspy and low from the volume change. You can feel his hardened cock against your back.

“Daddy please touch my ass, my pussy just please make the sticky go awayyyyy.” You whined, now that Eddie had taken over, your brain now on autopilot, knowing that Daddy was taking care of you now.

“Oh, good girl. Good girl for using your words. Color?” ‘”Green, so so green.” 

He spread your plump cheeks and spit right on your puckered hole, you moan out the most pornographic sound he swears he has ever heard out of you. He sat there for a second letting your asshole wink and pucker.

“Oh baby. This is gonna be a long night.”

[dadsbongos]

Hi! Loving the work you do. So, I was wondering… is it possible for headcanons of Tamaki or Shinsou with a male s/o who's been losing sleep because of a sleep paralysis episode and frequent night terrors?

thank you so much :(( you're real sweet :) i got really excited when i saw this in my inbox lol

Requested for: Tamaki Amajiki and Hitoshi Shinso Warnings: not suuuper proofread Word Count: 701 (in bullet points) ~~~

Tamaki Amajiki:

He’d be so worried :( it’d be such an actual struggle for him to not baby you about it

Not in a way to condescend but just because you know, you’re his little guy and he loves you and wants the best for you

His gut reaction is to quiz you about every single night routine you have and how you sleep (when you do)

Immediately reads up on everything in relation to sleep paralysis and how to possibly aid it

Again, he just wants you to sleep well and often and as much as you need

All while ignoring that his own sleep schedule isn’t the best

Because of how he wants you resting (when you can) more than anything else, Tamaki is more than willing to let you copy his homework and notes for classes

But he also does want you studying so you are actually gaining info rather than relying on him

As for night terrors, he’s moooore than willing to be your guy for comfort

If that’s calling, visits, etc. then whatever

Literally anything for you <3 he adores you

Once again, looks up anything and everything to possibly aid night terrors

“Sleepytime tea :) for you.”

And cuddling during the days he’s noticed are often times when you have terrors

Like he studies any patterns in the terrors/paralysis so he can be sure to be especially available then

Tries to encourage regular sleep schedules, even if it's just you laying in bed while you’re awake, without coming off as nagging

But he doesn’t know what is and isn’t nagging and he’s really worried it’ll come off the wrong way so he always makes sure to clarify his intentions

“I just want you to be well-rested, not just because you’re a UA student but because you’re my boyfriend, and I love you. So I don’t want you to think I’m trying to be overbearing or anything but I just really think that- " - he's too nervous saying this to look at you though so he's got his face in a wall

You have to cut him off at some point

“Babe it’s fine, I get it” - that is you when you get it

You’re his scrimblo and he wants you to be able to sleep well <3

Hitoshi Shinso:

“Ayyyy, same.”

He may not have the same experience, but he’s got insomnia and he understands not being able to sleep

I’m not gonna lie dude, he does not do well with research and shit

Like he’ll listen to you thoroughly and for as long and as often as it comes up because he thinks talking through things is healthy :)

But he really doesn’t do a lot of research and stuff, like he’ll do a quick teehee on Google but he doesn’t go as in-depth

But he’s more than willing to be supportive and beyond, he wants the absolute best for you - don’t get it twisted

Literally seeks out any excuse to hang out with you so anytime you like call him or ask him to come over he’s already at your door

Tries to see if shit he uses for his insomnia would help you

Rather than let you copy his notes or homework and such, he sits you down and works with you on everything (unless you’re like suuuuper tired, then you two can just cuddle and lay down)

Once again, he’s definitely more than willing to comfort you whenever you need

Honestly, he’s probably awake by the time you need him anyway

Doting but not in a very outright way

Reminds you to try out certain things that he knows work for him when he tries sleeping, but always is sure to be gentle about it so as to not come across as “bugging”

He has night terrors on occasion, so while he can’t relate completely he does try to use what experience he does have with both calming himself and you calming him to comfort you

Okay just

Listen and hear me out

He isn’t, like, cringe but

As a joke, sometimes, he’ll say “Let me beat up your sleep paralysis demon, babe🥺”

“Babe let me fuck up your night terrors”

No but he tries to comfort you, cuz he really cares about you and your well-being and he wants you to do well <3

[shotorozu]

you like their hands

character(s) : shinsou hitoshi, kirishima eijirou, monoma neito (2/?)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns, quirk left unmentioned

post type : headcanons + small scenario [fluff, the mildest of spice] not even nsfw

note(s) : i was gonna put denki in this but i had a hard time thinking about what kinda hands he’d have, so i’m putting him in the next post

»»————-　♡　————-««

shinsou hitoshi

his hands are big, and his fingers are quite thick.

really likes wearing rings and bracelets, but he usually doesn’t wear them when he’s working (i’d say that bc wearing jewelry while doing physical activity HURTS)

regarding texture, his hands were initially soft— but due to transferring in the hero course, they roughened up over time

he’ll use hand cream if you want, but he doesn’t go the extra mile. and his nails are trimmed at all times. painting his nails a black color would be great once in a while.

lol i forgot to mention nails in the last post

he notices right away that you like his hands when he catches you staring at them when he’s cracking his knuckles

like.. people have said that his hands are nice, but he doesn’t really say much about them bc they’re not you

scenario

a crack sound is briefly heard in the rather silent room. the scrolling on your phone halts, and your eyes follow the sound of the crack.

ah, he’s cracking his knuckles. you think to yourself, and you’re left just simply admiring the way he applies pressure on a knuckle. who knew that his rather— large hand would look appealing, even while cracking his knuckles.

you snap out of your observation, but instead of just simply going back to whatever you were doing, you’re met with lilac eyes. “you were staring again.”

your cheeks heat up, and you opt to just turn your head to the opposite direction. “sorry,” you apologize. however— that’s not what hitoshi was looking for apparantly.

“if you like my hands alot,” he scoots next to you, hands sliding up and down your arms— his firm grip practically making the pre existing butterflies in your stomach act up again. “then you should’ve said so, kitty.”

is he conscious of his actions? hm. you could say that

he’ll purposely play with his capture tool right in front of you— the material wrapping around his hand. and he can only laugh when you immediately get absorbed into it

the back of his hand will brush against your cheek. then, when he comes in to kiss you, he’ll cup your cheek— kissing you with his other hand resting at your nape

under the table, his hand will start to slide against yours, interlocking hands with you. he’ll act like nothing is happening, but on the inside— he’s taking in your reaction

a little spicy, but when he wants you to look at him— he’ll do that thing where his thumb brushed against your bottom lip, as it almost dips right into your mouth

if he feels a little extra, his hand will also be tugging on your hair (if you’re fine with that. otherwise, he’s sticking to the one above)

oh and he also does that thing where he rests his hand on your neck, thick fingers squeezing your throat lightly.

overall— THIS MAN omg, he’ll entertain your interest in his hand nicely, just for you. and every single thing he does is memorable

kirishima eijirou

his hands are quite normal regarding size, they are almost always veiny, a lot more than bakugou’s actually. i think at some point he was concerned about them

his hands are rather flushed in color, but that’s because of his quirk. his fingers have a few tiny scars here and there,

he occasionally has pen marks on his wrists due to bad penmanship, and his nails.. don’t look the best, but they’re not the worst it’s bc of his quirk

the palms of his hands are ridden with callouses. but he wears them with pride because it’s the pure evidence of his hard work with his training.

but he starts to get worried about them when he goes to hold your hand.

you always had a thing for kirishima’s hands, but you just never had the chance to tell him that. i guess asking you did it for him

scenario

did you even realize how hard you were staring at his hands right now? it happened every single time he enlaced his arms around you, his hands resting at the sides of your arms

at first, he thought it might’ve been because his hands are too rough, or you might’ve been in discomfort— because maybe, just maybe, he accidentally activated his quirk?

the fact that he can’t exactly tell what it is worried him, maybe he should just ask you.

but his worry washed off when you told him upfront that you ‘liked his hands’

“wait so.. you’re staring at my hands because you like them?” kirishima wants to confirm your words, and— so casually, by the way— nod in agreement.

tracing the veins on his hands, you elaborate “your hands are really nice, i can tell how hard you must’ve worked.” pressing your smaller hand against his, you smile.

eijirou takes a moment to process it, but it’s surprisingly quick. “oh t-thanks!” he sheepishly took the compliment, a small blush sporting on his cheeks. “i’m glad it wasn’t because you thought they were weird.”

kirishima unintentionally feeds your interest with his hands. like sometimes.. he’s just not aware of it, but yes— he is feeding your interest well

will always make you compare hand sizes with him, chuckling softly at the dazed look on your face when your palms touch

if you allow him, he’ll fix your hair for you. doesn’t matter what hair type you have, he’ll do LOTS of research to know how to style it

those hands are magical

if you get a papercut, or a wound from cooking— he’ll patch you up, then he’ll press a kiss on the bandaid.

he’ll do this thing where he’ll squeeze your sides when you pull in for a hug. but if you’re not okay with that, he’ll opt to just rubbing your back with his hand— rocking you softly as he hugs you

a little spicy, but his hands do wander a lot. you might need to even hold them in place to make sure they don’t go too wild

in addition to that, he’ll just SLIGHTLY, activate his quirk to make sure you’re conscious of his touch. his finger tips gliding against your back, sending shivers down your spine.

but of course, he’s careful. he doesn’t activate it to the point it causes scratch marks, nor will his actions draw blood. he doesn’t wanna do that

in short— kirishima’s a little clueless at first. he wouldn’t really tease you in public, but he’s surprisingly attentive to your interest.

monoma neito

his hands are on the tipping edge of slightly above average. he doesn’t have a lot of veins on his hands, but they do pop out depending on what quirk he’s using

monoma’s hands are pretty spotless of any scars (from cuts, abrasions, etc.) because he gets REALLY annoyed with wounds pretty easily

to the point he’d want to attend to the wound immediately, he doesn’t let them sit— it’s just a personal preference

his nails are at the perfect length. not too long and not too short to the point it hurts, you don’t know how he does it.

wears watches on his wrists, and not the digital type— he sorta acts like he can read it easily, but it takes him a few seconds to even get to know the time

you know this because kendo snitched on him and told you LOL

you secretly hate yourself for this, but you really like his hands because of how he takes care of them. you’d never tell monoma even though you’re dating him

scenario

you’re unsure of yourself on how your boyfriend— monoma, found out about your fascination with his hands. it was supposed to be a secret for the rest of your life, and you only remember talking about it once out loud

which you assumed was a close call, considering that you thought he didn’t hear it at all— but he did.

“so i heard you like my hands, huh Y/N?” monoma’s teasing tone does not aid the situation. your cheeks heat up with embarassment, and you can’t get yourself to answer his question— without sounding like a fool anyway.

you fake annoyance, “where’d that come from?” you ask, and monoma doesn’t seem to want to switch the topic

“i’m asking you a question, dear Y/N— i heard you like my hands,” his tone would’ve sounded condescending to any other person, but you can tell that he’s either genuinely curious

or just teasing you, because that’s how he is.

to aid his question, he brushes his fingers along your neck— near your pulse. you jolt, stunned by the sudden action— heart beating rapidly against your chest.

“see,” monoma presses his hand against your chest, where your heart is palpitating, grinning in a way that’s teasing you “it’s true, isn’t it? sweet Y/N has a thing for my hands, hm?”

you furrow your eyebrows, and flick his forehead— and he hisses in reaction, “fine then, i do like your hands.” you finally give in, admitting final defeat.

ever since then, you haven’t heard the end of it

definitely that person that’ll just randomly bring it up to you, no matter what hour of the day it is.

“oh Y/N, you were totally fawning over my hands earlier—”

“i will castrate you.”

you know he means well most of the time, but sometimes he just loves teasing the heck out of you.

but that doesn’t mean he neglects your obvious interest in his hands.

he’ll compliment you, he’s a snarky person in general— but to you, he’s totally smooth with it.

slides his hand from your forearm to your hands, only to bring them up to his lips, pressing a kiss against your hand

squeezes your hand everytime he sees you, it’s kind of a nonverbal greeting at this point

similar to kirishima, he likes comparing hand sizes— teasing you about the size difference (even if it’s not even a big of a difference, he’ll take that chance.)

does this thing where he rubs his thumb against his palm. does it a lot when he’s concentrated about something, or just out of the blue

a little spicy, but he’ll make you tell him what you like about his hands, and what you like about the things he does with those hands of his. if that makes sense

he wants all of the details, doesn’t care if it’s mundane, or things he does when he’s feeling a certain way.

he wants to know, because as soon as you’re done with your spewl, he’ll do exactly what you like, teasing you while he’s at it. and so he can start incorporating those habits whenever he’s around you.

totally someone that’ll make you suck on those fingers. oh, but he’ll purposely get some dessert on them— asking you to suck them off

“good grief, i got some dessert on my fingers again. Y/N, come suck them off”

sometimes he’s serious, sometimes he’s just teasing.

overall— it’s pretty adventurous. he starts to act on it as soon as the revelation is revealed to him.

but i’d say he does just fine.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing, and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, translate, repost, or use my work for audio readings without my consent :))

[yesimwriting]

The Promise of Rain, Blurb 3

Technically the third in a blurb-ish series (though this is kinda long for a blurb lol) but can technically be read as a stand alone, but i think the other parts make this seem more significant lol

A/n kinda angsty, not sure if i loveeee this but i haven’t posted a fic in such a long time bc of graduation chaos but now it’s summer and i’m working on a lot of requests/stories :))

Summary: jealousy is out of place when there’s no real warrant for it, and sometimes it’s okay to be content--to not need the rain to make you promises. 

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y! reader

--

Tiredness dulls the part of me that craves the rambunctious, but I’m still positive. I smile when someone does something only the truly inebriated find comical. I laugh when something somewhat actually funny happens, and I let the world around me drink. Twenty minutes--in twenty minutes I will claim a headache and go upstairs. 

“You okay, y/n?” Jesper’s concern would border on genuinely considerate if it wasn’t for the slightest hint of slur in his words. Nights in which he consols himself after losing game after game are when he’s the friendliest. “You’re strangely quiet--you’re never quiet.” 

I press my lips together oddly, smiling in a way that finally reaches my eyes. Jesper’s nice in an oddly particular way when he’s tipsy. Overly observant and careful. “Just a little tired,” I shift in my seat, leaning back against the plush seat in Kaz’s office, “I wish Kaz would just get here and dismiss us so I can go to bed.” 

Jesper smiles, lifting his arm slightly and causing his glass to sway. Kaz is not going to take it well when he realizes that Jesper was extremely involved in the downstairs celebration. He turns ungracefully, moving to sit next to me with no warning. I half-heartedly glare as he takes up most of the small couch. 

“You’re grumpy when you’re tired,” Jesper hums, stretching his casually. 

I sigh once, but it lacks any bite. “I do not.” 

He smiles easily, tilting his head so far to the side that it falls against the back of the seat, “No...but I know the real reason you’re grumpy.” 

Rolling my eyes, I suppress my instinctual reaction. That would only expose his words as true. “I am not grumpy, there is no reason--” 

“You know he hated it.” 

I exhale, tired and slowly losing my fragine hold on fake tranquility. “Yeah.” That should make it  better. “I know.” It doesn’t--it doesn’t make anything better. 

So the contact we so desperately needed on our side took to flirting with Kaz. It was an uncomfortable situation because of its precariousness and I was worried because I know about his issues with touch. But it’s not like I care about the flirting part. No. It was unprofessional and so easily turned messy--that’s what my problem was.

Jesper sighs, stretching even more. I let him stretch his legs over me, too tired to push him off. I sigh, setting my chin on his bent knees. “What’s with the face, l/n?” 

I roll my eyes again. Sometimes having someone care about you is annoying. I take back all of my positive thoughts about him--Jesper Fahey is an annoying drunk. 

“There’s no face,” despite my words, I feel my expression sour even further. Jesper’s expression shifts from that of gentle worry to teasing pride. “And if there was one, it wouldn’t be because of Kaz Brekker.”

Jesper’s lips twitch upwards, something strange tainting his tipsy grin. “I never said a name.” 

“One more condescending comment, and I’m shoving you off this damn couch.” 

He laughs flatly, shifting closer and making himself more comfortable. Drunk and touchy--anyone else would have been slapped by now. “You’re nicer after some of this.” 

He holds his glass out towards me casually, amber liquid sloshing slightly. I blink at the liquid with slight disinterest. I’m not exactly in the drinking mood...but I’m not exactly in the mood for any of this. The sound of the door opening doesn’t phase me--it’s not Inej, because she never lets herself be heard. Kaz doesn’t say anything, taking one dull step and then another, footsteps leaching the room of any warmth. The coldness he exudes so easily as a mask is strong tonight, I haven’t even looked at him and I can feel it. 

Maybe I do need a drink. 

I take the glass from Jesper, taking a quick and shallow sip of the liquid. It’s offensive in smell, taste, and the way it spills down my throat. The taste is much more intense than expected, some of the liquid slips past the corner of my mouth. Somehow more bitter than this moment, the liquid leaves me ready to splutter like a child. I exhale, pushing through the burning. Jesper moves his hand forward absentmindedly, wiping a single drop of liquid from my chin carelessly. The gesture would be sweet if my throat burned less. 

“Jesper,” the warmth of the alcohol takes root in my chest, “That’s--” He laughs at my reaction, coaxing a smile from me. “Like literally the worst--why do you even have this?” If this is served in the Crow Club, I’ve never heard of it, this is the kind of under the counter alcohol that isn’t mass produced. 

He laughs a little more freely. “Won it off of someone passing through--I don’t always lose.” 

I wrinkle my nose, “An outlier shouldn’t be--” 

“Oh, shut up.” Jesper laughs again. 

“Both of you ‘shut up’,” Kaz sighs, stepping further into the room, “If you need to drink, at least wait until after my meeting.” I frown, ignoring Kaz’s lingering and sharp gaze, “You should all follow Inej’s example.” 

“We can’t even see Inej.” 

Kaz raises an eyebrow, but he regards me with nothing but voidness. He’s never exactly emotive, but normally in moments like this something I can never interpret touches his expression, coloring it human. “Exactly.” 

“You’re funnier than people give you credit for.” The comment isn’t exactly sarcastic, but it’s something lighter than I should be offering. It’s an attempt at peace, the slight stiffness between us is starting to bother me. Our usual dynamic isn’t exactly friendly, but it’s more than this. Kaz glares. “But not tonight.” 

His expression hardens. “Business is business. It’s not humor, it’s not whatever you try to make it.” Right. Just like it was business when that girl spent more time hitting on him than actually revealing real information. The thought leaves my expression tight as I swallow back my instinctual words. “It’s not whatever you’re currently doing.” 

It takes me longer than it should to realize he’s referring to the position Jesper and I are in. Can he relax? It’s not my fault Jesper is tipsy and touchy. 

“Kaz,” Inej’s voice is soft yet determined as she emerges from the shadows. It’s a miracle the way she’s nothing more than a shadow until she chooses not to be. “What’s our next job?” 

Prompting Kaz in order to prevent a fight--Inej, always the closest thing to a mom available. I give her a partial smile, glad that she’s wedging herself between us and the tension, preventing conflict I’m too tired to follow through on.

“A merchant’s house,” he begins slowly, “We’ll be searching a merchant’s house but I’m seeking evidence more than property.” Jesper swings his legs off the couch with no warning. My head falls. I glare at Jesper who offers me a slightly apologetic tsk before dropping his head on my shoulder. Kaz must note the exchange because something in his expression tightens. He’s extra irritable today. “I’ll disclose more tomorrow,” he sighs once, already turning away, “Most of you are beyond listening tonight anyways.” 

He’s at the door before I can tell him that I’m not drunk. The door opens and closes, but Kaz’s heaviness lingers like led. I frown, letting my head fall to the side, resting on Jesper’s.

“He’s weird today,” I mumble, unsure if I want a reply. 

“He’s always like that,” Jesper breathes, “You’re losing your novelty, y/n--he always learns to harden himself against anything bright.” 

The words leave me even more tired. “I don’t think I’m particularly bright.” 

“Kaz does,” Inej replies, “And it has nothing to do with ‘novelty’, Jesper’s just cynical when he drinks.” I don’t know if I believe her, but I like knowing that Inej thinks that. “And Kaz can’t harden himself against you, and he hates that.” 

I press my lips together, straightening my spine. “I’m not that great, and whatever Kaz does or doesn’t harden himself against doesn’t affect me at all.” My nails press into the plush seat. “I don’t even know why we’re talking about this because whatever he does or doesn’t feel doesn’t matter to me.” I force myself up, doing all I can to seem perfectly calm. “All I care about is going to bed.”

Turning my head, I start to approach the door. Kaz has been strangely cold all night, and while I’m used to his moods, he hasn’t exactly directed them at me so fully since the day he caught me waiting for him to wake up after he almost died. If he wants to go back to how it used to be, then it can. Maybe I’ll care in the morning, when the growing weight of my eyelids is no longer a distraction.

“Sometimes the two of you confuse me,” Inej begins, “And sometimes I see you try to deal with emotion and I see the common ground.” 

The words leave me cold. I don’t think being compared to Kaz is an insult, not when there’s so much it could mean. He’s much more complex than he wants to be. There is goodness within him, gilding the parts of him that are more shards than anything else.  

I exhale, refusing to turn. Inej is too observant for her own good. “There is no emotion.” 

“I’m not going to waste my time arguing over that because I know it’s a waste of time.” She pauses and I consider turning around in hopes of reading something less honest from her expression. “I’m just telling you as a friend that one of you needs to be mature and talk to the other tonight before the tension gets worse and that it’s not going to be him.” 

She’s right. I exhale, “Do you think I should let him go?” Even just saying that leaves my heart aching. I know instantly that that’s not what I want, but it might be what he wants--it might be the best option. I might have the strength to let him go if I work at it. “I don’t--that’s not what I want and I’m not sure I could, but maybe that’s selfish of me.” 

“Y/n.” I turn slowly, but I purposefully avoid her gaze, keeping my head down. “I know that I’ve known Kaz longer than you, and I know that when he’s getting along with you he’s,” she trails off, uncertain, “More him, in a good way.” 

My heart swells, and with that comes feelings of panic. I never wanted to change him--to make him better or worse or anything; all I’ve ever wanted is to know him and to maybe help him with his burden. And to hear that maybe I’ve done that from someone so close to him--someone so observant and aware. That’s everything. And that terrifies me. Nothing good can last; nothing that seems to be all you could ever want actually is. I know that from life before the Crows, before I ran away from the castle I called home.

“I think he does the same for you.” I’ve never really thought about Kaz’s effect on me outside of the fact that he makes me feel warm in small moments and painfully seen in large ones. 

I smile because she’s trying and she’s given me something. “I’d say I’d tell you when I make my decision, but something tells me you’ll know.” 

She nods, expression shifting to something kind. “Goodnight, y/n.” 

Jesper stretches out on the couch, settling himself comfortably, “Night, y/n.”

“Goodnight, guys.” I disappear past the door easily, heading towards my room.

I haven’t decided whether or not I’m going to look for Kaz tonight. How much damage could be done in one night? Maybe he needs space. Maybe seeking him out now will make things worse. I exhale, opening the door to my room easily. I’ll decide before going to sleep.

When I step into the room, everything is in place. Everything is fine--but something about it feels off. The light is on. I didn’t leave the light on. Nothing else raises any red flags, so I continue into the room calmly, examining everything carefully. Nothing feels out of place as I further enter the room. I take in my bed, my dresser, and lastly my nightstand. 

My heart swells all over again, but this time it feels even heavier than before. On the center of my nightstand, in perfect condition, is a copy of Pride and Prejudice. The same book I told Kaz about, the one thing besides clothing I took from the palace. I told him it was my mother’s favorite and then he asked me to read it to him. 

I can’t picture him seeing this and thinking of me. I can’t picture him thinking of me--but no one else knew about my attachment to the book. I need to find him. I need to--to see him, to speak to him. To look him in the eye and see something I only ever see when we’re alone. Maybe he won’t have that look this time, but that’s okay. 

I can’t expect to always understand him, but that does not mean I don’t know him. 

The thought leaves me feeling a little more settled within the boundaries of my skin, but I don’t ease entirely. The good is more frightening than the bad. My fear of happiness is a benign secret I haven’t had to worry about in years. I don’t know enough about it to know how to deal with it let alone mention it to Kaz. Not that it’s his problem. 

I squeeze the book to my stomach. Swallowing pride is a difficult thing, but I’m used to it with him. It’s usually worth it with Kaz because sometimes when I try he tries in his own way. I should find him. He’s not awfully creative about where he goes when he wants to be alone because people know better than to bother him. Kaz is probably in his attic or getting air outside or…

The lights were on when I came in. I’m an idiot. I didn’t feel weird when I walked into the room because of the book. Someone’s in here. He’s in here. 

Setting the book down like I should have never touched it, I let out a sigh. “Lurking is unbecoming.” 

“It’s also unbecoming to work for me and be so easily distracted by a book.” His voice reveals nothing as he emerges from the shadows. “I could have killed you with how long it took for you to notice my presence.” He pauses, eyebrows drawing together. “The light was on.” 

Normally I’d have some kind of comment, some kind of joke that offers a more peaceful situation. “I know.” It’s a flat response. “I think on some subconscious level I knew,” I drop my gaze away from him, “I knew I was okay.” That sounds dumb. “I mean...I think I knew it was you so I knew I was okay.” Yeah, that wasn’t anymore eloquent. “That doesn’t make sense, but if you get to be confusing, I do too.”

“Confusing? There’s nothing to understand.” Curt. Simple. Dismissive. 

I frown. ‘Nothing to understand’. Right, because there’s nothing confusing about how quickly he decided to dismiss me just to bring me some obscenely sentimental gift. “If you’re mad at me, you should at least tell me why.” I press my lips together. “At least that way I’ll know if I need to apologize or kick your ass.” 

At that, he presses his lips together, corner of his mouth threatening to tilt upwards. “You would kick my ass?”

Great, even when he’s easing he has to be annoying. “I could.” There is no universe in which I could take him in a physical fight. “On a good day.” I let out a breath, doing all I can to not focus on his expression. Awkwardness settles in my chest as my eyes land on my bed. I sit down, trying not to let my shoulders slump tiredly as I stretch my legs across my bed. “You’re not having a good day.” 

“My day is fine, I’m just not naively cheerful like you,” his words turn sharp, “Or Jesper.” 

Weird addition. “Jesper’s not cheerful, he’s just drunk.” I let go of the ‘naive’ part, deciding to focus on the bigger picture. “And I’m not as naive or joyful as you think I am.” I’m not sure if I mean that as a rebuttal or just a fact. “I have bad days too.” This isn’t the kind of conversation I should have while this tired. “I could be less cheerful if you’d like.” 

He’s so silent I momentarily wonder if he’s left. “No.” It’s not much, but I take it. Straightening my back, I pull my legs beneath me, intentionally creating space. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Ah, blatant rejection. It would sting if I was less in the right. “Maybe you’ll be less weird then.” 

“I am not being weird.” At least I’m getting some kind of reaction from him. “You’re the one who--” 

“Who what?” Finally--progress. 

Kaz sighs, turning slightly. “You’re the one who decided to ignore me after we met with the contact.” I part my lips, ready to retort, but no words come. He did pick up on my slight annoyance, and he reciprocated it in a much larger way. 

He can never know that this all came from some ridiculous, territorial--partial jealousy. “I didn’t mean to ignore you,” partial lie, “I’m just kind of in a weird place today, I’m tired.” 

“Not too tired for Jesper, it seems.” 

What? Is that what this is about? “What? All I did was sit there--he’s a touchy drunk and I just happened to be next to him.” 

“You laugh with him,” he says this blankly, “You can touch him.” 

The edge of unsafe territory cuts into me at an odd angle. Is this about him? Is he really tormenting himself over something so asinine to me when it comes to him? I’d rather have him than all the physical touch in the world. The book on the nightstand feels closer to me, growing by the prospect of its significance alone. That gesture, that’s more intimate than anything Jesper and I did downstairs. 

“So?” I straighten my back slightly. “It doesn’t mean anything.” 

He presses his lips together. “That’s the problem--anyone can manage meaningless contact…” The silence is louder than the words that came before it. Oh. I guess I’m not the only one who gets just a little jealous in an unwarranted way. “What if you were hurt? What if you were hurt and we were alone and you needed someone to help you and I couldn’t?” He lets out a sigh, a sound too tired for me to associate with him. “You say you don’t care now, but you’ll grow tired of it--the only life I can offer.” 

Inej’s words about the similarities between Kaz and I echo in my mind. “Sometimes I don’t like when things are going well because I don’t know how to be truly content, fully happy.” Saying this twists my stomach. “I don’t know how to trust good things, so whenever there are good things I think about all the ways I could ruin something and then I do.” I take a breath. “I’m not saying that things are particularly good for you or that you’re happy, but I am saying that maybe you shouldn’t think three steps ahead when there’s nothing to think ahead about.” I regard his expression carefully, but nothing has changed. “I told you the only thing I want is to know you, and that’s not going to change.”

“Y/n,” his voice is low, “I am not rain--I can’t promise you anything.” 

I scratch my knee, dropping my gaze. “For once I don’t want rain.” 

Kaz sighs. “Get some sleep.” Something about the way he’s speaking is authoritative but it lacks any weight. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

I frown freely, “Kaz--” 

“You look tired,” he mumbles, “You need rest.” He’s using this as an excuse to escape his feelings, but he’s already given me more than I expected. Greed ruins things, but then again, so does selflessness. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“For the job?”

Something strange crosses his features as his expression teeters on shifting. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he repeats, a little more certain.

The response doesn’t satiate me. “Kaz--” 

“I may not be the rain, but I’m capable of making promises as well.” There’s something final about the way he says this, but it doesn’t feel cruel. 

Maybe I’d protest if my eyelids were less weighted. “Goodnight, Kaz.” 

My head falls against the pillow. I’m not sure if he replies, too lost in the drawl of sleep before he can even close the door. 

--

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

[angelofsmalldeathandthecodeine]

Disasters and Detentions

Request: “Hi! Can i please request A fred weasley x reader (I love my boy fred lol). With the angst prompt 16 and fluff prompt 12 and 9 please? Tyty i love your writing!”

(”Why do you care?”/”Oh my God! you’re in love with him”/”God, you’re so fucking cute”

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word count: 1.9k (I got excited or whateva)

A/N: These were suchhh cute prompts to work with, I really love writing the twins in a school enviroment it gives me good vibes :) ALSO this is so long but like I said before, the twins x fluff = a dream.

The Triwizard tournament was all anyone had been talking about recently, and while you could admit it was an exciting year for Hogwarts with the Yule Ball too, you couldn’t help but get tired of everyone’s eagerness – even those too young to participate.

You sat with your friend Hermione, completing work, and simultaneously watching as students in their sixth and seventh year entered their names into the goblet, each time admiring the flicker of the sapphire blue flame.

“Isn’t he dreamy” Hermione commented, gazing at Cedric Diggory who had just placed his name into the Goblet, receiving a warm welcoming from the inferno, indicating acceptance.

“I guess” you said, looking up towards harry noticing he had the exact same grin on his face as yourself. You both knew exactly what Hermione was trying to do and by the looks of Ron it had worked.

You understood why all the girls would swoon over the older, prince charming-like Cedric, but you had someone different in your thoughts…. much different.

Suddenly the room was filled with clapping and cheering as if Gryffindor had just won the Quidditch Cup.

“YESSS” you heard the raspy laughs of what could only be Fred and George, running into the hall with a test tube each. The way the light hit Fred’s copper hair as he ran towards the goblet had caught you in a trance. His Hazel eyes, his bright smile and pale complexion… it was all you could focus on.

Suddenly you were met with a hand being waved across your face which disrupted your line of sight and snapped you back into reality.

“What on earth has gotten into you” Hermione asked, with a puzzled expression on her face.

“uh, nothing just tired” you replied in an attempt to draw as little attention as possible to what was actually distracting you.

“Well lads, we’ve done it” George announced to the mass of applause “cooked it up just this morning”, as soon as you heard Fred’s voice you couldn’t help but swoon at the sound, gaining another weird look from Hermione.

“It’s not going to work” Hermione sung, in a rather condescending manner.

Before you knew it, you were inches away from Fred, who had accompanied his brother in lowering himself to yours and Hermione’s level.

“Oh yeah?” Fred asked, patronisingly back whilst leaning an arm on your shoulder. You weren’t sure what to do in that moment other than freeze and try not to make any eye contact. You could feel your palms get sweatier by the second and your breathing start to increase at a stupidly rapid rate.

“And why’s that Granger?” George then asked, with sole focus on beating Hermione in this sort of battle of ‘who’s right’.

Strangely you thought could feel Fred’s eyes, looking you up and down, which only caused your body to tense up even more than it was before.

You zoned out completely every word that Hermione spoke, only being able to pay attention to the arm that rested on your shoulder and the lips that were inches away from your face.

“Ah but that’s why it’s so brilliant” Fred said, this time you had gained some confidence to look slightly in his way to which you were then face to face with his mischievous grin.

“Because it’s so pathetically dim-witted” George over emphasised in Hermione’s scolding face, causing you to giggle like a schoolgirl.

God, how pathetically dim-witted of you.

Fred and George looked at each other before rising to their naturally giant-like height in high spirits of just winning an argument against Hermione Granger.

Whilst putting a thumb over the test tubes to shake them you couldn’t help but kind of worry about Fred. It was such a strange feeling, you knew how much of a prankster both him and his twin were, but the potion was dangerous, and not nearly as dangerous as if they managed to enter the tournament itself.

“I hope he’s alright” you accidentally mumbled under your breath, causing a slightly aggravated Hermione to snap back.

“What, Fred? Why do you care?” she replied, meeting your gaze focusing on Fred.

There was silence for what seemed like forever, you didn’t know what to say and didn’t want to make it obvious, “I don’t I just, uh, I made one of those potions myself at home, nasty things” you settled with.

Yet, you were forgetting who exactly you were talking to, they don’t call her the brightest witch for her age for no reason. Hermione looked at you, who then looked at Fred, who seemed to be looking in your direction and suddenly the light bulb inside her turned on.

“Oh my God! You’re in love with him!” Hermione gasped, giggling in the process.

“Shh Hermione!” you attempted to reduce the chances of anyone hearing the truth, especially that of Fred.

“Ready Fred?”

“Ready George”

“Bottoms up” the twins sang in unison which helped distract Hermione from the information that she had just heard. Fred and George proceeded to jump into the ring of fire that guarded the Goblet, letting out a very confident “Yesss” that got the crowd going once more.

Putting their names in the fire seemed to actually work, gaining a repeated and very smug “Yeahhh” from both the twins – yet there’s one thing you had learnt during your time at Hogwarts, and it was that Hermione was always right.

Instantaneously there was a flash of blue light and before you knew it both the twins were rolling around on the floor with white beards, rather resembling Dumbledore himself.

You couldn’t help but really belly laugh at their stupidity as the crowd chanted “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

“Detention! The both of you!” McGonagall’s voice went straight though you, yet you continued to laugh at the twins’ misfortune as she attempted to separate them.

“And I suppose you find this funny miss Y/L/N” McGonagall’s eye caught your line of sight, “then I shall see you in detention with these two buffoons”

You groaned at the thought, which seemed to only antagonise her further “Oh and since the three of you are in Gryffindor, 10 points from Gryffindor” she spoke in a high tone, which earned a groan from the majority of the room.

 \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Later that day you had found yourself in the detention hall with both Fred and George, alongside a few other misbehaving students. Don’t get me wrong, you had sat through your fair share of detentions, it was just that this year you had promised yourself that you would try and reduce the amount of time you had to spend with Professor Snape.

After what felt like an eternity, Snape put his head down to mark some work and you felt like you could finally breathe.

A paper bird landed onto your desk, bringing you back into the real world.

The note simply read:

‘I’m sorry for getting you into trouble’

You turned around discreetly to be met by Fred, who gave you a gentle smile, and in turn you were holding in quite possibly the biggest smile you have ever had before.

“God, you’re so fucking cute” you mumbled to yourself whilst reading the note, but before you knew it Fred’s message started to disappear, and the ink began to write the last words you spoke.

Of course, Fred had used magical ink. “oh no no no” you began to panic quietly, frantically trying to think of a spell that would erase the words on the note. Yet, your anxious mind only hindered your time and the note began to transform into a paper bird and fly behind you towards Fred’s seat.

You started to sink into yours, literally face palming at the thought of Fred reading those words. You were so embarrassed that right then and there you had sworn you just wouldn’t open your mouth for the rest of the year.

Since you hadn’t got another note back and you hadn’t turned around to check, you prayed that the paper bird had just got lost on the way back to him.

Once detention had finished you collected your books and rushed out of Snape’s classroom, faster than you ever had before.

“Oi! Y/N! where you off too?” Fred’s voice unexpectedly called after you, causing you to freeze in your tracks.

“Just uh, the common room” you replied without looking back to face him, maybe everything was alright after all, and maybe Fred really hadn’t seen your note.

“Great, I’ll walk you”, you heard Fred’s footsteps get closer and closer to you, before finally gaining the courage to face him in hopes of his cluelessness.

“Oh by the way, this is for you” Fred opened his two hands to reveal a paper bird, pecking at his palm, “couldn’t have gave it to you back then of course, Snape was watching me like a hawk” he laughed before allowing the bird to flutter into your hands.

Your heart sank at the thought of opening the note, with a sick feeling in your stomach.

‘Y/N,

I had no idea you felt that way, but in that case… You’re way cuter’

You giggled slightly, feeling a sense of relief yet still feeling extremely anxious. Fred Weasley thought you were cute. You couldn’t believe it.

Finally looking up from the note, you noticed Fred’s hazel eyes staring longingly into your own, and you couldn’t look away.

You watched as he lifted his hand to your cheek, pushing back the hair that draped slightly over your face. The brush of his fingers on your skin felt so soft and warm, yet your gaze remained. In that moment you felt no sickness, no heart sinking, and no anxiety… just butterflies in your stomach and a sense of serenity.

“Is this okay?” Fred asked, and with one nod from you he began to lean in closer, causing you to slowly press onto your tip toes to make his job a little easier. This time he lifted his right hand to cup your face completely.

Upon instinct you closed your eyes, feeling your face be lifted towards his. You could feel the warmth of Fred’s breath grow closer, placing your hands on his lower torso where they would naturally reach.

The moment was perfect, and without a second thought your lips met Fred’s in a soft exchange. The initial kiss allowed you to linger for a moment, digesting the feeling of not only his face against yours but his fingers entwined in your hair.

Your lips were left cold but sweet as you breathed into Fred, causing him to place a second kiss on your lips returning the warmth you had just felt. This time you felt the corners of Fred’s mouth curl into a smile which made you do the same.

Pulling away slightly and starting to land on the heels of your feet you began to open your eyes slightly, seeing Fred’s adorable smile with his eyes closed. He began to pull you up again ever so slightly, eyes still closed.

“Hang on, just one more” he seemed in a trance, and giggling you put your hands around his neck to which he lifted you gently. The third kiss was as good as the first and second, and with that you were placed onto the ground, spiritually and physically.

You and Fred giggled at each other when finally opening both your eyes to see each other again. You felt Fred’s hand snake down your arm to meet your own hand, locking his fingers between yours.

You looked down at the floor and bit your lip at the afterthought of the moment, gripping Fred’s hand tightly as he let out a heavy breath.

“I bloody love detention” Fred announced as you walked hand in hand towards the common room, giggling.

[wolf-queer-discourse]

Adventures in Aphobia #3

My last two Adventures in Aphobia both took on similar flavors of eye-rolling at shameless, obvious bigotry to anyone willing to look or care. But today, I found a different type of aphobia, and I’m actually eager to talk about this one. Have a read of this first.

Look, the bar of respect for ace people is so low it’s all the way in hell, but I mean, to many people, especially allosexual people, they may look at this post and think, “No, this isn’t aphobia. The poster wasn’t blatantly cruel.” But what some fail to realize is that politeness can be the thinnest of veils over the ugliest of takes. Polite bigotry gaslights the victims into thinking they can’t be upset about this.

So what’s the deal with this post?

PARAGRAPH #1 starts off innocently enough, saying ace discourse wouldn’t exist if people recognized complex relationships to sex and relationships. Even taken on its own, I do not agree with this. Ace discourse ranges all the way from outright denial of asexual existence to the strong hatred for and exclusion of aces from the queer community. Nearly everyone recognizes people have complex relationships to sex...that...that doesn’t mean ace people won’t be discriminated against. In fact, it’s an argument aphobes use constantly to try and gaslight ace people into erasing themselves. Ace discourse comes from a lot of places, but at the end of the day, it all stems from people’s refusal to acknowledge ace people and their unique experiences. This poster absolutely does not get to say “IT’s CoMpLicAteD”, and expect ace people to just disappear. Honestly, it’d be better and more honest if they said “Lol, ace people should go fuck themselves and hop to the back of the line with everyone else.”

PARAGRAPH #2 and #3 are not very objectionable on their own. Everything said is true. Society has very complicated views on sex, and life happens to all people. The ugly part of this is that the poster is setting up an argument here in which they will hand wave ace people into the “everyone else” crowd and pretend as if we’re all just too similar and no labels should even exist.

This is literally what enby-phobes do. They say “Well, gender is COMPLICATED”, which is true, but then they say “So like...aren’t we all really nonbinary when we think about it? Why should enby people label themselves?” I swear we’ve all seen this. The poster is agender. This argument could easily be whipped in their face. Different forms of bigotry can share very clear overlaps, and it’s very important to acknowledge where these arguments come from and why they exist. It exists as a way to shut people up. It happens to bi people too! Every day, people come out as bi and someone tells them “pff, everyone thinks girls are hot. I had a crush on my best friend once, that doesn’t mean I’m not straight! All people are like this!” Let’s call out this erasure where we see it. It’s not the same thing, and if anyone saying stuff like this truly believes what they’re saying, maybe they’re the ones who need to reevaluate their own identity.

PARAGRAPH #4 dips its ugly toes straight into blatant aphobia, having the gall to call ace and aro people “obsessed” with pretending their relationships with sex and romance are wholly unique and different. Nah, fuck right off with that bullshit. The poster even goes on to say ace people have created entire new social classes. Uh...WHAT? Is there some secret ace society with a caste system living in the shadows?? What is this person talking about?? I suppose you can’t be a true bigot unless you have some vague grievance to weakly hand-gesture at that you couldn’t prove given 20 years to do so. For the love of my sanity, just say you hate ace people! It’s okay! (I mean, not actually, but Jesus Christ does it save us all some time). They also say things like “somehow excluded from”. Replace asexual people with nonbinary people and take a joyride through this section, because the arguments are scarily similar. What would it take for this poster to acknowledge ace and aro people have their own experiences? Seriously, what? What holds you back from doing this?

It’s also funny to note the actual lack of substance to this argument. The poster is not giving any specific examples or even bringing up what being ace and aro mean. Yes, there is a pretty noticeable difference between feeling sexual attraction and not feeling sexual attraction. How many “allo” people do you know that say they’ve NEVER experienced this? Come on. The poster reduces asexuality and aromanticism down to allo people’s, in their own words, hyper-specific contexts where they don’t want sex or love. At least the poster admits any circumstance that allo people are comparable to ace people are extremely specific. But for real, are we hinging a whole argument on a few very specific examples of allo people having some similarity to ace people?

“Nothing about your relationship to sex or love makes you more or less LGBT. If you are gay and don’t want to have sex, ever, you are still gay. “

Mini strawman alert for the idea any ace person thinks you’re less gay if you’re also ace. And bonus points for an aphobe who refuses to use the definition of asexuality: not experiencing sexual attraction, and instead goes for “don’t want to have sex”. For the last. Fucking. Time. Not wanting to have sex and being asexual are NOT the same. Don’t make me pour gasoline in my eyes every time I see this.

After this, the poster goes on a tangent, which by the tone, seems to think it's very inspiring, and says no matter how you want to have sex (including only certain days of the week), you’re still straight! It’s so fucking condescending and gross to talk ace people out of their own identity like this.

“EVERY person who is heterosexual is different in how they perform or experience.”

Oh. My. GOD. THEY DIDN’T EVEN SAY STRAIGHT. THEY SAID HETEROSEXUAL. WUGGYUEGYUG. God help me. Can one be both bisexual and heterosexual? No…? Okay. So then. How is one both asexual AND heterosexual? What single brain cell in this poster’s head was responsible for this Chad of a sentence? I—

*deep breath* 

So. It’s interesting how the poster says “perform or experience it”. Asexuality is an identity. It is not a performance, and it is not defined by your actions. A straight person not having sex does not become asexual. And sure...people with the same label can experience their sexuality differently, but...to a point, guys. You can’t experience your sexuality out of the DEFINITION of the label. Heterosexual: Sexual attraction to the opposite gender. Asexual: Sexual attraction to no one. If a “heterosexual” isn’t sexually attracted to anyone, they are by definition, not heterosexual. It takes insane mental gymnastics to make this argument, so A for flexibility, I guess? 

“Gayness, straightness, and bisexuality are not defined by HOW you do or don’t want sex or HOW you do or don’t want to date, it’s just defined by WHO you want to be with.”

The first part of the sentence is correct, but it also defeats this person’s entire argument. Ace people AGREE with this. Being asexual is not the act of not having sex!! It’s not experiencing sexual attraction! You can google this! The second part of the sentence is mostly correct, depending on your interpretation. The issue is in part with the words the poster used: gayness, straightness and bisexuality. These words are not all equivalents. Gay could refer to sexual and or romantic orientation. Thus an ace gay person. Straightness is not actually an equal word to gayness. This is because straight is an exclusive term for a normative sexuality (in society’s eyes) in terms of sexual and romantic attraction. Some ace people DO call themselves straight, though it’s inaccurate. Ace people can be heteroromantic, but because being straight is so exclusive, you need to be both sexually AND romantically attracted to only the opposite gender.

The post basically ends telling ace people they’re all actually straight and were just confused the whole time. Lovely. And an erasure of gay aces too! Believe it or not, gay ace people do not like having their ace identities erased. Who’d have guessed?

Honestly, if anything this post is just kind of sad. A sad reflection of what people believe and how they truly do not see their own bigotry. They believe they’re freeing ace people from an incorrect label. They’re the heroes.

They’ll say “it’s okay, you’re not asexual” as if they've like...lifted a burden off of ace people. Like, “Oh, you think I’m not asexual? Cool, cool. Glad you cleared that up for me!” It’s sad how aphobes think, some very genuinely, that asexuality is just some high school party that went off the rails, and we’re all just coming out of the drunken haze, ready to go home. Ready to all laugh about it later, tease one another about how wild and silly it all was. 

Having your identity erased like this is fucking horrible, and I hope people like this can take a look in the mirror and see themselves clearly. All ace and aro people have a right to their identity, whether gay, bi, heteroromantic or anything else. End of story.

[swan-of-sunrise]

Specs and the Flyboy (Chapter Nineteen-Part Three)

Summary: (Y/N), Jack and their friends finally face off against Leviathan and the Secret Empire.

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers:  None

A/N: Ya girl wrote this while dealing with sleep deprivation, cramps and the after effects of the vaccine, so I hope it’s good ‘cause at this point I can’t even tell lol Thank you all so much for reading! I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Nineteen (Part III) Leviathan’s Weapons Facility, Lithuanian Soviet Socialist Republic (Previous Chapter)

While the two of them were ushered down the staircase that led into the crate-filled warehouse by Michael and Dottie, (Y/N)’s mind raced as she struggled to think of a way out of their current conundrum. I’ve been in plenty of tough scrapes before but even I’ll admit that this one’s the toughest one yet, she thought to herself, her eyes rapidly scanning the large room; there were large, frost-covered windows towards the ceiling, several boarded-up skylights and the two metal doors she spotted were both guarded by Leviathan soldiers. By the time they reached the base of the stairs, (Y/N) had counted a total of twenty armed enemy operatives – seventeen Leviathan guards, Attwell, Underwood and Michael Carter – and from the brief glimpse she’d gotten of their friends hidden behind a stack of crates, it looked as though both Pinkerton and Sawyer were badly injured and the others were trying to bandage their blood-soaked wounds. So, we’re out-gunned and out-numbered, she concluded with a sinking feeling as she bit her lip in worry.

“So, Chief Thompson did survive his daring escape!” Attwell grinned, walking out into the empty space amidst the crates and standing before the two of them. “Truth be told, I was hoping that we’d meet again; I detest leaving loose ends, and killing the SSR’s golden boy once and for all would’ve been a genuine pleasure.”

Beside (Y/N), Jack’s shoulders tensed but he tilted his head to the side in mock contemplation. “What, you couldn’t do it without your Leviathan goons backing you up? What a real tough guy.”

Attwell’s fist quickly connected with Jack’s stomach and when he doubled over in pain, the man struck him across the face and sent him sprawling to the ground. “Stop it!” (Y/N) started towards her partner but the sudden feeling of a pistol barrel against the back of her neck stopped her cold; tearing her eyes away from Jack, she met Attwell’s gaze and struggled to keep her voice steady as she spoke, “He’s not the one who’s screwing up your deal with Leviathan, I am.”

“Of course, of course, the infamous codebreaker.” Attwell stepped closer but she held her ground, raising her chin in defiance and refusing to look away despite how uncomfortable his stare made her feel. After a tension-filled moment, his face broke out into a stomach-churning smirk. “It’s a shame that such promising talent’s being squandered by the SSR, by those who dismiss and condescend you at every turn. I was very much like you before joining Hydra; I was overshadowed at Cambridge by my perfect older brother and his two brilliant flatmates; while William, Michael and Adam flourished in their respective fields of study, I floundered and was subsequently expelled but as luck would have it, I was approached by Hydra and offered a chance to unlock my true potential; and here I stand before you, Agent (Y/L/N), to offer you that very-same chance. With the new Leviathan, your immeasurable skills would not only be recognized but they’d also be celebrated. You and Michael could work side-by-side in our efforts to break through as the world’s leading superpower and once we achieve our goal of fully weaponizing Zodiac, Agent (Y/L/N), you’ll have everything you’ve ever truly desired.”

Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) noticed Jack’s hand resting on his waist and while Attwell talked, her partner’s index finger had tapped away. It only took her seconds to realize he was sending out a message in Morse Code on the walkie-talkie still clipped onto his belt and once she did, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

“You know, it’s a good thing you’re decent at codebreaking, Specs, ‘cause you’d make a pretty shit spy. You fidget too much.”

If Jack can think up an off-the-cuff plan to get us out of this mess then I can buy us all a little time by being a good spy, she thought with resolve just as Attwell finished up his speech. Taking a page out of her partner’s book, (Y/N) raised an incredulous brow at the man as the corner of her mouth curled into a humorless smile. “There was a time when I would’ve given just about anything for people to recognize me and my skills, to appreciate just how hard I’ve worked to get where I am today. But then I grew up and realized that the only person whose appreciation I needed was my own. Mr. Attwell, I don’t need to be celebrated or appreciated by anyone, but especially not by a pathetic imitation of the Red Skull.”

The man’s expression instantly grew cold at the comparison. “Then it would seem that you’re of no use to us.” His gaze shifted to look at whoever was holding her at gunpoint and he nodded. “Shoot her, Michael.”

“Stop!” All of them looked over just as Peggy jumped out from behind their makeshift barricade with her rifle pointed directly at Attwell. “I’ll give you the key.”

“Peggy, no!” The barrel of the pistol pressed harder into (Y/N)’s neck and she winced in pain. However, her horror was quickly replaced with dawning comprehension when Peggy flashed her a pointed look before briefly glancing in Jack’s direction. She knows about whatever Jack’s planning, she silently realized, playing along with her old friend’s ruse by rearranging her features into a look of righteous indignation.

Moving to stand beside Attwell, Dottie raised the hand that wasn’t holding her rifle and gave the younger woman a small wave. “Hiya, Peggy. You know, you really should’ve listened to me back in New York; I told you there were currencies in the world stronger than money. I practically spelled all of this out for you! But the great Peggy Carter couldn’t figure it all out on her own, so she needed the help of…” Dottie turned to (Y/N) with a frown. “What’re those revolting nicknames you call each-? Oh, never mind, I don’t want to know.” Turning back to Peggy, the spy shrugged. “Well, I suppose not everyone’s perfect, are they?”

“No, they’re certainly not.” Attwell agreed, gesturing with his head for Peggy to lower her weapon and holding out his hand once she’d set it on the ground. “No tricks, Agent Carter. The key, and you and your friends are free to go; it appears that at least one of them is in need of medical attention, so I’d be quick about it if I were you.” When Peggy’s eyes flicked over to where Michael was standing behind (Y/N), Attwell chuckled darkly and shook his head. “No, I don’t think dear old Michael’s going anywhere but by all means, Agent, go ahead and ask him if you don’t believe me.”

For the first time since they were ushered into the warehouse, Peggy looked directly at her older brother. Her hardened expression slipped and for the briefest of moments, (Y/N) recognized the vulnerable young woman she’d known all those years ago at Bletchley Park who mourned her beloved brother’s death. While her lower lip trembled, Peggy finally addressed Michael. “Not too long ago, I had a dream about you and you told me that you’d be right alongside me if you could. I didn’t believe it was possible, even when (Y/N) and Jack told me it was, but now we have a second chance at being a family again. Michael, you can finally come home.” She blinked away her tears and gave him the ghost of an encouraging smile. “Please, Michael, come home with me.”

(Y/N) could feel the pressure on her neck ease up but just as she was beginning to think that Peggy had succeeded in getting through to him, Michael coolly replied, “This is my family, Agent, the only family I have in this world.”

Peggy’s face crumpled as Attwell laughed in amusement. “I told you so! Now, the key for your friends.”

God, I hope that whatever Jack’s planning happens sooner rather than later, (Y/N) silently prayed, sucking in a breath while the younger woman approached Attwell. Once Peggy reached into her pocket and withdrew the familiar Arena Club pin, the man looked over at Dottie and gave her a nod; the spy slung the strap of her rifle over her shoulder and made her way over to one of the many wooden crates near them, kicking the lid off of it and lifting a small metal box out of the loose excelsior. The box looked innocent enough but as Dottie walked it over to Attwell, (Y/N)’s blood ran cold and she knew that the moment Peggy handed over that key, Leviathan would possess one of the world’s deadliest weapons and they’ll have lost.

“Get up, Chief Thompson,” Michael barked and while Jack got to his feet, (Y/N) was roughly pushed towards him. “And you, stand over there with him.”

(Y/N) did as he said, standing beside Jack and keeping her eyes on the scene unfolding before them as she murmured, “You okay?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Peachy-keen.” She watched Dottie hand the metal box over to Attwell, her anxiety steadily building within her while he examined the box’s intricate lock. “Are you going to fill me in on the plan or what?”

The corner of Jack’s mouth curled upwards and he quietly replied, “Patience is a virtue, Specs, just be ready for it.”

“Be ready for wha-?”

Just then as Peggy’s hand stretched out to give Attwell the Arena Club pin, the warehouse wall opposite them exploded. Rubble and splintered pieces of crates flew through the air but before (Y/N) could fully react, gunfire broke out all around them. Amidst the chaos, Jack latched onto (Y/N)’s hand and ran, yanking her behind the nearest tower of crates as bullets whizzed past their heads; both of them crouched on the ground and peeked around the wooden crates, and her eyes widened in amazement at what she saw. The explosion that had knocked down part of the warehouse wall hadn’t been an explosion at all but rather one of the Howlies’ trucks and as (Y/N) watched, Daniel and Henry used the truck’s doors as barriers while they exchanged fire with the Leviathan guards. Moments later, she spotted Peggy dart out from one of the aisles to join her boyfriend behind the open truck door.

“Wa-Hoo!”

Dugan’s deafening war cry from across the warehouse was punctuated by a fresh barrage of gunfire, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but revel at the familiarity of it all; her eyes were suddenly drawn to two men sprinting down the aisle towards her and Jack, and it took her a tense moment to recognize them through all the chaos.

“There you guys are!” Howard exclaimed before ducking down beside them, followed closely by an anxious-looking Edwin Jarvis. Reaching into the satchel that was slung over his shoulders, the inventor withdrew two handguns and offered the weapons to them. “You know, you two’ve got a real habit of gettin’ into trouble…”

Jack rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Says the man who was mind-controlled into almost gassing all of New York last year.” Springing up, he fired off several shots before ducking back down. “How’re we looking, Jarvis?”

“Well, Chief Sousa’s dramatic entrance provided enough of a distraction for Mr. Fieldman to escort Mr. Pinkerton and Mr. Sawyer out the front; their wounds aren’t life-threatening, but Mr. Fieldman promised he’d help treat them once they reach the clearing.” The butler set another satchel on the ground in front of them. “And we’ve brought more guns and ammunition, as per your request.”

“You know, Thompson, you said in your message that you needed a big diversion, but that whole entrance was my idea; I actually took it from one of my studio’s newest scripts, where a gangster steals-”

“Of course, Mr. Stark, your genius knows no bounds.” Edwin hurriedly interrupted the inventor’s rambling, glancing over at (Y/N) with his brow furrowed in worry. “And have you broken Mr. Carter out of his brainwashing? Where is he?”

Looking around the edge of the crate, (Y/N)’s heart dropped when noticed that several important people were missing from the gunfight. “Where the hell did they go, Jack?”

Jack craned his neck to see what she was looking at and swore loudly. “Shit, I-wait, they’re on the stairs!” By the time (Y/N) spotted them, Attwell, Dottie and Michael had reached the top of the stairs and had disappeared around the corner. “Jarvis, stay here with Stark and cover us, then go help the others.” Edwin nodded and her partner turned towards her, his blue eyes scanning her face for any signs of trepidation as he asked, “Are you ready, Specs?”

“As I’ll ever be,” (Y/N) pulled an extra ammunition magazine out of the satchel and tucked it into her pocket before giving Jack a determined nod. “Let’s finish this once and for all, Flyboy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Compared to the chaotic warehouse they’d come from, the rest of the facility was eerily silent and it wasn’t at-all difficult to follow the footsteps of the fleeing trio through the deserted hallways.

“You know that this is probably a trap, right?”

“Naturally.”

“Good. Just wanted to make sure that we’re both on the same page.”

Before (Y/N) could get another word in, a figure she soon recognized as Dottie dropped down from above them and began attacking; the spy kicked the guns out of their hands, ramming her knee into (Y/N)’s stomach and knocking the wind out of her before spinning and using her leg to slam Jack into the wall beside them. (Y/N) took advantage of Dottie’s momentary distraction and aimed a side-kick at her thigh, but the spy merely turned her sharp fall into a somersault; she stood and threw a punch that (Y/N) was quick to duck, and then she grabbed the spy’s extended arm with the intent of wrenching it behind her back. Dottie predicted the move, yanking her arm free only to wrap her hand around her throat and roughly shove her back against the wall.

The back of (Y/N)’s head erupted into a sharp pain while Dottie flashed her a condescending smile. “I already told you, you’re too easy! It’s almost pathetic to see you try so hard to be as good as Peggy.”

“Don’t need to be as good as Peggy,” (Y/N) choked out as the fingers around her throat tightened. “Just…just good enough to keep you distracted.”

Dottie frowned in confusion and that’s when Jack slammed the butt of his gun against the back of her head. The spy tumbled to the ground in an unconscious heap and (Y/N) doubled over, her hands firmly clutching her knees as she coughed and gasped for air. “(Y/N), you okay?” She nodded and allowed Jack to take hold of her shoulders, his soothing encouragements helping her finally regain her breath; once he was sure that she was fine, her partner handed over her dropped gun and rested his hand against the small of her back to urge her forward. “C’mon, let’s go…”

They left the motionless spy behind and continued down the hallway, turning the corner and finding themselves at the entrance of a dimly-lit boiler room. Beside (Y/N), Jack shuddered and she recalled the story he’d told her of the mission he and Peggy had conducted to investigate one of Leviathan’s training facilities; she nudged him with her elbow and gave him a brief smile, wishing that she could offer him more comfort but not wanting to distract them both from their mission. Jack nodded as if to say he was fine, but his shoulders remained tense while he silently gestured for her to go left into the room while he went right.

(Y/N) crept behind the various boilers and pipes, careful not to slip on the slick ground as she did. If I end up surviving all this, I think I’m going to sleep for a week straight, she thought to herself, her heart rate steadily increasing with each step she took. While she edged herself around another heavy piece of industrial furnacing, she found herself trying to think of how to break Michael out of his mind-control long enough to save him; Jack insisted that cognitive re-calibration was the only way but after being present for Peggy and Michael’s reunion, she wondered if reminding him of his past or even recent actions would also do the trick. But a sharp skid noise right behind her made her forget her train of thought and turn, dodging the knife just in time.

“You really should’ve taken my offer, Agent (Y/L/N),” Attwell spat out, slashing at her with the knife again and forcing her to stumble back into the center aisle of the boiler room; the blade sliced against her forearm and she stifled her cry of pain, dropping her gun and leaping out of the way as he aimed for her again. “Soon, you and your foolish friends will be dead and Leviathan will have more power than you could possibly imagine!”

“Don’t you ever get tired of hearing your own damn voice?” (Y/N) retorted, her hand shooting out and twisting the red-colored knob beside them; a pipe next to Attwell spewed out pressurized steam and he let out a shriek of pain as the steam enveloped the right side of his face. Not wanting to stick around, she turned and sprinted further into the vast room, a part of her hoping that she’d bought herself enough time to save Michael. Skidding around a corner, she was immediately met with the sight of Jack and Michael engaged in a vicious fight on the floor; her partner was trying to wrestle something out of the other man’s closed fist, but he was so preoccupied with his task that he didn’t see Michael’s other hand brush the handle of a nearby gun. (Y/N) kicked the gun away from him, pinning his shoulder to the ground with her knee and spoke the first thing that came to mind. “Visions, light, cheered, night, dream!”

As she finished reciting the five words he’d used to encode his final message to Peggy, something shifted in Michael’s dark eyes and his clenched fist relaxed, allowing Jack to snatch the Arena Club pin from him. Before any of them could say or do anything more, a fiery ache erupted along her shoulder blade and she cried out in pain as she pitched forward. “(Y/N)!” Jack looped his arms underneath hers and dragged her over to half-lean against a pipe; her vision was partially clouded by the pain, but she could still make out the bloody knife he’d just pulled out of her upper back and tossed onto the ground beside them. “No, no, don’t look at that, just keep your eyes on me!” He pressed his trembling hand tight against the wound and when she nearly whimpered, he held the side of her face with the other and frantically nodded, his blue eyes steadily filling with panic that he struggled to control. “I-I know it hurts, baby, but I have to keep pressure on it; it’s not very deep, but I can’t have you fainting right now so keep your eyes on me, c’mon-”

“How touching,” Both of them looked up to see Attwell and Michael standing before them, the former with a self-satisfied smirk on his half-seared face and the latter staring stonily down at them. “Let’s make a new deal, Chief Thompson: Give me the key, and I won’t let Agent (Y/L/N) slowly bleed out on the floor of this boiler room.”

“Bastard.” Jack spat back, but his hand left (Y/N)’s face long enough to retrieve the Arena Club pin from his pocket and throw it into Attwell’s waiting hand. “You better start lookin’ over your shoulder now, Attwell, ‘cause I won’t rest until I kill you myself.”

Attwell shrugged and ran his fingers over the pin, twisting it sharply to convert it into a key. “Such fiery attitude in the face of doom was precisely why I was looking forward to killing you. But then I realized, forcing a man like you to live with your mistakes is a far worse punishment than death; and to make this victory sweeter, I plan on unlocking Zodiac in front of you both, so you can see just how spectacularly you failed yourselves, your agency and your country.” He turned to Michael with his brow raised in expectation. “Are you ready to make history, old chap?”

Michael nodded. “Of course…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the metal box containing Zodiac; (Y/N) tried getting up, unwilling to sit back and let Leviathan win, but Jack’s strong arms held her in place against him. When she met his gaze, he gave her a barely-discernible head shake and with her jaw clenched tight, she watched Attwell push the key into the lock and turn it clockwise; the lid popped open and the man breathed a sigh of relief, reaching into the slightly-smoking box and holding an electric-blue colored vial with strange etchings carved into the glass.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? So much potential for war and destruction, and it fits within the palm of my hand.” Attwell looked up at Michael and continued, “My brother never appreciated such things, you know. He never truly appreciated you, either; once you were found out to be a deep-cover spy for the SOE, I saw an opportunity to mold you into the person you were always meant to be. Do you remember the first thing I told you after you came out of Hydra’s operating room?”

Michael’s hardened expression faltered, almost as if he was struggling to control his actions, and in an instant, he drew his gun and shot Attwell directly in the chest. There were tears in his eyes as he finally replied, “‘Michael, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’”

The box and the vial slipped out of the dying man’s hands and as he began to sway dangerously on his feet, (Y/N) lunged forward and caught both in her hands before they could hit the ground. While Attwell’s lifeless body collapsed to the ground in a heap, she and Jack hurriedly placed the deadly Zodiac back into the box and slammed the lid closed; she let out a shaky breath, unable to grasp everything that had just happened. Michael dropped to his knees, tossing his gun to the side and rubbing his head with one hand; still mindful of her now-oozing wound, Jack held her a little closer as they both warily watched the unsteady man turn away from Attwell’s body to look at them. “I-It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Agent (Y/L/N). I’m Michael Carter, SOE.”

A smile slowly stretched across (Y/N)’s face and a sense of relief was beginning to wash over her as a familiar voice called throughout the boiler room. “(Y/N)? Jack?”

“We’re back here, (Y/N) needs some medical attention but we’re okay!” Jack called back, meeting (Y/N)’s gaze and flashing her a lopsided grin. “You’re gonna be fine, Specs, you hear me?” With a relieved chuckle, Jack leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her sweat-covered brow before resting his cheek on the top of her head. “We’re all gonna be fine.”

“Hey!” The first person who rounded the corner was Daniel, whose gun was already at the ready when he pointed it at Michael. “Hey, get the hell away from them!”

Jack held out a placating hand to the chief. “Easy, Danny Boy, he’s good right now; he’s the one who killed Attwell.”

Lowering his gun, Daniel limped over to where they sat against the pipe and knelt down as best he could to examine her knife wound. “Looks like the knife missed everything important, thank goodness. What the hell happened down here?”

Jack detailed everything they’d dealt with after hurrying out of the warehouse as their friends joined them; Edwin began treating her various wounds with Henry’s assistance, Howard carefully stowed the box containing Zodiac and its key into a satchel and Dugan worked on locating a weak point in the wall to blow a quick exit for them. There was a flurry of voices and activity surrounding (Y/N), but all her attention was on Peggy and Michael; they were talking to each other in low tones, Michael looking heartbreakingly unsure and Peggy trying her hardest not to cry, until they both surged forward and hugged one another. For the second time that day, (Y/N) was reminded of Freddie but while she watched the Carter siblings finally reunite, she didn’t feel sadness or envy, but rather pride. She was proud of herself, for having helped stop Leviathan’s plans and for having made-do on her promise to reunite her oldest and dearest friend with her beloved brother. If anyone deserves a second chance at happiness it’s those two, she thought to herself, taking a deep breath and resting her head against Jack’s strong shoulder.

They did it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Only one more chapter left!! Like I said, idk how I feel about this chapter as a whole so I’m sorry if there’s mistakes/it’s bad, but next week’s is gonna be great! Thank you guys so much for reading! If you haven’t checked it out yet, I created a Spotify playlist for this series and it’s linked down below!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21pWY7OiMFj8LaYpxhtVtW

Chapter Twenty

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @fluffymadamina @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @marvel-jackt-loki-buck @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @theserenityspace @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent​ @momc95​ @brooke0297​ @kinda-c0nfused​ @outoftheregular

[whatiwillsay]

submission: we need to talk about ttb (spade-riddles)

Hey Cam. Seeing that ask defending TTB’s doxxing has sort of pushed me to finally share some of my story on Tumblr, I guess. I haven’t had the opportunity to talk about this to anyone fully, so this will probably be long, but I hope you don’t mind me venting.

I’m one of the people that got emailed by TTB. I don’t feel comfortable posting this off anon, but I was in a Discord server with you and @bisluthq and some other people back in Dec/Jan. I don’t know if you remember me, but my name on there was one word and began with an L and ended with an S.

I want to share the full story, but I also don’t feel comfortable with sharing certain details publicly because I’m still very wary of getting outed further by her if she sees this, so I’m gonna be vague about some things

Request to her followers — If you see this, please don’t send this to her. Like I’m genuinely asking you not to because I don’t trust her not to cross any more lines. My dad is a major homophobe with serious anger issues who has literally been arrested for violence before, and she doesn’t really think carefully or maybe even care about how any actions she takes could lead to people being harmed, so I’m not eager to see how she might react.

Anyway, I first got an email back in December, and I was really freaked out by it at first. I spoke to one of my mutuals about it, and although we both agreed it was super weird and invasive and creepy, we ended up trying to see the funny side of it. So, I kinda just brushed it off and moved on. I was mainly just really confused about why I had been targeted because at the time, I thought it was only me who’d gotten an email like that. I didn’t understand why she’d specifically targeted me instead of other people who she clearly disliked a lot more.

About a week later, I saw someone on Tumblr mentioning a strange email, and I realised other people must have gotten them too. I spoke to Nat about what happened to me and ended up in the Discord

At the time, I felt like I’d gotten off really easy comparatively to others because I initially didn’t realise that she’d contacted anyone else. And so I tried to act chill about it because I didn’t want to make things about me, but honestly, I was extremely anxious. I felt on edge for over a week. I would keep checking her blog again and again because I was super worried that she would post our personal details publicly. I scrolled through my entire blog from start to finish and deleted a lot of posts that were either personal or that I just didn’t want anyone I knew in real life to read.

This part I have to be vague about because it would basically give away who I am, but it was only a while later when I thought I was in the clear that someone I knew in real life texted me and mentioned seeing a weird email about me. The email had been sent a while back, and they’d been shown it by the original recipient/s. Multiple people had been shown it, but luckily (kinda), only two of those people were actually people I saw on a regular basis

I’m mostly closeted, but I’m kind of technically out to a few of my immediate family members. But it’s very much a DADT situation because they’re not accepting, and they like to just pretend I’m straight. And so I basically have to act closeted even when I’m around them, and I can’t even ALLUDE to being gay.

But with my dad, it’s different. He’s very homophobic. I’m only gonna mention this next part so that people understand what kind of dangerous situation that TTB could have put me in. (And the other people that she doxxed too because she didn’t know how safe their individual situations were). It’s all really personal, and I wouldn’t ordinarily feel comfortable sharing any of this at all, even anonymously, but I think it needs to be said because her actions were extremely fucking irresponsible.

Right, so when I first “came out” to my dad, it was actually an accident, and he reacted… extremely badly. This was back in like… 2018 or 2019, I can’t remember the exact year

(TW // physical abuse, homophobia)

He was extremely angry, literally shaking. He yelled at me, he described in graphic detail how he was going to “break every bone in my body”, “strangle the life out of me”, “drown me”, etc. He kept telling me that I’m disgusting and going to Hell, you get the idea. He was having a lot of fun with making strangling motions and stabbing motions with his hands, and he kept slamming his hand onto the table. That went on for about 15 minutes, and then he stood up and threw a chair from the dining table at me. That was fun lol. And he punched me in the head pretty hard which kinda knocked me back. I felt dizzy, I had to sit down on the floor. At that point, my mum who had been crying and asking him to stop physically intervened, and he ended up storming out of the house instead. My mum’s a genuinely good person btw. She’s a little homophobic, but she cares about me a lot, and I’m very grateful for her. She hates him too, but she’s kinda stuck with him… It wasn’t her fault

He literally hates gay people. He complains about us on the regular. One time, he threw the remote at the TV and cracked the screen just because there was a gay male couple kissing onscreen. Another time, he threw a rock at a gay man on the street. There was also a time where he forced a few of my siblings (who didn’t want to do it) to throw peeled oranges out of the window at people celebrating pride while he drove past them and yelled insults at them. He found that really funny. Anyway, I’m sure you guys get the idea of what kind of person he is

He hasn’t laid a hand on anybody in several months though, so I do think he’s trying to be better at least. Like he’s still verbally abusive and controlling and awful, but I appreciate that he’s at least making an effort to calm down with the hitting and kicking and stuff

Anyway, with my dad, it’s less DADT and more that I think he’s got it in his head that he managed to scare me into “seeing the error of my ways” and that I’ve “stopped choosing to be gay” and that I’m now straight. So, if it had been HIM who had gotten that email, it would’ve been like… extremely bad. Like I’m getting anxious just thinking about it. And this is why I’m so angry at TTB. It was extremely, extremely irresponsible of her to not consider these kinds of possibilities before she sent out her stupid emails. She’s supposed to be an ally, but it didn’t even cross her mind that these emails would lead to people being outed and possibly even harmed?? It’s not okay at all. I’m just very grateful that she didn’t send one to him because I don’t even know what kind of situation I would be in right now.

Anyway, enough about my fucking awful dad… I feel uncomfortable that I even typed all of that out, but I wanted people to understand how dangerous her actions could have been. Like I mean, my dad’s got PTSD and extreme anger issues from his teenage years, so I do try not to judge him TOO harshly, but there’s no excuse for being a huge bigot or occasionally violent. The idea of him being the one who got that email is still so scary to me. Like my heart is racing just thinking about it

One of the people that DID read the email was the male friend I mentioned earlier though. He was shown it by someone else for a particular reason, and he was a very important person to me. Like he was a good guy, we were close, he helped me out with certain personal issues I have and is one of only two people that I know in real life that I felt comfortable confiding in about them. We’d always meet up once a week, sometimes twice, and we’d just talk about stuff and make an effort to help each other out with things. Like he was very important to me.

It turns out that he’d looked through my blog before I’d got around to scrubbing it, and he asked me if I was gay in person the next time we met up. I couldn’t lie because like… he’d have known I was lying right to his face. So, I told him I was, and you should have seen his face. It made me feel so awful about myself. He looked really stunned and shocked and kinda uncomfortable. Like it got so awkward, and I started rambling and making things worse. He was avoiding eye contact, and my voice was shaking.

I ended up making up an excuse to leave about 5 mins later and had an actual anxiety attack. Again, this is embarrassing and something I’d never usually talk about online, but I just want to get it all off my chest so that I can move past it all.

So, I was like on the verge of tears (I don’t cry easily), I couldn’t breathe properly, I was pacing around the building, and I just wanted to escape, so I headed straight for the doors. There was a queue of about 100 people lined up and waiting to leave, and I couldn’t think straight or breathe and just needed to be outside, so I tried to go out through the other exit which is for staff only. The security guard stopped me and basically publicly humiliated me in front of all of those people. He loudly shamed me and said I “didn’t have any decency” for attempted to jump the queue, lectured me in this really condescending tone, and then sent me right to the back of that huge line. Meanwhile, I was literally in the midst of a bad anxiety attack.

And then I eventually got outside and had to call my mum to come and pick me up instead of just making my own way home like I usually do. She’s amazing though tbh because she actually came to get me and didn’t even question why. I had to skip all of my plans for the rest of the day and instead just hid upstairs in my bedroom with the lights off until the next day. I refused to tell any of my family members what had happened even though they kept asking. I just felt so, so awful, and my anxiety was through the roof

To be honest, before that happened, my mindset was like: “I mean, if I get outed, it obviously wouldn’t be good, but I think I’d be able to deal with it fine”. But then, when it actually happened, and I saw the way my close friend reacted, I had like a whole emotional breakdown lol. It’s like, you think you’d be fairly chill in a situation, but when it actually happens, your reaction can be really unpredictable. I was so embarrassed by everything about that entire incident. I didn’t even want to show my face the next day.

It’s been almost two months since that happened, and in that entire time, my friend has contacted me once. We literally used to meet up once or twice a week (and during lockdown, we’d do video calls or phone calls instead), but since then, we’ve barely even spoken. Things are just so awkward now. I know this sounds stupid, but I feel like TTB’s taken one of my best friends away from me. I don’t think he’s a homophobe or anything, he has openly gay friends and is fairly accepting, but I think it’s just the way that he found out that has just made things so weird between us now. I feel like if I’d had the chance to come out to him myself in my own way, he wouldn’t have reacted like that. But I’m gonna text him next week and see if we can maybe try to fix our friendship, but I doubt it at this point

The other people who were shown the email, I mostly just avoid. I don’t really care about them knowing that much because I wasn’t close to them, but it’s just really embarrassing knowing that they probably scrolled through my Tumblr blog before I scrubbed it

And about Tumblr… This used to be the only place that I could fully be myself. It was like a “safe space” for me which feels ironic now. But I haven’t been active on my blog since December. I still lurk occasionally, but I just don’t feel comfortable here anymore. I did consider deleting my current blog and starting afresh with a new one, but I don’t think it’d make much of a difference… Like she’s kind of ruined Tumblr for me. I do still enjoy reading people’s blogs every now and then, but I don’t feel relaxed here anymore, I just feel on edge.

It’s mainly the fact that SHE’S still here. She still has a platform, she still has a bunch of followers. It’s been so hard seeing her face next to no consequences whatsoever for the horrible things that she’s done to so many different people. And it upsets me that she hasn’t even acknowledged that what she did was wrong. Plus, it makes me feel even worse that the Hard Kay blogs and some other people are still supporting her and pretending that this whole thing just didn’t happen. Like do they just not care? Or is it that she’s twisted things and made them believe that the situation was different to what it actually was?

And tbh, this whole situation has even set me back in my own sort of personal self-acceptance journey. I had such bad internalised homophobia when I was younger, and it took me so many years to get to a place where I had mostly accepted myself. But now I just feel ashamed again, and I’ve gone back to my old habit of trying to force myself to be attracted to men. Like I downloaded Tinder the other day and set my preference to men and was swiping through profiles. It’s kinda silly actually. I did snap out of it and delete the app the next day though. But I don’t know, I feel like this whole thing has just kinda fucked with me a bit. I am trying to work this stuff out and get back to normal though. I think I’ll be good again in maybe a month or so, hopefully.

And… yeah. I just really resent her, and this situation upsets me. Because the reason she did this was so petty and ridiculous, and I guess she didn’t even realise how much it would impact people? Like I do know that my situation wasn’t as bad as some of the other people’s situations, and I feel really bad for them, and I hope they’re all doing okay. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for them. But it still has impacted me a lot more than I actually thought it would. I thought I’d get over it within a couple of weeks. But it’s been like two months, and I’m still not completely over it

I know it might not sound like a huge thing, but being outed really does affect you, even if it’s only to a few people. Because to me, I feel like I’ve had my sense of like, security and comfort taken away, and it’s kinda distressing. Sorry if I sound dramatic with any of this, I just really needed to say all of this stuff to other people besides myself lol

Like her actions have literally led to me being outed to a few people. A close friendship that I had has basically been ruined. I don’t feel comfortable or secure on Tumblr anymore, even though it used to be an important outlet for me. I’ve had a resurgence of anxiety about my sexuality. Etc.

And again, my dad is extremely homophobic and literally made death threats to me and physically attacked me back when I accidentally came out to him in 2018 or 2019. And if he had gotten that email, I don’t even know what would have happened. I don’t think he would have like… SERIOUSLY physically harmed me, but there would definitely have been a repeat of the first incident. More throwing chairs at me and hitting and screaming and death threats. I don’t really want to think about it.

It just bothers me that she didn’t even consider that? Like did it not even cross her mind? And my dad is bad, but I’m sure there are people in the fandom who have even worse parents, and she could have got one of those people instead. It’s just so… I don’t know, it’s just so frustrating to me.

Anyway, I just hate her for what she did… Like maybe I shouldn’t, but I really do resent her so much, and I don’t think I could forgive her even if she apologised to us all (which I don’t think she even would because she doesn’t seem to have any decency whatsoever). The least she could do is at least express some kind of remorse, but she just genuinely doesn’t care, and that’s super messed up. All over some stupid Tumblr blog that is much less important than she thinks it is.

But anyway… I apologise for the whole rant, and if anybody read all the way down to here, I appreciate it. I do actually feel a bit better now that I’ve got this all typed out. And I’m sorry for the oversharing lol, I usually don’t do this, but I just felt like I really needed to tell people and get it off my chest so that I can try to get over it — L

submisssion⬆️⬆️⬆️

ok L i am trying to remain calm here because this isn’t about me.  but i am very emotional right now.  i am so so so infinitely sorry that you had to go through this harrowing and terrifying experience.  ttb (now blogging under spade-riddles) is absolutely disgusting, lower than dirt, that she would put your life, safety, and well-being at risk over a fucking kaylor blog.

please please please im me or get in touch somehow because i want to offer you support.  have you been financially impacted by this?  we can raise money.  do you need therapy?  we can help you find the support you need.  this community is unequivocally here for you.  whatever you need, if it’s in my power to help you get it, i will.  you have my solemn promise on that.

i am so deeply and desperately sorry that you have gone through this.  i was shaking while reading your story.

i am in touch with other people and we are in discussion about the best way to let tumblr know what happened.  this will be a safe space for you (and all of us) again if it’s the last thing i do.  this community is 100% here for you in any way we can help, sending you all the support and love we have.