#which took an UNGODLY amount of time. i didn't even check

[hyperfixated-homo]

When I tell you this took me so long. SO long to finish.

Donnie in a funky outfit I wish I owned because literally every item is a part of my dream closet <3 click for quality I know tumblr is going to butcher it

So many progress photos below. Because I like documenting the process if I'm doing things in an organised way :)

[reiderwriter]

Hi there! It's me :"> again I read that you're closing your request soon and I just want to put another in before the deadline haha But by no mean you should put more pressure on yourself please take all the time you need, I'm always here happily waiting while enjoy reading all of the fabulous writing you had for other requests <3 Much love to your work <3

I have a request for s smut fic when the BAU was called in for a case: the victims were workers at the local bars/restaurants, the bau!reader recognised one of the bars the unsub frequently target is the one she used to work at as bartender/mixologist while putting herself through school and asked to be the undercover while other agents supervise. After successfully closing the case, the BAU decided to celebrate at said bar and the owner was happy to let the reader personally make your friends any cocktails outside of the menu.

The reader then learned about all the mildly irritations and possessive feelings softdom!Spencer had while watching people hitting on you behind the bar, but all of that can be solved with a (almost criminally) 3-sugar-cube level of sweet of a cocktail the reader personally made for him hiding an ungodly amount of alcohol which made the night a lot more interesting ;)

I'm sorry if all of my requests are soo long I know you want to have as much details as possible but please lemme know if you feel like it's too much haha Happy writing!! :">

A/N: Thank you for your request! I was partly inspired by this post to help me out with some of the drinks orders, so go check it out for more character headcannoms!

Warnings: NSFW, soft dom! Spencer, spanking, semi-public sex, jealousy, slight breeding kink/ creampie, thigh fucking etc. 18+ Minors DNI

It had been a good few years since you quit the bartending job that put you through college, so you didn't realise just how much you'd missed it.

You thought it was the universe intervening when a case popped up in your college town, and the bar you'd spent every weekend in for nearly three years straight from the end of your undergrad to the first years of your masters degree was at the dead centre of Spencer Reid's geographical profile.

You knew the unsub had been hunting from bars, and it took only a few nights of surveillance to catch his scent, and one more of a simple cover to get the guy.

You'd taken up your spot once again, slipping easily back into making cocktails and pouring pints of beer on tap - a skill you were regretfully slow to learn but happy to see stayed with you even in your brief retirement.

You busted the bar while your coworkers tried to look inconspicuous sitting around as customers. Diligently, you served them mocktails and alcohol free beer ad regulars clapped you on the back, greeting you like an old friend as you worked to catch a killer.

JJ was the bait, and you were glad, for once, that it wasn't you, even if that thought made you feel guilty. She slipped out with a crash, and all eyed were on the man that followed her quietly to the alleyway out back.

He practically arrested himself. All in all, it had taken maybe three days to catch the guy, and you'd never been so happy to have had to work a double shift to do it.

“Y/N, if this FBI thing doesn't work for you, I'd be glad to have you back behind the bar. These college students just aren't what they used to be.” Your ex-boss grinned at you, indulging in his own glass of whiskey now that the case was closed.

He'd graciously invited your entire team to spend the rest of the evening at the bar celebrating (for at least a drink or two before his wife came to collect him). You were shocked when Hotch took him up on the offer, but happily stayed behind the bar mixing up the drinks.

“Okay, now that we've found out you're this magic mixologist, you have got to make us personal cocktails. I want to see how drunk you can get me, Y/L/N.” Emily laughed from the corner, finishing the last dregs of her virgin piña colada.

“My dear Emily, it is not the mixologist job to get you drunk, it's the mixologist job to keep you sober for as long as possible so you keep buying drinks.”

“No, come on kid, I'm intrigued as well. I'm not a cocktail guy but you've been pouring like a woman possessed tonight. Help.me out here, Spencer, hasn't she been on fire?”

Spencer's eye caught yours and your heart skipped a beat when he gave you a small smile. He'd been quiet all night, and you felt a little regretful that you'd made him stay so long in a place he wasn't entirely comfortable with. But he was still here, and surprisingly, still drinking, nursing the beer that your old boss had served them all when they'd returned from the crime scene.

“Mixology is an interesting field of study. When you think about it, it's practically chemistry.”

“I like to think of it as alchemy,” you grinned at him, enjoying the way he could turn anything into something more complicated and mathematical than it is. “Because one sip of one of my cocktails will have you thinking you've unlocked the secret of immortality.”

“Okay, if that's how drunk we're getting tonight then I'm calling home now,” JJ laughed standing from her chair and already dialling the numbers.

“Okay - here we go.” You grabbed the bottle of vodka from the counter and started, keeping your eyes focused on Reid as much as you could.

–X–

After two hours and about 5 rounds of cocktails, you'd nearly defeated the entire team. Your ex-boss had thrown you the keys half an hour earlier and called himself a cab, leaving you behind to close up just like old times.

Hotchner and Rossi had given in after two drinks each, apparently old and wise enough to know just how much alcohol was in an Old Fashioned and a Negroni each.

“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” Emily had mocked them on the way out, but two drinks later and she was asleep in the back of a cab having been carried out by both JJ and Morgan.

You'd used the good gin in her Aviation cocktail, and it was only a matter of time before she ended up peacefully sleeping the week away.

The only member of the team left standing was, surprisingly again, Spencer.

You'd gone simple with his Espresso Martini, though you'd made a big show and dance about adding twice as much brown sugar syrup than the recipe required.

“A sweet cocktail for the man who drinks the sweetest coffee known to man.” He'd brushed his hand across your fingers every time you'd passed him a refill, and you'd felt the familiar jolts of anticipation pass through you with each shared glance.

Your old boss had even noticed that you were ‘sweet on that little coworker of yours,’ and you'd had to do your best to stop yourself from openly flirting with him whilst he was sat there at the bar.

You'd done it for tips every single shift, not caring about the consequences, buy with Spencer, you so desperately wanted there to be consequences that you never so much as tried.

“We should pack up and head home, Spence.” You said, cleaning up the final glass of Mai Tai Derek had left behind, but when you turned around to see him, he was gone.

More accurately, he'd moved to your side of the bar and was sliding his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you in.

You gasped his name like a prayer, not expecting his cold fingers to curl under your shirt as he buried his head in your shoulder.

“Spencer! What's… what are…”

“Let me hold you.” He didn't say much more than that, but he didn't need to say more. You'd already.relaxed into his touch, eyes shutting so you could focus on the feel of his skin against yours.

“You're good at this,” he mumbled, words slightly slurred. “Everyone was watching you, they all wanted you to pour their drinks.”

You listened to each word of his voice fighting off confusion. Who was everybody? There hadn't been another customer in the bar since you'd made the arrest.

“The old men in the corner, they looked down your top when you picked something up for them. I heard them talking about it, how they thought about stuffing a couple of one's right here,” his hand trailed up to your breasts and you gasped, “like you were some stripper.”

His hands were slowly caressing you as he stood, chest pressed against your back, and you felt desire flood between your legs.

“Spencer, you're drunk, we should get you back to the motel.”

“My blood alcohol level should be around 0.11, so yes, legally I am drunk. If you want me back at the motel, be my guest, but I don't think I can keep my hands off of you tonight, Y/N.”

His words were blunt, delivered the same way he usually talked about case details, or books he'd read. There was nothing in it to indicate he'd meant to turn your world upside down just like that.

His hand had moved under your bra now, and you snapped back to reality, grabbing his hand and halting his movements momentarily as you craned your neck to look at him.

“Spencer, you're not in your right mind, you're going to regret this-” you didn't get to finish the sentence as he cut you off, pushing his lips into yours softly. With each second, his passion grew, until the two of you were caught in a battle of tongues, saliva dripping down your chin as you cared about nothing else but the pleasure you found in each other's mouths.

“The only thing,” he whispered between kisses. “That I'm going to regret, is if I let you walk me out of that door without showing you how much I want to possess every inch of you.”

His words were insistent but there was a question hidden in his movements. He'd withdrawn slightly, giving you enough space to turn him down should you want to.

You didn't.

Instead, you let a hand run up the back of his neck to his hair until you were pulling him down into you, stepping back into the warmth of his broad chest as you opened up to him.

Your other hand relinquished his, letting him explore your chest further and doing much of the same as you tried your very best to twist in your spot to get a better hold of him.

He was holding firm though, despite everything he'd drank, and had pushed you once again against the counter, hand moving between exploring your ass cheeks, and placing your hand firmly underneath you on the table so you could stabilise your position.

He worked his lips down your neck, prying your other hand out of his hair and placing it parallel to the first, before pulling your hips back slightly and encouraging you to arch your back.

You only realised you'd assumed a position for spanking when the first blow landed on your ass.

It was soft, all things considered, and he was still busy bruising your neck that you almost thought you'd imagined it.

The next one was harder though. It was real.

“Spencer!” You gasped as he stroked a hand over your asscheeks.

“Shhhhhhhh s'okay. You have a beautiful ass, I'm just making it prettier.”

His hands fumbled over your pants zipper, and then pulled them down to your knees as he continued stroking your ass and licking your neck.

The material limited your movements, trapping your knees together as he delivered one more blow. The skin to skin contact was too much and you let out a sinful moan, surprised at how loud you were suddenly managing to be.

You'd never been spanked before, never even thought about it, but something about Spencer's hands on you, the lingering scent of alcohol in the air had every hair on your body standing in excitement.

You heard Spencer unzip his own pants and were a little regretful that you didn't get the honour. You wanted to see him hold him in your hand, take him into your mouth and play with him until you knew just how he worked. But your back was still to him, and he wasn't giving you the space you needed to turn around and catch a glimpse.

“Every man in this bar tonight wanted to be where I am right now,” he whispered into your hair as he kissed the crown of your head, and then pushed your panties aside and ran himself along the lips of your cunt.

It was a night of sounds - the zippers, his whispers, your moans - bit you still weren't expecting to be able to hear your arousal.

It was erotic, near pornographic how wet his spanking had made you, and he let out small groans of appreciation as he gathered your juices on his cock.

He didn't try to breech you just yet, but rocked his cock between your thighs and cunt, teasing you just enough to keep you hooked, but nowhere near where you needed him to get you.

“Every man who was in here wanted you, and I got you. Right?” He asked again, practically rutting against your cunt.

“Y-Yes, Spencer.”

“Yes, sir.” He corrected, and you gasped as his hand struck your ass again, dangerously close to where his hips joined yours.

“Yes, sir.”

“Be a good girl for me, baby. I want to take care of you.”

With those words, he lined the tip of his cock up with your entrance and slipped in.

With your knees still locked in place by your pants, it was really up to Spencer to control the pace. You didn't spare a second for the thought that had you been completely naked with a better range of motion that he still wouldn't relinquish this quiet control of you.

With one hand on your hip, and the other curled around to reach your clit as you arched your back against him, it wasn't long before he was setting a vigorous pace.

It wasn't that he was thrusting particularly fast, or that he was doing it ridiculously hard, like some men who knew no better tried. It was the combination of how far he was able to reach with his careful concentration on your pleasure.

You felt him speed up once before quickly drawing himself back to the even tempo, doing his best to not get lost in you.

His fingers traced your cunt in a slow figure eight as first, before experimenting with different movements, shapes, words until he'd been rewarded by your cunt clenching around his cock as you came all over it.

You gasped in shock, and flushed, so shocked it took only that long.

Instead of congratulating himself on getting you off though, he used your orgasm to inform himself of what you liked, what you so desperately needed from his fingers and his cock.

And most importantly, he didn't stop.

Even as your body twitched and spasmed around his cock, he kept up his wrist movements, keeping your body warmed up as he finally took his turn.

“Tell me how much you want this,” he whispered into your ear.

“I want this so badly, Sir, I need your cock pumping in and- ahhh out of me.”

“Tell me how nice my cock feels,” he again ordered and you willingly obeyed.

“Your cock is perfect, it's so big and warm, like it was made just for me.”

“Good girl, now tell me how much you want me to shoot my cum inside of you.”

Your mouth went dry as you choked out a moan, his pace getting rougher and rougher with each thrust. You hadn't heard him correctly, surely, your brain was imagining things.

But he prompted you with a slight tap to your face, a slap that wouldn't leave any mark.

“You don't want my cum all over this bar, do you? It would be a shame for your ex boss to fail his hygiene inspection.”

“Cum in me! God, please cum in me.”

He gripped you tight around your waist as he finally pushed himself over the edge, filling you with his seed and keeping you pinned in his arms until he was sure that none of it would escape.

“I'm glad you agreed, because I wasn't asking,” he said, chest still slightly heaving as he rode out his orgasm, lower body twitching in its sensitivity.

When he finally did pull out, he'd spent so long inside you, cockwarming, that not much of his cum slipped out. He cleaned you up with a clean dishcloth you pointed to on the counter, and pulled your pants back up, quickly manoeuvring his up too.

After a brief moment of silence, you finally turned to look at him, melting into his arms again as you took in his fucked out expression.

He stroked your head quietly for a few minutes, before pulling back from your hug.

“This bar doesn't have CCTV, does it?”

[defectivehero]

Hi recently found your blog it’s so good! But was wondering if you could one where the hero lost there glasses in a fight maybe or just at home and the villain sees them idk take your pick possibly m x m? Ty even if not have a good day!

your wish is my command! (not really, but this is a great idea and you asked very nicely!) here you go, hope you have a great day <3

The hero has grown accustomed to working late night hours at the agency. He's grown used to being the last person in the office, to shutting the lights off and locking the door behind him once he leaves. The hero always feels guilty leaving right at his scheduled time, especially when his job can determine if a person lives as a bystander to a horrible event or dies as a victim. He begins to stay later and later into the night, and it becomes increasingly hard for him to tear himself away from the agency and his hero mask.

This overtime habit is how the hero finds himself hunched over his desk with rather painful crooked posture as he compulsively checks his computer for messages. His agency is one of the first to adopt a sophisticated messaging system that converts audio from emergency calls to text, which are sent as alerts straight to their inbox. The idea sounded morbid at first—the hero didn't want to equate life-saving to checking his email. But the system grew on him. It's convenient and easy to use, drastically improving the agency’s response time.

He squints at the screen in front of him, rubbing his eyes roughly when his vision begins to blur. He's tired.

Perhaps the hero’s exhaustion is the reason why he fails to notice a figure standing in the corner of the room, watching him. “Your eyesight is terrible.” The hero hears, stiffening in his seat and turning around to find his enemy, the villain, lurking in the shadows. It takes him a few moments to process the statement.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” the hero then huffs, blinking a few times as he realizes his eyes feel incredibly dry. His close-up vision is passable, so he's still able to do his job. His distance vision, on the other hand...

The hero has worn glasses since fourth grade. He experimented with contacts but eventually went back to wearing glasses. He's spent an ungodly amount of time in his life wiping his glasses clean with a cloth or pushing his frames further up his nose.

“I’m serious,” the villain sighs. “How can you even see out of these?” At that, the villain steps forward and holds out his hand, revealing a pair of glasses. The hero immediately recognizes the telltale blue gleam that distinguishes his glasses, and reaches out to his enemy. He almost expects the villain not to hand them over, so when the glasses hit the hero's palm, he raises his eyebrows.

"Thank you," the hero feels the need to say, when the silence stretches on to a painful tension. When he puts on his glasses, the blurriness around his vision clears and he can see the words displayed on his screen in sharp, clean strokes. The hero then stares at the villain, several questions on the tip of his tongue. How did the villain remember the hero had lost his glasses? Did he go back to retrieve them? And if so... why?

"It took me a few days to realize why you hadn't shown your face since our fight," the villain answers, as if reading his mind. The hero has to wonder how he grew so predictable. "After that, it didn't take long for me to remember that blow I dealt you—rather powerful, if I do say so myself—and the ensuing clatter of your glasses falling to the ground. So... I went back to the rooftop and grabbed them."

That answers the hero's first two questions. He is still left with the most important query of all: why?

The villain seems to telepathically understand this question too. He takes a slow breath in and ambles around the office in a carefree manner that makes it seem as if he owns the space.

"A win is more enjoyable if it's a complete victory," the villain drawls, tapping his fingers along a nearby desk. The hero has to wonder if his enemy has his power activated—if charred fingerprints will be left as remnants (as tangible evidence) of their encounter. "That means no cheap advantages or hinderances."

Ah. The villain wanted a fair fight—one unimpeded by the hero's poor vision. He supposes he can understand that. The villain is honorable above all else. The hero knows this about his enemy, has grown to accept it. Perhaps he should've intuited that motivation before bothering to ask.

The villain is still lingering, as if waiting for something. The hero's patience only lasts a few minutes. “Well, was there another reason for your visit, or…?” The hero asks, looking at him with sharpened vision. His glasses now provide him with a glimpse of the nuance written in the villain's form—the minuscule pull to his lips, the faded scars tangled around his hands. The hero is suddenly thankful to have his glasses again—but for entirely different reasons than before.

“That was it,” the villain says, his gaze turning scrutinizing. "Why are you in such a rush? Got a hot date?" The latter statement is spoken with a surprising amount of venom.

The hero raises his eyebrows. "A date?" He hums casually, his heart racing in his chest. He didn't expect the conversation to take such a sharp turn into such a convoluted and confusing subject. "At this hour? Of course not."

Something settles in the villain's expression. "Right," he says, something close to relief coloring his tone. "Then, I'll be seeing you." He remarks, turning on his heel and walking out the door. The hero watches him leave, a multitude of different emotions battling in his chest.

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[mark-of-chrysus]

#9

It was a wonderful day in Seoul and Danny was an awful person. And if it happened that Eugene was on the receiving side of him choosing violence that day, well it was simply bad luck~

It started with him coming into Eugene's office out of nowhere with an obviously fake neon green mustache and a box of spiders, which was promptly yeeted at the president and shattered all over his desk. A sharp high-pitched scream had his men tumbling into the office before they took a look at the little black devils skittering everywhere and booked it out without another backward glance.

It took almost three hours until they finally managed to get rid of all the spiders and shards and coax the mini evil-doer down from the chandelier. The spawn of chaos that was Danny had long since escaped the building, leaving behind only his fluffy green mustache attached to a cardboard cutout of one of their female streamers.

Eugene was displeased but chalked it up as a one-off thing, a sort of petty revenge from a man who could do nothing more to him. Oh, how wrong he was.

After the spiders came the baby crocodiles with lightsabers strapped to their backs. That was an ordeal that left the teen president quite paranoid since it had taken place in his personal apartment.

The third attempt wasn't stopped by his quadrupled security nor their new fancy gear. After all, Daniel was a one-man army, stupid electric fences and radars were no match for the ungodly amount of caffeine and pure spite that fueled his revenge. Judging by the screams and colorful curses, Eugene and him were on the same page.

Another terrorizing attempt successfully completed, Danny pulled out his list and checked another item off. Unfortunately, despite being useful for the drip, his makeshift batman mask was a bit hard to see through, so he had to take it off to read the next item on the list.

"Hmmm, okay, let's see... Spiders? Check. Baby alligators with light sabers? Check. Possessed Michael Jackson Animatronics? Check. I think I have time for one more before the loop ends...let's see..."

ghosts of all the bugs he's ever killed crawling on his skin? Nah, too tame.

waking up at a furry convention? I think the loop will reset before I have time to wait for this year's furry convention.

injecting him with truth serum before a fancy gala? Too much political drama, and too little chaos.

Daniel paused at the last one, a shark-like smirk overcoming his features.

"This...Heh...This is going to be good...Hehehehe MUAHAHAHHA-"

"Can you knock it off!" His neighbor reinforced his words by knocking on their shared wall rather forcefully.

"Sorry!" Came the boy's sheepish reply.

Even evil masterminds have to be mindful of their manners when committing atrocities, he nodded to himself before returning to the task at hand with an impish smile. He set out to gather his army.

The next day at 9 AM sharp the Worker's main building was invaded by an army of angry middle-aged women, armed with various household appliances, all claiming that the young businessman had seduced their daughters.

"He promised to marry my Lia!" A lady wielding a portable vacuum cleaner shouted indignantly at the poor receptionist, underlining each word with a menacing thump of her weapon onto the counter.

"He already proposed to my daughter!" Another woman chimed in waving a mighty frying pan with a murderous expression.

"Mine's pregnant with his baby!" Came the enraged shouting of another.

"My-"

"He-"

The crowd erupted into outrage, screaming even louder than before and banging onto the walls and floor while trying to speak over one another. Another outrageous comment, another wave of shouting and banging, until the whole street and every employee in the building had stopped to watch the chaos.

Daniel's muffled giggles were abruptly cut off when he felt the telltale tug on his soul that came with every reset.

"No wait, I didn't get to see the aftermath!" He whined, but to no avail.

"At least I get to try out the rest of my ideas in the next loop." He shrugged, downing the remaining chips in the bag.

[idesofrevolution]

Mr. Steal-Your-Man

You left the club exhausted. The music was hot, the people were hot, your girlfriend was... very drunk. It was the first time in MONTHS that you got to go out, and you were so excited to finally just let loose at a live concert again. Not that Christi was particularly into the idea. To be honest, listening to her complain and slur and talk shit about her "friends" had been nagging on your shoulder for some time now. If you were being real with yourself, you'd admit your feelings for her had diminished quite a bit. If you were keeping it truly real, you'd admit that you were tired of no sex for the past eight months. You were tired of her getting pissed when she caught you beating one out on a Saturday afternoon. You were tired of having to work, cook, clean, and silently agree with her every whim. In short, you were whipped and you were... well, exhausted.

You turned and did your best to let the bouncer deal with her drunken ramblings about you, as Uber began to load up on your phone. Please, don't be a long wait, you thought; begging to just get her home and into bed so you wouldn't have to worry. The little ding from your phone signaled you had precisely five minutes before "Greg" in is Red Toyota Sienna would come pick you up out front. Turning around, you prepared for the ungodly fight that was going to ensue to get her in the car and yet, as you scanned the crowd to see where she'd gone off to, you couldn't help but notice that you were being watched.

Against the side gate of the back alley leaned the musician for the night, fresh off the stage from his set. He was a DJ, you couldn't quite recall his name, but he was a fairly well known fixture around town after a few well received gigs and a quick tour. His face glistened with sweat as the streetlight illuminated him from above, his hand covering the flirtatious side grin he cast you from his face. Intriguing. You wonder if he recognized you from somewhere, or more likely his gaze was pointed at someone else closeby. Still, something felt magnetic from those stoned, red eyes.

"BAAAAAAAAAAAABE I wanna go homeeeee." Christi's whining broke the connection like a baseball flying through a plate glass window. You took a deep breath and turned to her. She was fumbling with her clutch, trying to find keys for a car you didn't have. "I don't knoww... Where the fuck are the keys. I think... I think that fucking bartender took them. I bet..." Just as you were preparing to turn and head back into the club to appease her, a gruff, smoky voice came billowing from beside you.

"What's up. How'd y'all like the set?" You turned, and were met with the DJ's chill, definitely toked out face. From up close, you were better able to read him, and absolutely one hundred percent he was flashing you and Christi some looks. She turned and immediately started to do her typical chipper grovelling. That beat drop was so cool yada yada yada, the lights were so colorful yada yada yada, it frustrated you to no end knowing that she hated the set and wouldn't even dance, so every lie she spewed made your expression sink a bit further into irritation. "That's what's up, that's dope. Thank you so much." He was suave, a laid back attitude that perhaps was elevated by an inordinate amount of weed (of which you could easily smell behind a thick veil of sweaty musk), but it felt genuine- not put on for clout.

"Yeah, man. I fuckin' loved it. I'm gonna have to check you out on iTunes." He turned to you and smiled, raising his hand to collide with yours. He did not break eye contact, but his brows did furrow just a bit, a facial signal you'd read many times before.

"Yeah, man. I saw you out there on the floor. Love seein' folks feel the music, you know what I'm sayin'?" You and Christi both nodded, your attention entirely entangled with him. "So, I don't know if y'all are into this or not. But, I'm headin' back to my place in a bit, if you two wanted to... you know. Tag along." You were picking up what he was laying down. You'd never been propositioned like this before, you'd never been propositioned for a threesome before, and for a solid moment there you sincerely thought about taking him up on that offer. You'd never been with a guy before, you'd never been interested in guys before, but something was different with this dude. Yet, as you turned to see Christi's uninterested gaze and felt her pinch your forearm- the universal signal she was saying no.

"We've been drinking a lot, and I think we're just gonna get home and hit the hay. Thank you for the offer though!" You tried to smile, express your nonverbal apologies, and it seemed to be received. He held his hands up and chuckled.

"Hey, shoot your shot, right? You change your mind, let me know, aight?" He pulled out a sharpie from his pocket, fresh from signing his headshots, and scribbled on your hand a phone number and his name, Apollo. He winked at you two as he sauntered back down the back alley out of sight. You turned to Christi, yet again destroying your chances not only of getting laid, but dictating to you about promiscuity or something. You stopped listening the moment she called him a faggot.

The night ended much as expected. "Greg" showed up in his Red Toyota Sienna and drove you and Christi home. She stumbled around the kitchen a bit before taking the last of your La Croix and heading up to your bedroom before passing out atop the duvet. This is how every outing went. And frankly, you were done. You'd been done for quite some time now, but for some reason, you couldn't shake Apollo's wink from your mind and the tension of having yet another opportunity whisked away from you boiled over. You pulled your phone off the charger on the counter and typed in the number hastily written on your wrist.

"Hey," you texted "thanks for the offer tonight. If you're still out I'll defs come grab a drink or something?" You felt a rush. Was this wrong? Is this cheating? Did you... care? Your phone chimed: your caller ID proclaimed a message from DJ Apollo Wilde.

"dope im leavin the bar now meet up at my place on esplanade" followed by the address. You snagged your keys (a plus of not being drunk this evening) and checked your hair in the hall mirror. Just a once over before slipping out of the front door as quietly as possible.

The drive only took about fifteen minutes, and you were eventually out in front of a fairly nice apartment complex. Super modern, nicely landscaped, floor to ceiling windows... Impressive. You pressed the call button and typed in 7A. The box rang and after a solid 10-20 seconds of anxiety, Apollo's sultry voice spilled from the intercom.

"Whassup, head on up, man." The door buzzed loudly, and you quickly swung the door open and crossed the lobby to the elevators. You rode them to the 7th floor in quiet anticipation. You were floored you were doing this. Never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined that you'd be taking up some dude's offer for a nightcap in his apartment- let alone while being 'taken.' The doors opened to the floor and you meandered to the end of the hall: 7A. Outside the door were three or four sets of sneakers and boots, all wafting a heavy stench of wet foot funk. You knocked on the door, and could hear from the far end of the apartment a bit of movement. Taking another guilty glance down at your feet, the well worn shoes had caught your attention. You'd never liked feet. You'd never really been turned on by musk or sweat... But something about that warm, sharp scent... fresh... right off of his body... leaving some of himself in them, his essence... Yeah, it hit different. Before you could even know what you were doing you'd picked up one of the more beat up AF1's and brought it to your nose. You inhaled deeply, and let that intoxicating smell right into yourself. It hit just like poppers, a wave of goosebumps flushed down your body, and your head got ever so slightly more misty and light.

The fiddling of the lock came quick and as Apollo swung the door open you dropped the sneaker back onto the pile, trying to pull off a nonchalant posture as you met his gaze and hoping he hadn't seen. Just one look at him and whatever concerns or qualms in your head about whether or not to follow through with this insane booty call melted away. That slicked back, sweaty black hair, that stoned gaze that felt so effortlessly cool, that natural man smell that poured from his lean, inked frame. He nodded his head in greeting, reaching his hand out to you once more.

Taking his hand, he guided you inside, letting the door shut behind him. The apartment was disastrously messy. Dirty clothes littered the floor atop mixers, amps, sneakers, tablets... all bathed in the blue and purple glow of colored lights. The fanciness of the apartment seemed more comfortable, to be honest, and you felt at ease in the smoke veiled flat. There, against a wall of glass, viewing the incredible skyline was a platform bed and a huge bong sitting atop an old MacBook.

"Damn, dude you got a nice..." You couldn't even finish before he'd taken your face between his slick palms and pulled your lips together. His lips were like butter, soft and pillowy; and his pierced tongue slid like a slick, smoky probe around your mouth. No girl had ever kissed this well before, no girl had ever tasted this mouthwatering. Your lips parting made you have an insatiable need for more, his hot breath still flooding your mouth.

"Fuck I'm glad it's just you, bruh. No offense but your girl is rough, man, but I was gonna push through it if I got to spend some time with you." His hands slid down your back and playfully groped your ass, before he pulled your hand toward the bed. He plopped down and finished packing the bowl he'd started, the leather jacket shining like polished latex in the fuchsia hues. "I know you ain't ever been with a dude before." The Bic lighter snapped as he lit the bowl, taking a considerable drag you were not confident you could follow. He winked at you as he blew the cloud of smoke into your face. "I can tell. But I'mma take it nice and slow for you, babe." Flashing a cocky grin, he passed you the bong. You brought the opening to your lips as he ignited the bowl. Pulling, pulling, pulling, until the bong was filled with white smoke. Before you could do it, Apollo pulled the stopper, and the smoke flooded into your lungs. Expecting a coughing fit of epic proportions, you held your breath. As you let the smoke slowly out, it felt as if you'd done this a million times even though this was by far the largest toke you'd ever taken. Your brows dropped, your eyes got heavy, your body relaxed, and your mind was finally contently quiet. He pulled out a small remote and clicked the speakers on. Some of his low fi, almost vaporwave beats began to pump through the bass. Though you'd never heard it before, you seemed to know every single beat, every single melody and scratch. He smiled as you bobbed your head to his music.

"That's right, baby. Here, take my boots off." Apollo swung his legs around, letting his huge, well loved Timberlands rest in your lap. "I saw you playin' with the AF's. You like it don't ya?" You absentmindedly nodded, and began to unlace the huge boats. Pulling off the first one, wet hot steam burst forth as if decompressing from the hot confines of the boot. His stretched out white socks were stained with his footprint on the bottom, beckoning for you. "Try the boot first, baby. Let summa that musty foot funk in." You brought the size 13 Timberland to your face and dragged just as you did from the bong. Sopping wet. Buttery. Salty. Tangy. It was as if you were inhaling his entire concert right out of the hot spring. His wet sock pressed and played with your growing bulge as you let your tongue slide across the insole, your tongue bursting with a flavor indescribably savory and addictive with every droplet of his sweat. "Fuuuuck, I love the way you love that funk after a show. Here, take the other one off."

You let the first boot thunk to the ground next to your feet, as you eagerly yank off the second yellow Timberland from his foot. As it drops to the ground, Apollo smiles as he puts his feet on your face, the sweaty, grimy slime of built up footsweat against your skin was better than any day spa could ever make you feel. So in euphoria were you that you didn't even notice your feet starting pulsate, as the hot smelly fumes from the Timberlands began to penetrate into your own soles and into every crevice behind each toe until your feet had begun to emanate his own irresistible musk.

"Fuck yeah, babe. I love how drunk you get off me. Gimme some of those lips." He pulled his feet from your face, smirking as he noticed the stubble that had begun to develop on your chin and upper lip. You crawled atop him in a feat of dirty passion you'd never had before, locking your rapidly plumping lips with Apollo's, still tainted with the taste of his own feet. You knew he loved your musty size 13's, especially after sharing his boots; a constant part of your filthy sex ritual. You knew he loved the taste of ashy weed on your pierced tongue as it slid over his, and you knew just how to make him happy when your lips met. His soft hands slid over your slimming body, ripping the ill fitted clothing from your tanning skin. You pulled away and began to slowly unbutton his pants. Tattoos sprawled out across your slimming fingers as your expertly pulled the ripped black jeans to the ground, exposing the throbbing outline of his cock behind the thin fabric of his Calvin Kleins.

"Aww fuck yeah, babe. You always know what to do." Apollo tossed the leather jacket aside, and sprawled backward with his arms behind his head; a naughty twinkle hidden in his narrow brown eyes. Pulling down the off-white calvins wet with sweat and pre, his lean, rock hard uncut cock nearly smacked you in the jaw as it does nearly every time. You lick around the head and under his foreskin, letting your piercing tease him while you taste that funky ass dick you love. He moans as you take him into your mouth, letting it slide down your throat without so much as a heave. He smirks as he grabs the back of your head and slams it down, face fucking you with rhythmic, rolling thrusts. His balls slap against your chin as your body starts to soak up his sweat on your skin, putting on just enough muscle to define your tall, sunkissed body. "Jesus Christ, you're so sexy." Apollo muttered, letting you up for air.

You smiled, your sultry and handsome face oozed sexual confidence matched only by his after years of damn good sex. Ripping off his shirt, you flipped him as he growled in furious lust, plunging your tongue into his tight, sweaty hole.

"FUCK, Mateo. Get in there, fuck yeah." Your cock elongated with every pump of blood; 6 inches. 8 inches. 10 inches, before the skin closed loosely over your 11" inch uncut python, begging to explore your man's spit slick hole. You pulled your tongue out, and quickly plunged your pre-lubed cock into Apollo. You fucked him bareback, deep with a swagger and romantic passion that drove you wild.

"Fuck, Apollo. I'm gonna blow." He growled thrust backwards, spearing himself on you and stroking your cock with an ass better than any fleshlight on the market until your inflating balls couldn't handle any more. You shot your famously massive load deep into Apollo, streams of white cum shooting out of his hole like a geyser. You smirked and pulled out just in time for him to grab you by the neck, tossing you onto your back.

"You're so fuckin' hot, Mateo. Let me in that ass." Gagging you with his socks you love to sniff every day, he plowed you rough with his wide hands against your throat until he could climax his own flood into your body. Apollo dismounted and plopped on his back next to you, throwing his arm around your neck as you fell asleep in eachother's juices.

The next morning, the sun shone bright through the windows onto you and your man's notoriously sexy bodies sprawled across the satin sheets. You woke up as you always did, swiping on your OnlyFans and Twitter until Apollo would wake. A grope of your lithe cock and a deep kiss was all you needed each morning from him, assuming it was just you two the night before. You hopped out of bed, slipping on one of Apollo's outfits from a show earlier in the week, and borrowing his ripe socks and Doc Martens to flesh out the look. In their home, "mi casa es su casa." Just as you were heading out to get some promo shots for the next album, a ping from your phone showed a strange text from an unknown number, asking about her boyfriend or whatever. Psh. Must've been the wrong number.

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch.5

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4

Summary: someone please give Nicole a break for the love of Miranda. And there be smut y'all

---

Seeing Cassandra's softer side made something flutter within Nicole's chest. The brunette was a sadist through and through. Witness to that fact was the array of torture devices that littered the dungeons. Not to mention the prisoners she frequently killed, only to haul them on the autopsy tables in her study to be examined, chopped and sectioned by the both of them.

But there was an uncharacteristic sort of gentleness in the way their lips slid against each other, sharp teeth occasionally biting down on Nicole's lower lip but never enough to draw blood. In the way Cassandra would drag sharp nails against flushed skin, but not go beyond the pleasurable amount of pain. Even the glint in golden eyes when Nicole went over some old notes of hers on more tricky anatomy concepts. Having an exclusive look at this side of Cassandra felt beyond intimate and the thought almost made her miss when the brunette spoke from where she was leaning over a notebook.

"Okay let's just wrap this up, I have plans."

Nicole hummed, dropping the liver she was holding in a freezer bag. Most body parts were already bagged and ready to be picked up by Cynthia and her undercooks, they were just putting into practice some things the brunette was curious about. She dropped the now blood soaked leather gloves in the sink and went to sit by Cassandra, who was scribbling some final notes.

"In that case I'll go enjoy a cup of tea," she sighed. "Tea that I had to skip because someone was eager to start on this early."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow at her, accompanied by her usual smirk. "I meant plans with you."

Oh? That was new. The brunette laughed at Nicole's wide eyed expression and snapped her notebook shut. She took her sweet time putting it on the shelf with the others and checking the time, pretending not to notice the redhead's inquisitive expression. Then, she lifted Nicole’s chin with a thankfully not covered in blood finger.

"Don't get me wrong I love it here but," she grimaced, "it gets stuffy sometimes. Especially in summer."

Well, that much was true. The undergrounds of the castle were oddly warm, although not downright hot, compared to what one would expect from a castle. Pair that with the annoyingly humid atmosphere and having to wear a leather apron and gloves so as to not completely ruin your outfit and you got the perfect recipe for discomfort. She really ought to ask Cassandra about installing some kind of better ventilation down here.

"Meet me in the attic in about… an hour." She leaned down and their mouths were so close that Nicole could feel icy breath on her lips.

The attic? She's never been to the attic, it was not only off limits for most staff but also dangerous if rumors were to be believed. Not that she had the clarity of mind to voice any concerns when Cassandra finally leaned in to kiss her, complete with a nip on her lower lip that made Nicole’s breath hitch.

---

The fact that Nicole had no idea how to get to the attic could be a slight problem. She had asked Anita, but not only did she not know, she also seemed mortified by the idea. Another maid just gave her vague directions to look for a ladder on the top floor. As if that wasn't like trying to find the needle in a haystack. Or the needle in a giant castle.

She was just wandering around the top floor, praying not to stumble upon anyone who would be less than thrilled to see her there. A sigh of relief escaped past her lips when she heard familiar buzzing and steps coming towards her.

"Oh Cas-" she swallowed her words when she noticed red hair spilling from underneath a black hood.

"Nicole! What are you doing here hmm?" Her inquisitive hum was way too exaggerated the same way her fangs seemed too sharp when she grinned.

"I was just looking for Ca- lady Cassandra. She asked me to meet her in the attic."

Daniela's mouth fell open, almost forming an O shape. Then back to her characteristic giggle, almost as if laughing at a joke only she knew.

"What, you don't know how to get there?"

"...Not really," she sheepishly admitted.

And that was a mistake. Nicole would've preferred to wander the hallways until Cassandra eventually got bored enough of waiting and decided to come see where her glorified lab partner was. But her plan was ruined by Daniela wordlessly grabbing her arm and pulling her in the opposite direction she was going in. She even went the extra mile to partially turn into a swarm, which made Nicole's panic skyrocket. She didn't mind bugs. But having hundreds of them fly all around you, accompanied by manic giggling was a whole other thing.

Before she knew it though, Daniela let go of her arm, laughing a little at Nicole's stumbling. She gestured dramatically towards a ladder and said:

"There you go. Say hi to Cassie for me."

"Th- thank you my lady." And with a small bow of the head she grabbed the ladder and started ascending on shaky legs.

"And enjoy your date," she called out, once Nicole was at the top of the stairs.

Blushing, she decided to ignore the comment and start looking for the sister less likely to turn her into fly food.

The attic looked… old. It was obvious that people didn't come here often, although someone probably did clean it regularly as there were no cobwebs nor dirt on any surfaces, aside from some dust. It was full of neatly arranged boxes and crates, their contents as mysterious as the castle's inhabitants. Tentative steps took her across ancient floorboards, navigating old rooms.

"Rah!"

Nicole damn near jumped out of her skin, a string of curses spilling past her lips. "Jesus fucking christ Cassandra!"

The brunette only laughed, hands on her knees and pretending to wipe a tear from her eye.

"That's what you get for making me wait for so long."

"I didn't even know where the attic entrance was! Good thing one of your sisters came to my rescue." Nicole rolled her eyes at the last word.

Cassandra stopped laughing, eyes narrowing slightly. "Which one?"

"Uh- Danie-"

"Did she hurt you?" Cassandra grabbed her arms, golden eyes looking for any visible injuries.

Nicole just laughed softly, taken off guard by the display of concern. "No, no. Just gave me a bit of a fright, that's all."

With an eye roll, Cassandra guided her further into the attic, through more dusty rooms, until they reached a short corridor, light spilling from its other end. The room they entered was relatively small, almost half of it occupied by stacked boxes as if it used to be a storage room like the rest of the attic and nobody bothered to completely clear it out. A few pieces of furniture were also present: a couch with a coffee table in front of it and paintings leaning against a wall to collect dust. This room however had a window, left slightly ajar, that allowed you to see the mountains stretching on the horizon, crowned by the beautiful orange hues of dusk.

Nicole moved to the glass to take in the view, mouth almost hanging open, when an ungodly screech from outside made her backpedal straight into Cassandra.

"What the fuck was that?" She asked, eyes widening at the sight of flying creatures circling the towers.

"Mother's flying guard dogs."

"They sound the same way I'd imagine the souls of the damned do." Nicole didn’t take her eyes off the ghoulish creatures, almost as if keeping eye contact would dissuade them from attacking.

Cassandra just shrugged. "Wouldn't be too far off. Also here." She sat on the couch, gesturing towards a cup.

Nicole went to sit by her side, grabbing the mystery cup. She frowned slightly when the steam reached her nose, bringing with it a pleasant minty and honey aroma.

"Tea?"

"Since you were so disheartened about having to skip it earlier," Cassandra averted her eyes, seemingly finding the curtains very interesting.

After a long sip, she let out a content sigh. The warmth was more than welcomed, despite the weather. She set the cup back on the table and turned her attention on the brunette, now fidgeting with the corner of a pillow.

"Thank you," Nicole said, leaving a small kiss on her cheek.

Cassandra smiled and turned around, locking their lips in a kiss that at first mimicked her gentleness, but soon turned hungry when dainty hands made their way to the brunette's nape, pulling her closer. She shifted them both, pushing Nicole down on the pillows littering the couch, until she was laying on top of her, legs on each side of her waist. Her focus was on leaving a trail of nips and kisses down Nicole's neck when the redhead jumped and barely stifled a yelp at another screech from outside.

"Ugh what the fuck is today, scare me out of my mind day?"

"How are you scared of these but countless dead bodies don't phase you?" Cassandra laughed, sound muffled by her position with her mouth against Nicole's neck.

"I used to work on corpses, not on ugly gargoyles that could chew my face off!" She gestured wildly at the window and the few creatures visible outside.

"You what?"

"You...didn't know?" Nicole couldn't help a giggle at Cassandra's confused expression.

"How was I supposed to know?"

"I thought your mother told you already. Or your sisters," Nicole shrugged.

"They knew?!" And, after something seemed to dawn on her, "Oh I'm gonna kick both their asses."

Nicole couldn’t help letting out a small laugh, placing her hands on Cassandra's cheeks and, with a pout for dramatic effect, "Right now?"

As much as the sight was both funny and endearing, the warmth starting to pool at her core was making her beyond impatient.

The indignation in golden eyes was replaced by an all too familiar glint and black painted lips went back to their work on Nicole's neck. Sharp fangs pierced the skin there, just enough to draw a few drops of blood and a whine. After licking every last bit of it, Cassandra's lips moved to the collarbones and lower, hands slowly starting to undo the buttons of Nicole's pesky uniform that was in the way.

When both the button up and the skirt were discarded on the floor Nicole tangled her fingers through black hair and pulled Cassandra in for a kiss. Her free hand went to the back of the dress, pulling down the zipper and guiding it off of the brunette's shoulders. Once both of them were left only in undergarments, Nicole pulled back to look up at the brunette.

"If I knew I was supposed to dress up I would've asked the chambermaid if there's anything fancy in the uniform stash," she said, taking in the beautifully intricate lace of Cassandra's matching bra and underwear, complete with a giggle at her awful joking.

The brunette only raised an eyebrow. "Mhm I can take care of that. Not like you'll need these for long though." Her hands reached under Nicole's back to unclasp her bra and in mere moments that too was on top of the pile of clothes on the floor.

Then Cassandra bent down to crash their lips together, tongue slipping past Nicole's lips when a wandering hand elicited a gasp from her.

Cassandra was by no means a patient person. Quite the opposite actually. But teasingly dragging her nails across sensitive skin only to feel the girl under her squirm and whine when her hand just won't go where she needed it made waiting all the more sweet. Slender fingers started to toy with the edges of Nicole's underwear. After a groan against her lips and an impatient tug of hair, Cassandra finally gave in, slipping two fingers inside her. She felt Nicole arch into her, a broken moan escaping past her lips when she broke the kiss to let her head fall back into the cushions. Cassandra took that as an opportunity to kiss the length of her neck, occasionally stopping to suck or bite at a spot, enjoying every gasp and moan she drew out of the redhead.

With Cassandra's rough pace it didn't take long before Nicole was clenching her thighs around her hand. Cassandra kissed her, swallowing her moan as she came.

The small room in the attic, Cassandra's drawing room she would later find out, was the perfect secluded spot. They spent the rest of the evening enjoying each other. First evening of many.

[y0itsbri]

gallavich week 2021 - day 7 - meet ugly

thank you to @ianandmickeygallavich for the inspo // @gallavichthings

Prompt: Ian and Mickey are neighbors in an apartment complex. They haven’t ever interacted, but one day they get stuck the elevator. One of them doesn’t like confined spaces but doesn’t share this so the other one assumes he is freaking out for no reason.

Words: 3.5k

--

"I'm going out tonight, dickbreath!" Mandy announced, popping her head out of the bathroom. She was wearing a short sequined dress, fitted tightly to her body and only halfway zipped up so it slipped part way down her shoulders.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't!" Mickey called from his recliner in the living room with an Old Style in hand. Work has been absolutely kicking his ass this week and he wanted nothing more than a chill night in.

"Oh, c'mon, now that's no fun. You don't do anything," she accused.

"That's not true!" Mickey grumbled, remote in hand and flicking past some news channels onto some good shit -- finally. Rerun of Jurassic Park.

"What're your plans for the evening then, hot shot?" Mandy teased as she applied yet another layer of mascara on her already blackened eyelashes, "Dinosaur movies all night?"

"Might go to the corner store for some smokes."

"Please get something to eat while you're at it. We have like nothing in here." She waltzed to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door and grimaced. He could admit that a grocery run was, in fact, long overdue.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Serious, Mick." Mandy gave him the look. The Look being the same Look that his mother used to give him when he was being a little shit.

Fine. "Got it. I'll eat something." She smiled at that.

"Thank youuu," Mandy dragged the word out as she leaned over to kiss his forehead.

"Gross."

"Ditto. Zip me up?"

--

Mandy had headed out awhile ago -- long enough ago that Mickey was now halfway through his second 'dinosaur movie.' He should really visit his dinosaur guy again soon, he's probably got some cool new shit. Mickey sighed and got up, idling over to the kitchen.

He downed a full glass of water and opened the fridge. Yeah, unless he wanted to eat a pickle with ketchup and beer, he needed to go out. He debated ordering in, but he needed to go to the corner store anyways. Two birds one stone kind of situation.

Mickey threw on his favorite pair of sweatpants and his Davie Bowie tee shirt with the sleeves cut off. It was a good shirt. Mickey thought Bowie was hot -- fuckin' alien-looking, but hot, nonetheless.

Mickey shoved his wallet and phone in his pockets and locked up his apartment. Maybe Ernie would have the good roast beef sandwiches today.

His thoughts about dinner plans subsided as he noticed the guy waiting for the elevator.

Mickey had seen the ginger around. He was hard to miss -- fuckin' tall, always going out for runs early in the morning in short shorts and coming back all sweaty, always had a million fucking people coming and going from his apartment. They lived on opposite ends of the hall, but Mickey had never actually spoken to him before.

Mandy had given her brother lots of shit for acting so goddamn unapproachable and that's why he has no friends. Mickey didn't want to be friends with everyone, but he wouldn't mind spending some time with the hot red-head down the hall... eventually.

But he was waiting for the elevator with him right now. He couldn't bring himself to make eye contact in fear that it would lead to small talk which would then lead Mickey to inevitably embarrass himself. He couldn't blow his shot. Mandy did the small talk, not him. He took out his phone and scrolled through Instagram even though none of the photos were loading.

He hardly looked up when the elevator arrived and he stepped into it, leaving plenty of space between the two of them. Maybe it was an unreasonable amount of space, but it still wasn't enough for Mickey. He could still smell the guy's cologne. And it was infuriatingly attractive.

"Ground floor?" The man's voice practically sent heat down Mickey's spine. This was going to be a long ride.

"Uh, yeah." Nice, Mick. Not embarrassing at all.

"Great." It hung in the air, a tinge of awkwardness to it.

Out of the corner of his eye Mickey could see the the man leaning against the elevator wall, crossing his ankles as he not-so-subtly stared Mickey's direction.

Mickey was running out of things to check on the his phone and he was about to give in and finally make eye contact when he felt a shift. Then an ungodly clanging of metal. And a stop.

Fuck.

He glanced up at the dial. Sure enough they were stopped between floors, and not at all near the ground.

"The fuck?"

"What?" The red-head locked confused eyes with Mickey's.

"We're stopped. Why the fuck are we stopped?"

"Hm," The guy poked around at the open doors button and nothing happened. "I don't know."

All hopes of positive small talk was out the window as Mickey went into full panic mode. He did not like small, confined spaces -- which happened to be exactly what his current predicament entailed.

"You open the doors!" Mickey practically shrieked.

"Why me!?" The attractive guy spit back.

"You work out and shit -- do I look like I could pry those fuckers apart?"

"Well..." The red-head took a moment to size up Mickey's smaller form. "Yes, you do actually- but these doors are heavy as fuck. We don't have like super strength."

"Fuck you."

"Uh, fuck me!?"

"Yeah, fuck you. Not even tryin' and now we're both going to fuckin' die in here. Any last words, Red?"

He rolled his eyes. "We're not going to die. Don't you think you're being a little dramatic?"

"Don't you think you're being a little too calm considering we're stuck?"

"Oh. You're freaking out."

"No shit I'm freaking out, Sherlock." Mickey ran his hands down his face. This was not fucking happening to him right now.

"Hey, take deep breaths."

"Can't. Gonna die." Mickey gasped.

"Well, if you can't breathe, you're definitely going to pass out."

Mickey shot him panicked eyes.

"Hey, hey it's okay. Just look at me."

Mickey could do that.

"Copy me. In-" He inhaled, chest expanding.

"Out-" Mickey felt his breath on his face. In any circumstance, a stranger breathing on him would warrant a punch in the gut, but now it was more grounding than anything else. They repeated that motion a few times.

"Good. See, you can breath."

"What are you? A fuckin' doctor?" Mickey huffed a laugh in disbelief.

"Been to enough," he chuckled.

"Huh?"

"Never mind. But, uh- look, see, I'll hit the emergency button and someone will come get us soon. It'll be okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm positive. Got stuck in one of these with my sister when I was little, kinda scary at first but we were out in practically no time. She sang to me to pass the time, but I take it you don't want me to sing to you?"

That earned a full-bellied laugh from Mickey, "Not yet."

The man grinned goofily like a golden retriever.

They were silent for a moment.

"So, uh, what's your name?" The red-head asked, gazing curiously at Mickey.

Mickey just stared back at him.

"Your name?" He repeated gently.

"Mickey."

"Mickey," He said it so soft like a prayer. "I like it. I'm Ian."

He had no idea what he expected, but it wasn't Ian. Ian was fitting, though. Ian was good.

--

Ian had hit the emergency button a few times for good measure while Mickey had tried to call Mandy to no success. They settled onto the floor, leaning against opposite walls, feet nearly colliding in the center. Neither made a move to completely avoid that.

After Mickey had calmed down a bit, they fell into bouts of comfortable conversation and comfortable silence.

"I thought you just hated me." Ian mumbled after a bit.

"What I hate is being trapped here." Mickey stared at the walls threatening to enclose around them. He closed his eyes so he didn't start to panic again.

"Even before this."

"Oh?" That was news to Mickey. That was never his intent.

"Yeah, I always see you around, but you never seem to see me." Ian looked to the ground when he said it.

"I've seen ya plenty. You're the dork with the short ass shorts."

Ian smirked, "I guess I am."

"Hard to miss, man."

"You too. I've wanted to say hi for like months, but you always looked like you were ready to snap me in half or something. I kinda like my limbs in tact."

Mickey swiped his thumb against his nose and sniffed, embarrassed, "Sister says I scare everyone away. Used to be a good thing."

"Sister... wait, wait, wait, hold up. You're Mandy's brother, aren't you?"

"You know Mandy? Oh god, you're not banging her, are you?" That would throw a wrench in his plans.

"Oh god, no!" Ian threw his hands up in a mock surrender like that was the most repulsive thing he's ever heard.

"Something wrong with my sister?" Mickey grew defensive. She may be a lot to handle at times, but she was still his sister.

"No, no, she's great! 'm just not into... well, uh- I'm- let's just say that if you had a brother, maybe I'd be banging him." He grimaced.

Watching Ian stumble over his words after being so confident about everything else was a bit amusing.

"Oh -- cool." Mickey wasn't used to such obvious disclosures about sexuality with strangers.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Mickey avoided all eye contact.

"So?"

Ian paused until Mickey was able to look at him again.

"So, what?"

"Do you have any brothers?" A playful flicker in Ian's eyes made it obvious that he was just being a little shit now.

"You're an idiot."

"Maybe so, but that doesn't answer my question still."

"Yeah, I have brothers, but they'd uh- let's just say definitely not be into that."

"And you're... not not into that?"

Mickey rolled his eyes. His lack of denial was basically a confession and they both knew it.

Ian smirked and knocked the toes of their shoes together.

--

Help announced itself to be coming soon over the tiny intercom embedded in the elevator. Sometime shortly after that, Ian had made his way over to the wall next to Mickey's, rather than across.

"Where were you going tonight?" Ian asked, turning to fully face Mickey.

"Nowhere." Nowhere interesting at least.

"Really? So you just take an elevator down to nowhere?"

"Alright, smart ass, I needed to get dinner. Gonna be a late dinner now that's for sure, fuckin' starving."

"Shit."

"What about you? Got a hot date or something?" Mickey eyed him up and down. Ian's outfit wasn't fancy by any means, but he still looked damn good in it.

"Oh, I wish," he winked, "Just going on a walk to clear my head. But this is working just as well."

"Good for you, man. My head is fuller than ever."

"What're you thinking about?" Ian's heavy breath practically bounced off his face. His gaze flickered to Ian's pouting lips. This was ridiculous.

Kissing you. Kissing you. Kissing you. "Nothing."

"Riiiight." Ian's eyes mimicked the same trail that Mickey's had just followed.

"Yup."

Ian scooted closer to Mickey and he swore his heart was beating so loud that even Ian could hear it. If he could, he made no indication. Instead, he eyed Mickey's hand resting on the floor. Gently, careful not to spook him, he caressed Mickey's fingers, nearing his tattooed knuckles.

Mickey fought the urge to yank his hand away. No one ever touched him so delicately, so sweetly. He figured that Ian would have guessed that, seeing his crude tattoos, but he wasn't acting like this was strange. So Mickey let him.

"Fuckin' hate them." Mickey murmured, watching Ian's fingertips tracing over the back of his hand.

Ian frowned.

"The tattoos."

"They're you. I'm sure they have a story."

"Wish I could forget it."

"If it makes you feel any better, I have a pair of tits on my shoulder."

"Ex-fucking-cuse me?!" Mickey pictured literal tits growing out of the man's back.

"Here, look," Ian turned, pulling his shirt up, revealing an insanely toned and insanely freckled back. Surely he was not about to be flashed in an elevator. But sure enough, tattooed on his shoulder was a pair of double-D's.

"Shit! Dude, what the fuck is up with that?" Mickey laughed.

Yeah, this made him feel better. At least he didn't have fucking titties tattooed on his knuckles, though he was sure someone in his family must have something like that. They're fucking idiots like that. Like Ian, apparently. But Ian was good.

"It was supposed to be my mom." Ian winced, pulling his shirt back down to cover it again.

"Mom must've been a banger." Mickey joked, still hardly containing his laughter.

"Ugh," Ian groaned dramatically. "Never gonna live that one down."

He threw his hands back on the ground, near Mickey's but not touching this time.

Experimentally and slowly, so slowly, Mickey hooked his fingers with Ian's and rubbed his thumb against Ian's hand. It was calloused, but so soft. It was a movement so gentle he hardly recognized himself, completely contradictory to the message literally written across his hands.

He was practically holding hands with a man in an elevator. Oh, if dear dad could see him now.

Moving out of his hell house with Mandy had been a good step, but it had taken Mickey years to unlearn his self-hate, allow himself to be. He still wasn't perfect, and he still felt years behind. But with Ian, it felt normal. It felt right and warm.

Right then, he felt the elevator shift again. He tightened his grip on Ian's hand. Ian returned the hold. If he was going to die, at least he wasn't going to die alone.

Mickey realized that they weren't falling down, but rather moving upwards.

They released their hands and leapt up to their feet as the door dinged open, revealing a small staff of maintenance personnel, not looking at all concerned that two men had just been trapped inside for an unspecified amount of time.

"Fuckin' finally!" Mickey ran out. He resisted the urge to drop to the floor and kiss the ground. He was dramatic, but he wasn't that dramatic.

Ian thanked the maintenance people then hurried along beside Mickey. They weren't on their floor, but they sure as hell weren't about to take the elevator again after all that.

"Hey, Mickey, wanna come back to my place? I think I still have some leftover lasagna if you're still hungry."

Mickey checked the time. Yeah, Ernie's place was definitely closed by now. Plus he really did just want to go back to Ian's. He glanced up to see Ian in almost full puppy-dog eyes. The dork was needlessly persuasive, he'd give him that.

"Yeah, sure. I could eat." He grinned like an idiot.

Ian nodded his head towards the stairwell, holding the door open for Mickey, who obediently followed up the steps.

--

Ian's apartment wasn't too different than Mickey and Mandy's, mirrored and maybe smaller, but it looked oddly inviting and definitely way more lived in -- almost too much décor and family photos hung up around the space.

"Uh, make yourself comfortable," Ian called as he rummaged through the cabinets, grabbing a couple plates to reheat some food for Mickey and himself.

Mickey was no stranger to feigning confidence in unfamiliar locations, but this felt different, more genuine. He actually respected Ian, the man having been kind and patient with him in a less than ideal situation.

He sat himself on the barstool at Ian's countertop and watched him. The gorgeous man who he had been eyeing in secret for months, who had helped him through a small panic attack, who had held his hand and traced his tattoos like they were art. Like Mickey was art.

"So, Bowie, huh?" Ian leaned against the counter, waiting out the timer on the microwave.

"What?"

"Your shirt," he pointed, and Mickey looked down.

"Oh, yeah. He's cool as fuck. Dope music."

"Got great hair, too."

"You would think so."

"Self-love, baby."

"Good for you." But there was no edge in his voice.

Ian smiled. The microwave beeped and they settled in, eating together with nothing but the awkward clanging of silverware and chewing. Mickey was too fucking starving and too fucking tired to care about formalities to give a shit at this point.

"Bet you didn't think you'd spend your night eating lasagna with a David Bowie look-alike, huh?" Ian teased over a mouthful of pasta.

"You wish, man."

"Hey, it's at least a little true."

"Yeah, you're both fuckin' aliens."

"Maybe so, but at least we're hot."

They both smiled around their forks, glancing over at each other a little too frequently with nothing but fondness.

--

Ian collected their plates when they were done, taking them over to the sink to wash them later. Mickey got up and followed him into the center of the kitchen, still sipping on his beer before setting it on the counter to his right.

In a move that shocked Ian, and even himself, Mickey moved into Ian's space and pressed his chest against Ian's back. He wrapped his arms around Ian's waist, feeling up the plains and softness of his stomach, feeling his breath hitch and his heart beat faster. Mickey's warm breath bounced off of Ian's neck and back onto his own face.

Ian sighed and placed his hands over Mickey's again. He leaned his head back onto Mickey's shoulder for a moment before wiggling free from Mickey's grip enough to turn around and face him, carding one of his hands through Mickey's dark hair.

"Mickey." He said it so soft. With so much admiration. Mickey couldn't take it anymore. He leaned up and pulled Ian's head down so they were the same height.

"Fuck, c'mere," he murmured, lips practically touching Ian's with the words.

Ian pressed their lips together. For all his gentle touches throughout the night, his kiss was anything but. Like he needed him to breathe.

Ian pushed him backwards towards the living room, stumbling over each others' feet in the process. Mickey greedily pulled down on Ian's neck, desperate not to let him go. Ian smiled into it and dropped backwards onto the couch cushions, pulling Mickey on top of him, making out like dumb teenagers.

--

Eventually, they settled and Mickey rested his head on Ian's chest while Ian rubbed his back and head comfortingly. Truthfully, he was beginning to panic a bit. He hadn't liked anyone in awhile, and Ian was very hard to not like.

"Are you good?"

Fuckin' mind reader.

"I don't know." Smooth, Mick.

"You don't know what?" Ian probed gently.

Mickey sighed, "How to do this," he answered honestly. There was no point in lying to Ian.

Ian kissed Mickey's forehead, "We can do this any way you want, alright? No rush, no pressure."

"Yeah?"

"Absolutely," Ian scratched Mickey's head for a moment, "I've been waiting for you for awhile, Mick, I'll wait for however long you want."

Mickey leaned into his touch and then kissed his shoulder, "I want you, this."

"Me too." They smiled into each other. Safe together.

--

Neither made a move to push things further for the night. Ian had flicked on the tv to the same channel Mickey had on earlier, the Jurassic Park marathon still playing. After whatever movie was on now, Mickey decided he should head home. He was utterly exhausted after the day, and as much as he liked Ian, he didn't want to pass out in the guy's apartment -- though he was sure Ian wouldn't mind at this point, kind bastard.

After Ian had pulled Mickey into one last embrace, Mickey wretched open Ian's door, only to come face to face with his sister, makeup smudged and heels in hand after her night out.

She gasped way louder than fucking necessary, "You slut!"

"Shut the fuck up," he grumbled pushing past her to head back to his own apartment.

"See ya later, Mick!" Ian called down the hall. Mickey didn't respond, but Ian took no offense. To be fair, he had just been caught red-handed by his very dramatic bitch of a sister.

Mandy grinned and looked between Mickey's retreating form and Ian's blushing face. "Oh my god, Ian! I knew it!"

"Hi, Mands." He ducked his head, scratching the back of his neck.

She gave a cheeky, knowing wave goodbye and took off barefoot after Mickey, "You fucker! I want all the details!"

"You ain't gettin' 'em, bitch!" He stormed inside, but left the door open for her behind him.

Mandy threw her shoes on the floor and met up with him in the kitchen, punching his arm lazily so he spilled his newly-opened beer down his hand. "The fuck?!"

"I'm so proud of you!" She made grabby hands at Mickey in attempts to smush his cheeks, but he weaseled out of there quick enough to avoid her gross hands. She may be fuckin' drunk, but she was still quick.

"Yeah, will well ya stop screaming it from the rooftops. Ian's gonna think I'm a fuckin' loser."

"Awww," She chased after him as he headed down the hall, "You are a loser, but that's besides the point! I've been waiting for this for weeks!"

"Night!" Mickey shut his bedroom door in Mandy's face. She'd get over it in a minute. Hell she was probably well on her way to passing out already. Maybe she'd get some details out of him tomorrow.

But tonight -- he reveled in the fact that he spent the night making out with his very kind, very dorky, very hot red-headed neighbor.

--

And when Mandy eventually moved out from their apartment and in with her girlfriend, Mickey had absolutely no problem finding a new red-headed roommate.

[ssamie]

eleven. “get your girl!”

kozume kenma x fem dazai!reader

(bsd x hq)

tw: mentions of suicide

masterlist.     suicide freak!

"was our sleepover fun, kenma-kun?" she chirped

"no. your place had suicidal traps and schemes littered all around" kenma sighed

she laughed at him as he continued to put on his shoes. kenma was forced to stay with her last night as per her request. and, of course, true to her word, they had loads of fun.

"it wasn't that bad" she pouted playfully

"there was a toaster in your bathtub, so i couldn't take a proper bath. and the only 'food' you have is a bottle of muriatic acid and candy" kenma deadpanned

"hey, i offered to feed you a full course meal!" she defended

"y-your body does not count!" kenma argued back. a faint pink hue was sploched on his cheeks as he refused to look at her.

"well whatever, let's go meet the others before we head out" she said. as the pair made their way to the agency's office, atsushi was already there along with kunikida. kenji was sleeping while ranpo was just munching on his snacks, like usual.

"good morning!" she chirped out in a la-di-da tone

"good morning, y/n-san" atsushi greeted back with a warm smile

"goomorwing" ranpo mumbled back, though it was muffled by the snacks in his mouth

"hehe, kunikida-kun~" she cooed out "were gonna head out now, kunikida-kun! we're borrowing your wallet for some pancakes on the way~"

kunikida clicked his tounge and stood up from his chair. he stomped over to her and snatched the wallet that somehow made its way into her hands. "no way in hell, you bandage-squandering-machine!" kunikida exclaimed

kenma simply stretched his arm out for her to fall onto as she dramatically screamed and stumbled back  "agh!" she exclaimed as she recoiled into an unamused kenma's chest

"n-nice nickname there, kunikida-kun" she let out a strained laugh "that stung... just a little"

"tch, if you got so much time wandering around then you might as well write a report about your capture by the port mafia" kunikida said

she chuckled lowly and spun around, only to be found sporting a serious and aloof expression "atsushi-kun." she called out

"yes?" atsushi perked up, his dual-toned eyes sparkling with determination

"write the report for me." she commanded in a serious tone

"hah?" atsushi huffed out

"well then, kenma-kun and i will be going! bye-bye~" she cooed as she waved them goodbye. kenma waved at them as they stepped out of the agency's office.

"oi! you better be back here after school, brat!" kunikida shouted. though his words were faint since they were already running off.

"well then, ready for school kenma?" she cooed

"no, i just wanna relax" kenma grumbled

"wasn't last night enough relaxation, pudding?" she mused with a sly smirk

"no, it wasn't" kenma shuddered "i told you i wasn't down to have ˢᵉˣ and yet-"

"oh, look at that! isn't that chuuya~" she cut him off with a playful grin "it seems he's not alone, akutagawa-kun is looking real tall compared to him" she hummed

by now kenma was just confused, frustrated and lowkey scared. "literally what?" he muttered "akutagawa..?" kenma muttered. "wait- isn't that the port mafia guy in the news?!" he whisper shouted

"he's still coughing up his lung like its no one's business" she chuckled as she waved her hand around "that boy really needs to invest in an inhaler or something.. or maybe some water will do.." she muttered to herself

kenma chose to ignore her as he simply tugged her arm and ran away towards the station. they scurried away all while trying not to be seen by the two men. "are you crazy?! weren't those the guys that took you?" kenma whisper shouted

"i remember you mentioning an akutagawa last night" he sighed "and not to mention that chuuya guy was there too."

"they're harmless" she reassured with a smile

"they're in the port mafia." kenma deadpanned "actually, can we please discuss the fact that you're affiliated with the mafia-"

"no." she said with a smile

"anyways, we should go.. nekomata-san said something about cleaning out the gym lockers"

kenma gaped at her as she started walking further, leaving him behind. all while sporting that goofy grin, acting as if she didn't just come across two mafiosos.

"fine, whatever.."

"what happened to you yesterday , y/n-senpai?" lev asked with a small smile

"oh nothing, lev" she chuckled dismissively "i just had a psychic tell me that if i jumped into the river near the village, my death would be guaranteed." she hummed out with a nod “so i decided to try it out" she grinned

"woah!! so did it work?" lev asked back

"lev you fucking idiot" yaku sighed

kuroo watched them and laughed along, leaving lev to fend for himself as yaku kicked his back. kuroo nudged kenma with his elbow, smirking suggestively as he wiggles his brows

"what kuroo." kenma sighed "soo.. how'd it go with your lady? hm?" kuroo grinned teasingly

kenma flushed a bright pink and buried his face into the collars of his jacket, so only his eyes could be seen. "i-it was.. yeah-" he stammered

"oya oya~ what's this supposed to mean?" kuroo sneered

"it means kenma here is a real treat in be-" she was cut off as kenma slapped her with the mop "no!" kenma shrieked flusteredly "were going away now!" was the only thing he said before dragging the girl into the lockerooms

"WHAT THE HELLSNKAKAJA" the team laughed and hollered as kuroo burst out into his hyena cackle

"wow kenma! you could've killed me with that mop" she laughed "do it again!"

"KYANMA IS ALL GROWN UP NOW!" kuroo laugh-cried "KYANMAAA HOW COULD YOU?! I WAS GONNA MARRY Y/N-CHAANN" yamamoto cried out

"stop teasing him guys, he'll get mad" kai sweatdropped as he tried to ease the team down

"yeah...so how's it feel to be one-upped by your best friend, mr.chemistry nerd?" yaku sneered as he held in his laughs

kuroo immediately stopped laughing as he sent yaku an unamused glare "HAH?! SHUT UP YOU GENETIC ANOMALY!" kuroo yelled at him

completely ignoring their loud voices, kenma and y/n arrived in the lockeroom and proceeded with the cleaning "i can't believe that just happened" kenma shook his head disappointingly

she chuckled and patted his back as they started cleaning out the lockers. "aww, don't be so down kenma-kun" she cooed

"i'll help you clean the lockers if that makes you feel better" she said as she hugged him from behind

"stop hugging me" kenma hissed at her "and that doesn't make me feel better because it's your job in the first place"

"anyways, look at lev's locker!" she said with an innocent whistle as she opened the locker.

"oya oya" she mumbled "lev is truly adorable.. but kind of.. strange, per say"

"what is it?" kenma asked. she snickered and pulled out an ungodly amount of cat food packed in tupperwares.

"what the hell." kenma sweat dropped "does he eat that or something?" kenma muttered while scrunching up his face

"i'd hope not, but let's leave this here" she chuckled "any ways.. how about checking out my locker?" she suggested with a smile as she skipped over to the locker in the furthest row

"aren't you curious to see what's in my locker, kenma-kun?" she cooed tauntingly

kenma sighed but followed her anyways "sure. part of me is, part of me isn't" he said

"here we go.." she paused dramatically as she pulled on the handle "tada!" she exclaimed as she slammed it open, presenting him a noose tied to a piece of wood which was stuck at the top.

"what the hell?!" kenma shrieked

"its a y/n-style suicide corner locker!" she announced excitedly

"i thought so, but that's creepy!" kenma exclaimed "not even the lockers are suicide-free"

"why?" kenma grumbled

"well you see, it's actually very convenient" she said "tip it over once you're done, and it instantly turns into a coffin!" she giggled menicingly

kenma sighed as he eyed her locker and her awfully enthusiastic grin. "please don't try to sell it to me like some time-saving product" he said

she then huffed out a breath of air and slyly smirked as she pushed the locker close "geez, im getting bored.. aren't you, kenma?" she said with an exaggerated sigh

"you show off your locker and now you're content?!" kenma scoffed in disbelief

she grinned mischievously and skipped away "why don't we ditch this place and go have some ramen?" she proposed

"we just got here like two hours ago" kenma said "and im pretty sure nekomata-san won't let us go just like that"

"aw, cmon! come with me, kenma-kun~ i wanna eat with you~" she whined out

"fine, fine" kenma groaned "just cover for me if i end up getting scolded"

"of course!" she beamed at him. she then threw away the unused cleaning supplies, confidently striding out the door, leaving the locker room as dirty as it was before

"oya oya~ did you have fun in there?" kuroo asked teasingly

"yup!" she replied "in fact, we had so much fun that we decided to expand our dopamine-inducing activities all the way into the ramen shop downtown!"

the team sweat dropped as she started shamelessly marching off to the gym's exit, dragging along kenma, who now had his nose buried in his game

"wait, y/n-san" nekomata stopped her. she froze mid step and slowly turned back around, sending the coach a nervous smile "yes?" she asked

"before you go, we need to discuss a few things for future tournaments" nekomata said "were gonna need some new tactics, so maybe you can suggest something?" he said

"hmm, i'll do some research later on" she hummed out

"but we're gonna be playing against fukurodani and nohebi then right?" shibayama chimed in "oooh~ i've never heard of this 'nohebi' you speak of" she cooed out in amusement

"i would've guessed" kuroo said "daisho's face would be enough to kill you, it's crazy!" he chuckled

y/n's eyes glimmered as she shook kenma's shoulders excitedly "seriously?!"

"no, and that was supposed to be a bad thing" kuroo chuckled, a fond smile resting on his lips as he watched her deflate at his words

"oh, i've got it!" she piped up "i know what we should do!" she smirked up at the team, her eyes basically sparkling as she looked at them as if she held all the answers in the world.

"let's just give up and die" she exclaimed

nekoma looked at her with blank smiles, nodding along as her confident smile never leaves her lips "let's not do that" nekomata butted in "instead, we need to practice more"

"so kenma, y/n.. since you two are going out anyways, go ahead and buy the team some snacks when you return"

while nodding enthusiastically, she practically bolted out of the gym, dragging kenma along by his collar like a cat

"y/n, let go of me" kenma grumbled as he struggled to play his game

she simply ignored him and took one of his hands anyway. she intertwined their fingers while she swings their arms back and forth

"i lost" kenma sighed in defeat as he pocketed his phone he looked down at their hands and smiled, letting her swing their arms around like a child while she sings some strange 'suicide song'

"are you sure you're supposed to be wandering around after what happened to you?" kenma asked "i mean, i didn't believe you at first about the mafia thing, but obviously you weren't lying.."

she chuckled and shook her head "oh please" she sneered "what do you expect is gonna happen? you really think they'd approach me in broad daylight-"

she cut herself off as she saw chuuya and akutagawa walking towards their direction

"nevermind. they are indeed approaching me in broad daylight"

kenma didn't react much, but his hand squeezed hers tighter and he ducked his head down in a way of hiding himself. y/n glanced worriedly at him before meeting eyes with chuuya

"kenma, is running from mafiosos perhaps listed in your bucket list?" she asked playfully

"no.. why-"

"well then cross that shit off because we're gonna need to run"

"i wanna go back" kenma panted out "all this running isn't good for my teenager body" he whined

"we ran like three blocks, kenma" she laughed softly

"thats too much" he pouted

they finally arrived at their initial destination, the ramen shop which they planned to eat at. "im so tired" kenma muttered as he rested his head on the table. while, across from him, y/n was sat, playing with the ends of his faux blond hair while she waits for their food to arrive

"ma'am, sir, here's your food!" the waitress announced as she stands before them, holding a tray of two ramens

"thank you, belladonna~" y/n cooed at her, making the girl giggle

"damn. didn't know girls like her were your type" kenma commented as he loudly slurps at his noodles. he narrowed his eyes at her, grumbling to himself while y/n unbotherdly eats her food

"well, i like all women kenma-kun" she said "but she, especially, looked like someone to agree on a double suicide"

"what about men." he asked

"it depends" she shrugged "for example, you would probably never say yes to a double suicide proposal.."

"but i bear with it because you're cute <3"

"oh okay."

a wave of comfortable silence washed over them as they continued eating, with y/n blurting out jokes here and then

"kenma-kun.." she suddenly piped up, her tone was guarded, almost as if she was on edge "yes..?" kenma answered back hesitantly

"it seems there's something inevitable in my agenda" she sighed

"huh? what is it?" kenma asked worriedly

she then stood up and smiled sheepishly at him "i gotta go to the bathroom!" she exclaimed. kenma deadpanned, though he sighed in relief as he watched her make her way to the comfort room

just as he was about to pull out his phone, somebody had cleared their throat. well, it was more like coughing for half a minute straight, but let's not get into that.

"so it's you." akutagawa muttered in a low tone

"um.. can i help you.." kenma muttered back nervously

he gulped as he fiddled with his twitching hands. it was no mistaking that the man dressed in all black was akutagawa himself. he's made quite a name for himself after appearing in quite a few news articles and headlines.

"i don't get what y/n-san sees in you" akutagawa scoffed

kenma furrowed his brows but didn't say anything back. his glare alone was enough to leave him shaking in displeasure and anxiety. kenma could feel akutagawa's hatred, anger, and jealousy practically eating at him.

"tch. first that wretched tiger, and now you. as far as my respect goes for her, this is just sad." akutagawa said with a scowl "her standards in subordinates and companions have gone down the drain." akutagawa sighed

kenma took in a breath of air and opened his mouth to speak. "um.. are you-"

"dont speak to me, you pest" akutagawa snarled at him "your existence is not only a disgrace to society, but your presence around me is displeasing and disgusts me to the core."

kenma didn't speak after that. why would he? this actual criminal just called him a pest and a disgrace, after all.

in all honesty, all kenma could think about was:

'what is with that vocabulary?'

"oh my, couldn't you tell this was the ladies bathroom?" she chuckled as she made eye contact with chuuya through the mirror "or were you too short to see the sign?" she teased

chuuya scoffed and locked the bathroom doors, making sure no one was inside and that no one could enter.

"what do you want, chuuya?" she asked, her bubbly smile dropping as she leaned back against the sink

"isn't it obvious?" chuuya replied

"no not really" she shrugged, laughing under her breath as she eyes him suggestively "is it because you wanna make out? go for a quickie? or-"

"SHUT UP! as if i'd wanna do that with you!" chuuya yelled at her

"oh please, you act as if i'd want to as well" she scoffed "the only thing i actually like about you is maybe your taste in shoes" she hummed

chuuya blinked dumbfoundedly at her words, as he looked down to inspect his shoes. "you think?" he muttered quietly

"just kidding, ofcourse" she sneered

"you-!" chuuya yelled in aggravation as he went in to kick her head, but sadly missed as she ducked down

"give it up" she sighed "just tell me what you want and let's leave each other be" she said

chuuya clicked his tongue and pulled out a back envelope sealed with wax. "boss wants to give you this." he said, handing her the envelope "said something about claiming back your place as executive"

she smiled in amusement as she inspected the paper. "is that so.." she trailed off. she turned around to turn the tap on, letting the water run as she placed the envelope under it, letting it soak and slowly break away.

"well, tell mori-san that i appreciate the welcoming invitation, but i'd have to say no" she said

chuuya's eye twitched at her answer, feeling himself feel dissatisfied and angered. "tch, what the hell, asshole?" chuuya exclaimed as he grabbed her by the collar of her nekoma uniform

"oya? is something wrong, chuuya?" she asked calmly

"why won't you come back?! you're gonna waste your damn life rotting away in that agency!" he exclaimed with gritted teeth "you'll have everything back in the mafia! why won't you come back!"

"we can be partners again!"

she didn't answer, but simply stood still, letting him crumple her shirt in his balled fists as he let out ragged breaths. the sound of the still running water filled the air.

"chuuya.."

she sighed and pried his hands off of her, turning around to turn off the faucet before facing him once again. "i joined the agency in accordance to a dear friend's advice." she said "i was told i'd find a my reason to keep living, and more so the path to clear my mind of evil and good."

"being with you again would most definitely be wonderful"

chuuya looked up at her, his throat drying up as he watched her take off a small golden star pin from her school tie. he didn't stop her as she started placing it on his coat. nor did he stop her when she placed a small kiss on the back of his hand.

"but maybe in another life, we could be partners once more" she chuckled

"that pin suits you" she said "it matches with your hair. keep it on, alright?"

it was all she said before walking off, opening the door and closing it behind her, leaving him alone with the faint sounds of dripping water. chuuya looked in the mirror, fiddling with the pin with his hands.

"tch. another life, my ass" he scowled, wiping off the tears that brimmed his eyes

"why the hell do i have to wait that long?"

as she stepped out of the comfort room, she walked back to the table she and kenma were sitting at, only to find him literally itching to run off. as kenma made eye contact with her, he immediately grabbed her arm and pulled her out the door

"woah woah! calm your horses, pudding" she chuckled "what's wrong?"

"what's wrong is the fact that akutagawa came up to me and literally started degrading and insulting me???" he exclaimed

"what?" she asked with furrowed brows

"he was badmouthing me with really deep words and insults! like, i didn't even know what some of the words meant.." kenma grumbled "im so glad he left after like five minutes"

"also, what took you so long?" kenma asked her "i got caught up in a conversation with an old friend, that's all" she answered nonchalantly

"right.." kenma nodded, though he wasn't convinced. he took notice of her crinkled shirt and collar, as well as the lone pin that she always wears, which was now missing.

"y/n? can we just go back please?" kenma pleaded

"of course, kenma" she said with a smile "im sorry you had to deal with akutagawa-kun"

"its fine.. i just wanna go back" he said in a dismissive tone

the walk back to nekoma was quiet. they had stopped by a nearby gas station for some snacks to give to the boys, but other than that, no one really talked.

"im gonna ask kuroo something" kenma said before he walked off

she simply nodded with a raised brow as she watched the pudding head march up to his best friend

"y/n-senpai!" inouka called for her. shaking her head, she disregarded kenma and rushed over to the first years.

"kuroo, i need advice." kenma blurted out "oya oya? what kind of advice?" kuroo asked back

"the y/n kind" kenma groaned

"we went out to eat but at some point she went to the bathroom.." kenma started

"i asked her why she took so long, and she told me she talked to a friend. but im pretty sure it's that chuuya person"

kuroo crossed his arms as he looked at his friend questioningly "what makes you say that?" he asked

"we ran into him for a quick moment, then i saw the guy with him at the ramen shop" kenma answered vaguely

"well.. i dunno much about what happened but.." kuroo trailed off "i think theres really only one thing you could do" the bedhead captain said

"and that is?"

"confess your feelings, duh!" kuroo whisper shouted

"i-i don't have feelings for her!" kenma whisper shouted back

"you did not just say that, oh my fucking god" kuroo groaned out in aggravation "you're literally asking me for love advice because you got jealous over an old acquaintance of hers" kuroo deadpanned

"i never said i was jealous.." kenma muttered sheepishly "you don't need to say it, i could already tell" kuroo laughed at him "but seriously, kenma.." kuroo mused, a huge grin creeping up onto his lips as he slapped his hand on kenma's back

"go get your girl!"

[hopefuljoon]

BST: Chapter 1

A/N: Hi! Welcome! This is my first long fickie for BTS. I hope you enjoy. Here’s a little something of MC’s room that I had taken inspiration from. Sorry about the weird image spacing  + credits to the owner of the image I couldn’t find, contact me if its your image, thank you!

It was 3:27 AM in the morning when you suddenly woke up, screaming, the sweats beading against your forehead still prominent. You sat upright and fisted the sheets as you gasp for air, feeling more breathless than ever. By then, your eyes had readjusted to accommodate the darkness that surrounds your room. It wasn't unusual for nightmares to occur after the event from two years ago. The looks on your mother and father's faces as they gave up their lives for you still linger as you close your eyes, willing for it to disappear. Not a second later, Yoongi and his consigliere pushed the door aside and barged into your room, white faces laced with worry.

"The same one?" Yoongi asks softly, careful to not startle you. Upon hearing his voice, you slowly turned to him, eyes brimming with unshed tears. Had his attention not have been entirely focused on you, he'd have missed your head nodding ever so gently.

He cautiously and quietly approached you then sat down on your bed with his consigliere trailing close behind. He inches his way up to your bed until he was close enough to affectionately caress your head. His smile begins to manifest as soon as he took notice of the way your eyes widen slightly before you closed your eyes and nuzzled into the safe reality that was his hand.

You retracted back and glanced up at your brother before managing a hoarse "thank you" as you noticed the 6 different pairs of eyes trained on the both of you. Yoongi must have known what you were thinking from the looks of your eyes as he said, "They care about you just as much as I do". When he finished, he turned back and nodded once to his consigliere in gratitude.

Your eyes flicker from the back of your brother's head to the 6 pairs of eyes staring worriedly into yours. Your gaze infinitely softens as you lower your eyes down from the attention they were giving you. The sound of waves crashing against the shore created a comforting blanket of silence as you looked out the window before turning back to them with a soft smile and a light dust of pink that coated your cheeks before saying, "I'm sorry for waking you all at such 'ungodly' hour of the night". Half of the members snickers while the other half returned soft smiles of their own. Time slowly passed before one of the member disrupted the comforting silence.

"Princess, you know we don't mind", Seokjin says kindly as your eyes returned to his. He was wearing a light pink Gucci pajama set that you had gifted him last Christmas when he told you that pink was his favorite color. To you, he wasn't part of your brother's consigliere who killed thousands, if not millions, but a family member who you have come to love besides the other members. His personality and love for cooking painted him far off from the idealistic mafia image of the top gang in Seoul. You returned his kind gaze before Yoongi was ushering his men single-file out of your room to return to their respective home that was connected to the main house where you and Yoongi resided. Some members, specifically Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook, yawned and rubbed their eyes sleepily. So much for your mafia profile, you thought and laughed quietly to yourself.

When Yoongi was nearly out the door, he heard a quiet plead from you that he made out to be, "Can you...stay with me until I fall asleep?". He was grateful that the members had listened and returned to their home due to fatigue from the work they had done earlier otherwise he could foresee that they would all want to come sleep in your room to comfort you. He scoffed before rolling his eyes as he reentered the room, closed the door behind him before approaching you again.

"Y/n, there is nothing to be afraid of. I am here", he said as he took on the sofa near your bed that allowed him to glance out the window at the ocean. Your eyes trailed along with your brother until he sat down comfortably then you slowly eased yourself back under the warm and inviting cover.

Before long, he heard your breathing evening out and light snores can be heard throughout the room with the tides crashing against the sand in the background. He smiled to himself while looking down at the book held open in his hand but frown when he realized that he and his men had work to do tomorrow: clean up and get rid of the tracks from the useless and clumsy lower raking members whose lives were cut short earlier today as a result.

Little did you know that he had comfortably fell asleep in the upright position holding a book in his hand, smile content on his face as he was sure you were in safe proximity for as long as he's around.

When you woke up again, the time had only passed for an hour and a half. You were tired of attempting to go back to sleep. It had been the 3rd time tonight so you decided to sneak out of your own room to not awaken your brother who was softly snoozing away as to not give a single care in the world. Carefully getting out of bed, you put on your grey bunny indoor slipper that you had left there earlier. Your gaze filters back to the soft-looking-while-resting Yoongi and lingers there for awhile until you decided to exit your room, gently closing your door on your way out.

You slowly descended the cold marble stairs of your grand mansion before turning left to enter the open kitchen. Everything looked clean as usual because there was never enough time for you to spend with your brother and his consigliere who you have come to regard as your own family. They were often away on dangerous jobs, running errands, or doing dirty work that Yoongi had assigned. None were forced work, of course. Everyone had their respective jobs and roles in order for the gang to run smoothly and rose to the top to where they are today.

You began tiptoeing around your kitchen as you nervously grab around for pans and flowers, hoping to not make a sound to disturb your sleeping family. You figured they didn't get as much sleep prior to waking up and coming in to check on you because they came home terribly late. Doing what, you had no idea but you figured it had involved blood and murder this time because the smell of metal was so potent when you woken up, startled, the first roll of the never-ending nightmare beginning to play in your mind that night. You had been sick with worried if it was any of your family's blood but had not seen any cuts or bruises when they barged into your room in the early hours. By now, the smell and tracks of blood was gone because the private cleaning company Yoongi has bought up, had been here just minutes after Yoongi and his consigliere arrived home. Your mind returned to the task at hand which you were set on making simple but loving breakfast of pancakes to show your love and appreciation for your family. After all, each and every one of the member had, without fail, woken up to check on you whenever you had nightmares that shook you to your core. They had never once complained, only replying that no harm can come near you for as long as they are around.

You opened up the iPad that was charging on the kitchen counters and searched for fluffy pancake recipes. When you had finally found one you think was going to be delicious, you began to work on: putting the flower in the mixing bowl, cracking eggs, spooning out a small amount of baking powder and sugar. You set to work on mixing the ingredients in the bowl and placed down to rest while you went to the electronics stove. Turning it on the low setting while placing a pan on top with butter for it to melt, you grabbed the mixing bowl before stirring it around again softly this time. Suddenly, you felt hands creeping around your waist before it rested there. Soon, you felt someone's chin rested on your right shoulder before they nuzzles into you, kissing your neck softly.

"You do realize...you don't have to do this, right babe?" Hoseok whispered out against your ear. You shivered and turned slowly around in his arms as he adjusted his hold on you again. The sight from afar made it looked so awfully domestic, it'd melt even the coldest heart. "I know but it's the least I could do" you rasped out against his chest before turning around, getting back to work on putting the mixture onto the warming pan.

Next

[whereconfusionisarhyme]

First Reactions To Logan’s Playlist

K first song let’s do this

White and Nerdy-Weird Al Yankovic

Wtf this song was definitely Joan’s idea I mean who else would think of ‘White and Nerdy’ for Logan

Is this like canon he listens to this stuff or like songs about him???

Not Perfect-Tim Minchin

TIM MINCHIN

Bo Burnham better be on Logan's playlist

#deep

Is this about the mindpalace/inside of Thomas’ head??? Cause like???? Ouch???? I think????

Lol nvm it’s not sad lmao

I take back my take back it is sad

So this could be literally “in his mind” or it could be figurative and it’s really messing with my funky flow

Streaks-ANIMA!

Cool instrumental

Love the voice sounds a little like MARINA and Regina Spektor

Oh no I’m two lines in and I can tell it’s gonna be sad

OH NO CONFORMITY RELATED ANGST AHHHHH

Wow Logan is just out here being relatable isn’t he smh 😔👊

"Cause you're a smart kid, but you're still a kid" LOGAN REALLY BE OUT HERE BEING RELATABLE ON MAIN

The Elements-Tom Lehrer

Sounds like what piano class would sound like if I took piano class

Something you would listen to in science class

Bop

Medicine-STRFCKR

A Fever You Can't Sweat Out vibes

Lmao nvm

Gonna go look up the lyrics rn brb

A sad bop

Philosophy cool

Human-Tank And The Bangas

Logan playing this to comfort himself because this singer is the only person who has ever told him this

WHO HURT LOGAN WITH THEIR WORDS

LOGAN THE HEART SKIPPING COMMENT ARE YOU OKAY IM GIVING YOU A HUG

GUYS LOGAN IS TRYING TO CONVINCE HIMSELF THAT HE MATTERS IM NOT OKAY

Last???? Relationship???

Okay I'm not a shipper BUT my theorist analysis obsessed brain is just SCREAMING about Roman and Patton

Observation: Logan is probably atheistic and this song covers God a lot. I don't have a conclusion or anything just pointing that out

This woman do be calming tho like yes I'm beautiful yes I'm special thank you

Okay so I already knew Logan wasn't okay but he 100% isn't okay

Fittet Happier-Radiohead

K two words in and I can tell this is gonna be sad here we go

Employees? Or maybe…other sides?

Minor key ok

SELF HARM ISNT OKAY

"WILL NOT CRY IN PUBLIC" NONONONO

So I heard of a good therapist just downtown-

The Watchtower-The Dø

I paused it cause I need a second after the last one

Guys as someone who dissosiates a lot I think Logan might be dissosiating

Dissosiating to protect himself from his emotions

Y'all just trust me in this one

Coming for the TØP brand I see

K ready to start again here we go

Fire beat I'm vibing with it

Is he trying to distance himself from his emotions to try and perform his tasks better like watching from a Watchtower???

This is the first character I've seen that might dissosiate which only means one thing

I'm gonna be projecting an unholy amount in my fanfiction

"No one in particular" hon who hurt you

City Lights=Emotions (which he considers distractions)??? Maybe??

I'm a William Finn fan come on this isn't my first rodeo

Art Is Dead-Bo Burnham

BO BURNHAM I WAS RIGHT

We all love some good Imposter Syndrome (tm)! :D

This gives Learning New Things About Ourselves' a whole new meaning

Ngl this is the first time I heard the degrading of the piano at the end and I'm here for it

In My Mind-Amanda Palmer

Oop we LOVE setting up impossible expectations for yourself to the point you have a cripplingly horrid self esteem! :D

Logan I've done this before and trust me it isn't worth it the mental breakdowns are too taxing

I'll do it when I'm older=I'm never gonna get around to it

I don't wanna be the person I wanna be either

Why do I perfectly understand every lyric am I ok

Live!!! While you!!!! Can!!!!

At least there's a happy ending

Okay so I've decided that once I'm done I'm gonna make a list of songs I think would fit in the playlist

Algorythym-Childish Gambino

K its spelled incorrectly get ready for some metaphors my dudes

Intro is cool definitely very very Logan WOAH OKAY CHAIN SMOKER

Gonna go look up lyrics I don't understand shit

The chorus sounds like Thanksgiving at my Aunt's house where like 100+ African American relatives blast house music and dance until their feet falls off

Nvm no it doesn't

GO OFF

ELPHABA BETTER WATCH OUT CHILDISH GAMBINO IS COMING FOR YOUR BELT

Adlibs are everything

Letter C-Zach Sherwin

This gives off the same vibes as that one pickle video by Charlie Puth

Roman vs Logan rap battle but it's this

I don't really see why this is related but sure

Time Adventure-The Marcus Hedgehog

Nostalgiaaaaaa

Okay Logan has too many songs talking about one (1) person who is it

I have a gut feeling that it's about Thomas and how Logan used to be enough "back then" but now he thinks he's not cause like let's be honest when was the last time someone gave Logan a strong sincere thank you for all that he does????Excluding DWIT (which doesn't really count in my opinion cause they said he was cool, not like an integral and arguably the most important and powerful side) nobody really appreciates Logan???? Hugs???

Anyway plz ignore this is just how my brain works

K next song

The Breach-clipping.

OKAY SLOW DOWN IM GONNA LOOK UP LYRICS

Is this Daveed Diggs???? I haven't listened to Hamilton in like forever is this Daveed Diggs???

LITERALLY PERFECY PARRALLEL TO LOGAN AND THE SIDES

Sound effects

Really just gonna fry my eardrums like that huh

What I Do For U-Ra Ra Riot

Okay scrap anything and everything I said about it being the sides Logan is 100% talking about Character!Thomas

Erase Me-Ben Folds Five

Ooh this intro reminds me of this one particular musical songs but I don't remember which one

Wait have I listened to this before????

I've listened to this before!

Okay I need to stop being distracted

NOOOOOO don't Erase Yourself!!!!

Logan really just do be having no Self Esteem don't he

Okay so theory: Logan didn't pop up in person in the last video because his eyes were too red from crying

I have 0 evidence so it's not a very good theory but…

Just throwing it out there

One More Time with Feeling-Regina Spektor

Oh no it's Regina Spektor

Oh no I'm gonna cry

Okay so Logan doesnt wanna block of all emotion, only permit some to show???? But most of the time block everything????

Did I get that???

Nobody!!!! Thanks!!!! Logan!!!!

Awww he just wants love and recognition

Tbh this sounds a lot like Roman they have so much in common despite their constant arguing

Galaxy Song-Monty Python

Ooh Monty Python

I haven't listened to Monty Python so I sadly don't know the context

Really just dissing all of the other sides aren't we

Can't really blame him tho

Very scientific

"Yeau~"

Sweet with dark undertones. Love it.

Equation-Hans Zimmer

Later I'm gonna check the equations if they're correct XD

Sunrise-In The Heights

!!!!!!

WHO???!!!!!

K to this is one of my favorite love songs ever it's just so sweet and as someone who's bilingual the concept is just amazingly wonderful so yeah I may be freaking out

Also because WHO??!!

Okay I said I wasn't a shipper but let's be honest this is probably about Roman not romantically but like

OR MAYBE JANUS???

IM SO CONFUSED

But Logan is definitely Nina in this situation it just fits so well with her character for the same reasons I really wanna play her (but never will cause I'm exactly 0% Latin American smh) yeah the pressures to be the smartest and then it backfiring horribly and oh God what if Inùtil is also in the playlist ahhhh

Okay moving on

Lifeboat-Heathers

WHAT

NO

NO

CONFORMITY RELATED ANGST LOGAN STOP BEING RELATABLE AHHHH

IS THIS CAPTAIN THOMAS??? THE OTHER SIDES AS A WHOLE??? AN ABSTRACT CONCEPT???

IM NOT OKAY

Bohemian Groove-Will Connolly

Okay I'm still not recovered from the last song but I need to continue or else I'm never gonna finish this playlist

Eeecccchhhhhoooo

Your friends haven't surpassed you Logan you belong with them okay????

Emptiness despite success??? Millennial who???

Vibing with it but also are you okay

Nvm I know the answer already

Hug All Ur Friends-Cavetown

Okay so Logan is a Cavetown gay noted

Self validation??? Who's she???

Lies. You care so much about what other people *sides* think about you

Maybe Logan listens to this song to remind himself to not care too much

But it doesn't work and it's getting to him more and more

Oh

That took a turn

Breathin'-Thomas Sanders

Good move

Don't really have much to say on this

The Bidding

Spoopy

Alchoholic!Logan

New idea for us fan writers

The pronunciation of beurgoise

Okay I'm like pretty certain at this point that all of the songs that mention a someone else is about Character!Thomas

A Better Version

OHMYGOD I LOVE THIS MUSICAL ITS SO UNDERRATED I HAVE LISTENED TO THE SOUNDTRACK AND UNGODLY AMOUNT OF TIMES YESSSSS

But also since I know the song in terrified cause the feels are gonna come in I just know it

Wait so is Jayce supposed to be Thomas???

I am suddenly feeling much more uncertain about my certainty

Okay let me unpause and just listen to it (even though I already know all of the lyrics)

Okay so I'm a dumbass and apparently this song isn't even part of the playlist

Okay so I'm an idiot and the last few songs have all been "related to playlist" and not in the actual playlist I'm big dumb.

Anyway here's my list of songs I think would fit. (BTW, I only went off of lyrics for these ones. I realize that there’s a general sound and vibe for the playlist, but I decided not to follow it.)

Oh No! ~ MARINA

Hug All Ur Friends ~ Cavetown

Bohemian Groove ~ Will Connolly

Guiltless ~ Dodie Clark

Lifeboat ~ Laurens O’Keefe

The Bidding ~ *idk who*

I Am Not A Robot ~ MARINA

Inútil - Lin Manuel Miranda

Through The Eyes Of A Child ~ AURORA

Community Gardens ~ The Scary Jokes

Let me know if I should do this with the other playlists as well! :)

[emeridians]

BST: Part 1 - Comforting Reality

BTS Mafia!au

(Eventual!OT7 x reader)

Summary:

Knowing every detail and living with your brother Yoongi (leader of the most vicious and powerful mafia gang, Yeonson, in Seoul) and his consigliere, you were often living life on its edges. The constant danger that surrounds you wants to devour you whole yet you fight on. After all, life is beautiful if only you choose to make it to be.

Pairing:

Eventual!OT7 x Reader ft. brother!Yoongi

Tags:

BTS mafia!au , fluff, eventual smut, awful domestic loving, mention of blood (just a little)

*There is NO incest despite “brother” Yoongs. Explanation will be in future stories.

Wordcount:

1.5k

A/N:

I have no actual clue as to what I’m writing. This is my first BTS fanfiction because I need to let out my pent up love and frustration for them. I’m bad at grammar and English in general so I’m sorry in advance. Enjoy 💜

———————————————༻❁༺———————————————

It was 3:27AM in the morning when you suddenly woke up, screaming, the sweats beading against your forehead still prominent. You sat upright and fisted the sheets as you gasps for air, feeling more breathless than ever. By then, your eyes had readjusted to accommodate the darkness that surrounds your room. It wasn't unusual for nightmares to occur after the event from two years ago. The looks on your mother and father's faces as they gave up their lives for you still linger as you close your eyes, willing for it to disappear. Not a second later, Yoongi and his consigliere pushed the door aside and barged into your room, white faces laced with worry.

"The same one?" Yoongi asks softly, careful to not startle you. Upon hearing his voice, you slowly turned to him, eyes brimming with unshed tears. Had his attention not have been entirely focused on you, he'd have missed your head nodding ever so gently

He cautiously and quietly approached you then sat down on your bed with his consigliere trailing close behind. He inches his way up your bed until he was close enough to affectionately caress your head. His smile begins to manifest as soon as he took notice of the way your eyes widen slightly before you closed your eyes and nuzzled into the safe reality that was his hand.

You retracted back and glanced up at your brother before managing a hoarse "thank you" as you noticed the 6 different pairs of eyes trained on the both of you. Yoongi must have known what you were thinking from the looks of your eyes as he said, "They care about you just as much as I do". When he finished, he turned back and nodded once to his consigliere in gratitude.

Your eyes flicker from the back of your brother's head to the 6 pairs of eyes staring worriedly into yours. Your gaze infinitely softens as you lower your eyes down from the attention they were giving you. The sound of waves crashing against the shore created a comforting blanket of silence as you looked out the window before turning back to them with a soft smile and a light dust of pink that coated your cheeks before saying, "I'm sorry for waking you all at such 'ungodly' hour of the night". Half of the members snickers while the other half returned soft smiles of their own. Time slowly passed before one of the member disrupted the comforting silence.

"Princess, you know we don't mind", Seokjin says kindly as your eyes returned to his. He was wearing a light pink Gucci pajama set that you had gifted him last Christmas when he told you that pink was his favorite color. To you, he wasn't part of your brother's consigliere who killed thousands, if not millions, but a family member who you have come to love besides the other members. His personality and love for cooking painted him far off from the idealistic mafia image of the top gang in Seoul. You returned his kind gaze before Yoongi was ushering his men single-file out of your room to return to their respective home that was connected to the main house where you and Yoongi resided. Some members, specifically Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook, yawned and rubbed their eyes sleepily. So much for your mafia profile, you thought and laughed quietly to yourself.

When Yoongi was nearly out the door, he heard a quiet plead from you that he made out to be, "Can you...stay with me until I fall asleep?". He was grateful that the members had listened and returned to their home due to fatigue from the work they had done earlier otherwise he could foresee that they would all want to come sleep in your room to comfort you. He scoffed before rolling his eyes as he renters the room, closed the door behind him before approaching you again.

"Y/n, there is nothing to be afraid of. I am here", he said as he took on the sofa near your bed that allowed him to glance out the window at the ocean. Your eyes trailed along with your brother until he sat down comfortably then you slowly eased yourself back under the warm and inviting cover.

Before long, he heard your breathing evening out and light snores can be heard throughout the room with the tides crashing against the sand in the background. He smiled to himself while looking down at the book held open in his hand but frown when he realized that he and his men had work to do tomorrow: clean up and get rid of the tracks from the useless and clumsy lower raking members whose lives were cut short earlier today as a result.

Little did you know that he had comfortably fell asleep in the upright position holding a book in his hand, smile content on his face as he was sure you were in safe proximity for as long as he's around.

When you woke up again, the time had only passed for an hour and a half. You were tired of attempting to go back to sleep. It had been the 3rd time tonight so you decided to sneak out of your own room to not awaken your brother who was softly snoozing away as to not give a single care in the world. Carefully getting out of bed, you put on your grey bunny indoor slipper that you had left there earlier. Your gaze filters back to the soft-looking-while-resting Yoongi and lingers there for awhile until you decided to exit your room, gently closing your door on your way out.

You slowly descended the cold marble stairs of your grand mansion before turning left to enter the open kitchen. Everything looked clean as usual because there was never enough time for you to spend with your brother and his consigliere who you have come to regard as your own family. They were often away on dangerous jobs, running errands, or doing dirty work that Yoongi had assigned. None were forced work, of course. Everyone had their respective jobs and roles in order for the gang to run smoothly and rose to the top to where they are today.

You began tiptoeing around your kitchen as you nervously grab around for pans and flowers, hoping to not make a sound to disturb your sleeping family. You figured they didn't get as much sleep prior to waking up and coming in to check on you because they came home terribly late. Doing what, you had no idea but you figured it had involved blood and murder this time because the smell of metal was so potent when you woken up, startled, the first roll of the never-ending nightmare beginning to play in your mind that night. You had been sick with worried if it was any of your family's blood but had not seen any cuts or bruises when they barged into your room in the early hours. By now, the smell and tracks of blood was gone because the private cleaning company Yoongi has bought up, had been here just minutes after Yoongi and his consigliere arrived home. Your mind returned to the task at hand which you were set on making simple but loving breakfast of pancakes to show your love and appreciation for your family. After all, each and every one of the member had, without fail, woken up to check on you whenever you had nightmares that shook you to your core. They had never once complained, only replying that no harm can come near you for as long as they are around.

You opened up the iPad that was charging on the kitchen counters and searched for fluffy pancake recipes. When you had finally found one you think was going to be delicious, you began to work on: putting the flower in the mixing bowl, cracking eggs, spooning out a small amount of baking powder and sugar. You set to work on mixing the ingredients in the bowl and placed down to rest while you went to the electronics stove. Turning it on the low setting while placing a pan on top with butter for it to melt, you grabbed the mixing bowl before stirring it around again softly this time. Suddenly, you felt hands creeping around your waist before it rested there. Soon, you felt someone's chin rested on your right shoulder before they nuzzles into you, kissing your neck softly.

“You do realize...you don't have to do this, right babe?" Hoseok whispered out against your ear. You shivered and turned slowly around in his arms as he adjusted his hold on you again. The sight from afar made it looked so awfully domestic, it'd melt even the coldest heart.

"I know but it's the least I could do" you rasped out against his chest before turning around, getting back to work on putting the mixture onto the warming pan.

[mm3n2]

3/20 hello again

Well it's certainly been a minute. Let's get into some updates.

I'm employed at Bareburger. The commute is somewhat of a nightmare.. approaching 50 minutes generally. It's nice to have some sort of income stream but at what cost you know? I wish the money was better. I'm checking back in with myself at the month benchmark. I need money but I want to be much closer to home (ahem Hanon).

Funnily enough, Shalom Japan did contact me. I don't know how interested I am in responding, I know mom would say you simply must respond but they want me for brunch on Saturday and Sunday and like.... I am in no position to be working weekend brunch shifts. As a bartender too 😭 I thought initially I wanted to serve, that I wanted to be with people at their tables. Now I'm wondering if I like the appeal of hiding behind the bar, with that barrier between me and the custies. Limited access. But my thing is I'm not at all confident in my bartending abilities, even though I have a shit ton of knowledge tbh.. I just know nothing about wine or beer lol. I can talk cocktails till the cows come home, but the difference between a merlot and a cab? No fucking clue.

Anyways, I don't want to work brunch. And I don't know if I love Shalom's concept.. it kind of weirds me out. Interesting, but weirds me out.

Taking care of Lui was fun.... it was a chore, but it was a fun chore. It wasn't necessarily that Lui was hard to take care of. He was fucking easy. I just didn't like not being in my apartment for 5 or whatever days. Schlepping my stuff all around the city. I want to stay at home... I don't even like Manhattan that much. Sep asked if I would do it again. I said I'd have to think about it, but also that I would need to get paid! At the end of it all though, I would really prefer to keep Lui at mine. I think if we got a bed and put his scent on it, he would be happy anywhere. Mom and dad DID say they would buy me a dog bed.... haha.

With the addition of a job I am keeping a bit more busy. That being said, my housewife duties have diminished significantly. Gone are the days of me being house mother LMFAOOO. I did kind of enjoy it... like I see the appeal a little bit.

I went out with Claire and Summer Cantrell last night, she's visiting rn. I honestly had a blast. We got dinner- I was late by an amount of time that needn't be repeated- and went dancing at a lesbian bar. Stopped by barracuda first, a gay bar, which was horrifically trash. Like we went pee and left. Henrietta, the LesBar, was very very fun. It was also very very packed. But I met some cool people, and hit it off (I guess you could say) with a boy.... let's unpack this.

First of all, he was very cute, tall, boyish haircut. I wasn't sure how old he was and I wish I hadn't asked. Sophomore in college. No older than 20. Lord Jesus... at that point I was too far in to just ditch him. He was pretty drunk, and not like in the way where it was keeping it cute... I'd say veering into dangerous territory. He was a ballet dancer. Contemporary ballet dancer. He didn't understand me being a contemporary dancer. Lollll.. anyways things got steamy, neck kisses et cetera, knuckle deep in public vibes (I am so sorry) but we never kissed once. Like HELLOOOOOO..... what a let down. Anyways I left that interaction with a lot of weird feelings. Like a lotttttttt...

Ultimately I feel weird about the fact that he was so much younger than me. Maturity level wise, experience wise. It brings up a lot of feelings about grooming, p-word, my experiences being young and feeling the fantasy of an older man being attracted to me. Is it bad that I was into him? Was I truly into him or was it the appeal of attention from somebody attractive? Did I take advantage of the situation? I'm apt to say no, because he took the lead in general.

I have to touch on this: my biggest frustration right now, superficially, is that I go out looking ungodly amounts of sexy... and yet I'm rarely approached. Do I look mean? (I'd be lying if I said that isn't often the goal.) I know there's some men out there with dommefag fetishes, which is totally my vibe. As a stunning beauty of an indeterminate gender, is it my responsibility to stalk the prey? That doesn't feel right. I want men to fawn over me and line up for the chance to buy me a drink. I'm a lady goddammit!

It's getting dire out here. My heart is getting colder by the day, and some corny shit I know, but I'd appreciate a pair of warm hands to hold it if only for a second. Every day I consider hitting up Mattia the Ligurian. Every night I balk, if mostly for the feeling of the timing not being right, frustration with my bodily issues, or just general ick. I really can't tell if he's attractive or not.... sometimes I think he looks too much like CJ's brother/cousin/relative. They are both italians with mustaches. My god. But in terms of accessibility... he's my closest, most appealing option (the ice is broken, there's been at least some level of tension for a significant period of time, blah blah blah).

I do feel myself meeting more people which is exciting. Harrison reached out, so did Maddie O'Farrell. I really do want to see her I realized, even if she's doing the corporate lesbian girlboss thing. I think yesterday was her birthday. Part of me wishes I'd met up with Mia and Con last night but I was busy with the two lesbians Claire and Summer----- oop. Very "so that happened" vibes.

Note to self: get a baggie. Keep it on hand. That's your doll emergency fund. If you wanna be in with the girls you better be down with the girls.

Wake up earlier. Be a productive morning person. Text Maddie happy birthday. Reach out to Harrison and apologize for not texting last night. Do the same for Mia. Iliana respond to my instagram message. Shantel take a class with me. Contact Jeremy, Lar, Kate, Lindsey, [insert names here]. Be stunning. Be soft. Kiss a boy. Open up. Be receptive to love. Hemmies begone! Sitzbath work your magic. Keep. taking. dance class. Shygirl next week. Find people to go with. Dates coming my way. Food coming my way. Paid drinks coming my way. Good people coming my way. Generosity to give and receive. A generous spirit will take you far! Hunker down, make that money, and get to work on time, for the love of god. I love you baby MWAH x

[anxietalyn]

ACL reconstruction

so. last week on Tuesday I got ACL surgery, and I've looked on a few tags on Tumblr for tips and what to expect. but, I didn't find a lot, and when I did they weren't really descriptive. so ima do one to maybe help some folks out. this is tips and my experience so far.

Edit: this turned out waaaay longer than I thought it would

THIS IS ALL BASED ON MY SURGERY AND RECOVERY. I'M NOT SAYING THIS IS EXACTLY HOW IT WILL GO. I WENT TO A TOP ORTHOPEDIC SURGEON BC MY FAMILY HAD HEARD A LOT ABOUT MY DUDE AND THEY TOOK MY INSURANCE(he turns out to be one of the top orthopedic surgeons in Texas. If you live in the Houston, Texas area, the dude is Dr. Barrett Brown at Fondren Orthopedic Group in the medical center. whoop.) :

if you have the time, money, and availability, go to therapy a few weeks before the surgery. it'll strengthen the muscles in the injured leg, and the leg that isn't going under the knife. it'll help you after the surgery when you're having to use crutches or a walker. trust me on that. I was going to therapy 7 1/2 before my surgery. my orthopedic said that I should've gone at least six weeks.

when I went to therapy for the first time after tearing my ACL and MCL back in October, he was concerned. *I was also in a wheelchair for ten days*.

don't do that

I wish I would've looked up how or asked a family who is a doctor how to use crutches. because I was miserable in that wheelchair. my muscles in my left leg(injured leg) shrinked because they weren't used in a week and a half. and my leg muscles are pretty strong for my height and weight. that was the most difficult part of therapy leading up to last Tuesday. the fact that my strength and body changed.

if you're learning how to use them, or they are unavailable for a day or so, go ahead and use a wheelchair. bc, I'll be honest, it is a lot easier.

You might be at the hospital for a while before they take you in. I was told to be at my surgeon's office at 9:30, and I wasn't taken back for prep until 13:00(1:00pm)

You might also be in the prep area for a bit.. but there is where you get the hospital dress, no-slide socks, a "fall risk" bracelet(which I should've gotten when I started to walk when I was little bc I'm hella clumsy), your IV, I was offered a numbing shot for the area of the IV but I dunno if that's universal

if you have a family member or friend back there with you, ask for them to distract you. I had my goofy brother to make faces at me

if you are offered that numbing shot, they will tell you this, but for about ten seconds it burns like hell

at my hospital, everyone who would be in the OR had to come introduce themselves before surgery, so if you have any questions, ask! they are there to answer your questions. no matter if you think they're stupid.

my Anesthesiologist(the dude who gives the knock out juice) came over, asked if this is my first surgery, and when I told him yes, he explained EVERYTHING. He said that all the folks in the room(for me it was 6) would come by, ask my name, birthday, what was happening during the surgery, and which leg. he then said that the anaesthesia I would get was a non-narcotic which is to help you not throw up after surgery(which I didn't).

five more people then introduced themselves

when they were wheeling me to the OR, they said it would be cold so they gave me a second blanket

they wheeled me up to the table, had me crawl onto it, had a foam pillow for my head, and extended arm holders for my arms to lay outta the way

Steve(anesthesiologist) then asked if I was ready, I said I was scared. one of the nurses then held my hand as he put in the knock out juice. he then said I did good, and to help the anaesthesia work faster, put an oxygen over my nose and mouth until I was out.(last thing I remember)

when I woke up, I was still in the OR, but I was incredibly dis-oriented. I know ASL, so I started signing "want brother" over and over. none of the OR folks knew what I was signing, so they found someone who knows a little ASL and they interpreted what i was signing

they told my that I had to wait for a little bit so they could check to make sure my vitals and wrap up my leg(it's a 30 minute waiting period)

when my parents came in, I was offered sprite(You can't eat anything after ten o'clock the night before, or drink anything(even water) after midnight.) because my sugar level was low

!!!start drinking water a week before the surgery!!!it's so much more difficult to find a good vein for the IV!!! my grandma was poked seven times in different places to find a good juicy vein!!!

the anaesthesia will most likely make you feel weird.

I called everyone cute. everyone. nurse, doctor, patient, people who I don't know. everyone. I asked my nurse out on a date. I told my mom who Is married she's jealous of my "mad flirting skills"

You need to eat something on your way home. I stopped and got soup to-go. I recommend soup, just because it is easy on the tummy

You will not have an appetite for at least a week. regardless, you need to eat protein during recovery bc it'll help your Incision.

I keep repeating this but. YOU NEED TO EAT. YOU WILL NOT FEEL LIKE IT. BUT EAT. I AM AN 18-YEAR OLD AND I GO TO A COMMUNITY COLLEGE SO I STAYED HOME. I HAD THREE PEOPLE TELLING ME TO EAT. AND ONE WHO FORCED ME TO EAT. GET YOU SOMEONE THAT WILL MAKE YOU EAT WHEN YOU DON'T FEEL LIKE IT.

your leg will hurt. there's no way to sugar coat. it will hurt a lot.

find something to distract yourself. my Alma Mater was in the state championship for football, and I love football and star wars. I watched The Force Awakens an ungodly amount, that I could quote every. single. character.

just find things to do that you don't need to exert yourself too much. I like colouring books, reading, and watching movies. just have something to do while you recover. please.

you'll get prescribed four things: pain medicine, meds for muscle spasms, meds to help with nausea, and a shot that helps prevent blood clots in my leg while I can't move it regularly

I'm about six days into recovery, and the shots are the worst part currently.

The first three to four days are the worst of it. your nerves are waking up, you're getting used to not bending your knee, your learning how to walk again. they are just bad.

take the pain med when your pain level is a 3 or 4 on a 1-10 scale. it'll kick in right before it gets too bad

on that note. DON'T LET SOMEONE TELL YOU HOW BAD YOU HURT. YOUR BODY. YOUR PAIN. EVERYONE'S PAIN TOLERENCE IS DIFFERENT.

when you stand, it will hurt.

when you put pressure on it, it will hurt.

when you move it, it will hurt.

when you hit it(on anything), it will hurt.

when you have to adjust the brace strap that is riiiiight on top of the incision, it will hurt like no other.

that pain, will pass.

I PROMISE you that the pain will reduce. in the moment it may seem like your leg is on fire, but fight on, Strong Warrior. fight on.

elevate your leg from behind your ankle

elevate when ever you can. you're told to, and 10/10 recommend it because it will reduce swelling

you're gonna swell anyways. a little bit of swelling is normal. it's your body trying to heal it's self.

don't take Ibuprofen: it flushed out the good things that the swelling is bringing to heal your body

ice your knee. ice. ice. ice. it will help with over swelling

you don't HAVE to elevate your foot while you sleep though.

You will not sleep for a couple nights. it will suck. it will be frustrating. and it will awful. last night was the first night since Tuesday(it's a Monday) that I got more than four hours of sleep. You will eventually get sleep though. and personally, I was able to take small naps during the day.

I personally, have self-harm scars on my left thigh. so I was slightly uncomfortable with people being around them. You'll have to have someone wrap an ace bandage around your leg(mine is wrapped from my ankle to mid thigh.). Have someone you are comfortable with touching them wrap your leg.

You may not always be fully comfortable during recovery, but try to get as comfy as you can

Go to physical therapy.

it will help(and it's prescribed)

and for goodness sake. Do your at home exercises they give you. they seem like a waste of time, but they honestly do help.

find a PT group you like. **look on your insurance to find a place that is "in network". it'll cost a whole bunch less.**

for PT it's completely okay to go to different people until you feel comfortable. You will do so much better when you're with someone you trust and can tell they know their shit.

I'm curious by nature, and my therapist has the alphabet behind his name. so if you get a card, Google the letters!

for example, the alphabet behind his name is: PT, DPT, FAAOMPT. When I searched them, I found that PT is the good ol' fashioned Physical Therapist. DPT is Doctorate of Physical Therapy. and FAAOMPT is  American Academy of Orthopedic Manual Physical Therapists("The “Fellow” is a physical therapist who has demonstrated advanced clinical, analytical, and hands-on skills in the treatment of musculoskeletal orthopedic disorders and is internationally recognized for their competence and expertise in the practice of manual physical therapy." Basically, my dude knows his shit).

Warning though, if you're curious about what a certain exercise does, and you ask,they might touch your body and physically show you what muscle the exercise works. and while you're doing an exersice, if you're doing it wrong, they will fix your position themself. this is why I say find someone your comfortable with. They are very hands on. I was lucky because the first one I went to, we hit it off. we both have mutual interests, and he isn't annoyed when I sass him. he sasses me back.

In pictures of me within a couple weeks of the operation, you can see how swollen my foot is. the brace I have is a pretty general brace, and it I locked straight. I cannot bend my leg while I have it on. under it is two ace bandages, and then on my incision there is a steri-strip. My nurse said not to touch it/try to remove it because it's keeping it clean and helping it heal. I got four holes in my knee for a camera and tools. the graph that is now my ACL is from my Patellar tendon, so the incision is between 6-8 inches.

I'll continue to update this as my recovery continues. and if you have any questions, feel free to message or send me an ask!