#i might just. fucking suck it up and stay for the duration that i have to be in this stupid town

[fooltofancy]

i want out of this apartment so, so badly, but we got the email saying we're gonna be receiving renewal documentation this week and having to decide NOW whether i need to figure all of that shit out is. bad.

#i was gonna call them in march lmao #lease ends june 1 like 'we're already getting inquiries' that's great #im already so overwhelmed even thinking about the logistics of finding a place sorting moving options moving utilities moving internet #not to mention the insane financial hurdle of deposit+rent plus moving #weeps #im like. really struggling living here lmao but also at this point i'm really struggling just existing and piling all of that extra bullshi #is not gonna help #i might just. fucking suck it up and stay for the duration that i have to be in this stupid town #idk what im doing after that and idk how long that actually has to be because my work can Not decide how longevity works #weh. #mentally and emotionally compromised #AND i have to see my endo this month #it's all stupid and it's still killing me

[morallyinept]

Pedro Boys & Kinks 🥴

Today we're getting kinky with the Pedro Boys...

NSFW due to the nature of the smutty talk.

Check out more of my Pedro Boys Rambles here.

I make no apologies for this. Well, maybe some...

Enjoy! 🖤

Joel Miller - Nylons. 

This rugged old man with the bad knees loves to tear through your pantyhose like a rabid madman in the throes of a Cordyceps freak out! Le freak, c'est chic. He's drooling, darlin'. He loves to lick your pussy through them, watching the wet patch bloom into the silky mesh of your oozy camel toe. Feel the smooth slide of them against his morose face as he runs his scruff up your legs and into your parted thighs. Those thick, calloused fingers are soon tearing them open as he literally dives face first into your sopping cunt. I mean, he's been starving for a while now. Chef Boyardee ain't cutting it. Joel's a hungry man and it's not long after that, that he's planting his crimson capped mushroom deep inside you; fisting at the shredded hosiery around your thighs. In the days before the outbreak, Joel was an absolute sucker for a pair of black hold ups with a lacy top. And if they had little satin bows on? Well, that's a sure fire way to finish him off. And Joel Miller is fucking indestructible, right? 

Well, mostly. Abby Anderson might have something to do with that… Sssh! 🤫

Francisco Morales - Gagging. 

The best way to hook this Catfish line and sinker, is to take him right back deep into your throat and watch as he loses all his shit. Frankie's gonna start killing people! Lots of spit, sucking, drooling and if you cry those mascara tears from the strain down your cheeks? Even better, hermosa. You can bet that Frankie will bust more than just his nuts as you chow down at the all-you-can-eat dick buffet and swallowing all of that Fish yoghurt. (Urm, eww?) You'll have this handsome pilot flying high, and without the use of nose powder. Standard Heating Oil cap stays on. The whole damn time.

Ezra - Urophilia & Squirting. 

Ezra is a kinky scoundrel deep down. We all know it. Don't be fooled by that doe-eyed, self-redemption of our ramblin' man. Even with one arm he can still get his freak on with vigour. And don't let the fact he has one arm hold him back either. Oh no, little bird. He'll fingerbang you so hard until you're gushing all over his arm and he's licking it all up greedily. S'better than mining for Aurelac. Ezra's biggest kink is railing you when you really need to pee. And you can bet he'll press down on your bladder so you let it out all over him as you cum wildly. Time for a golden shower for our sweaty prospector. Panties down, Birdie.

Dieter Bravo - Abrasion (Touch Sensations)

This trashy floof-panda loves to touch things, always feeling things up when he's high off his tits. Rubbing his face against the wall, fingering through the shag, even licking it on occasion. And don't give him bubble wrap when he's fucked up twelve ways to Sunday n' tripping balls. You'll never get it back. The same applies when you're fucking; your body is a touch soaked candyland for him to explore, mount and peak. And dribble over. He'll take his sweet time doing it all too with awed bloodshot-eyes and then indulge in a post-coital KitKat for a munchies treat. Dieter won't share it though; he's never giving this up. 

Agent Whiskey - Impact Play 

Ol' handsome Jack has an adept arsenal of kinky whips and lassos. Of course he's gonna use them on ya, sugar. We all know how good Jack is with a whip. He loves it when the skin breaks and you bleed a little too. Those thick, red welts criss-crossing over your pert booty that he'll slap whilst he fucks you like a bucking bronco get him staying hard for the duration, ma'am. But he likes spending time soothing you afterwards by rubbing cool and nourishing salves and lotions into your cheeks and kissing all over them like succulent peaches. Cowboy Jack is all about the aftercare, doll. A true Southern dandy indeedy. 

Javier Peña - Quirofilia (Hands/Nails) 

Javier always notices when you've had your nails done. Complimenting you on the colour, the shape; the glitzy gems on your pointer finger that twinkle at him as he fucks your fist in the file room tucked away amongst boxes of Escobar's reciepts and spurts down your skirt. Yeah, thanks, Javi. He loves it even more when they're raking down his back leaving pink claw marks in his tan skin that make him growl and bear his teeth, as he ploughs you deeper into the mattress, cariño. 

Oberyn Martell - Wax Play

Oberyn loves making patterns on your skin as he drips the hot wax onto it and watches you sizzle. Peeling it off when it dries is the best part to reveal succulent pink nipples he sucks on and soothes from the heated burn they've endured. Fucking by candlelight will almost guarantee that the Red Viper will sink his fangs into your flesh to poison you all over again after he sets you aflame. Is it getting hot in here? 

Marcus Pike - Cuckolding 

Well cuck-a-doodle-do-me. Marcus loves watching you get taken by another, far more superior, person, and your pleasure at that suggestion only fuels his own further. He loves hearing how weak and pathetic he is and how he's never made you cum (even if it's a playful lie, I mean it's Marcus-fucking-Pike, come on. The man spends hours pulling them big O's out of you.) And if you poke fun at the size of his cock, (even if it is a whopper) he'll ruin himself right there fuelling your laughter as he watches you get railed without being able to touch. Guarantee it. 

Dave York - Knife Play

Murder Daddy Dave loves to watch you squirm as he runs the whisper of a cool, sharp blade against your milky skin. A gentle nick or a subtle graze into the skin where the blood bubbles up, makes his cock harder than the thought of Carol's Sunday casserole. Holding it to your throat as he dicks you down is even better. Play victim for Daddy, Princess. And when you beg him to use the handle in place of his cock, well Daddy Dave is only too obliging for his good little cum slut. Good girl. 

Pero Tovar - Sploshing. 

I mean it's food, d'uh. Sit on a cake and let this hungry Spainard feast off of you like his enjoying his last meal. Fruit, honey, cream… okra. You name it, he'll eat from the serving platter of your tasty flesh, and will then eat you out afterwards. Either way Pero will be getting his fill one way or another. Better have some Pepto handy.  

Din Djarin - Shibari 

The Mandalorian can either bring you in warm or bring you in roped up. Taking his sweet, agonising time in tying the silk fibres of the Shibari rope around your limbs, Din prolongs both of your anticipation through adept fingers akin to wizardry. But it's worth it to see the pretty and intricate knots and weaves that leave their patterns indented into your flesh long after he's untied you. And it'll be hours and hours before he does, Mesh'la. With your back to him, he'll subtly push up his helmet to kiss his artistic handiwork and leave deeper marks etched on you still. This is the kinky way. 

Marcus Moreno - Suspension.

Marcus loves nothing more than twisting your body into shapes whilst you're suspended in the air, manipulating you into all sorts of heroic poses. Pulling you back onto him as he pummels deep and hard, and you've no way to escape him. You can only float there, suspended in mid air and take what this sweet hero gives when he lets out his dark villainous side to play. 

Max Phillips - Humiliation & Degradation.

Max loves the power of claiming his victims; a Vampire's hard-on. But this bloodsucker also loves it when a human gets one up on him and shows him who's the real boss by reducing him to nothing but a naked, quivering pale mess on the floor at your feet to walk all over, spit on or do anything else that you feel he's deserving of. Threaten him with an open window. Sharpen a 2B pencil. Well, he did bite you, babe. Time to get your revenge. Make him crawl naked to the staff room to fetch your lunch then use him as a footstool whilst you eat it. Just don't be surprised later when the dynamic shifts again and Max makes you his lunch. Nom.

Silva - Feet 

This handsome Wrangler has travelled a long way to lay at your feet worshipping them. Stroking, nuzzling, kissing; sucking on that big toe you loathe, licking up the arch and groping the ball of your foot. He'll suck on your pinky toes whilst you suck on his cock. He'll be jerking his own gently and lost in the sensations of your intimacy as he fawns over your feet. Silva's in pedi heaven. Lord knows he'll need one himself after wearing them boots all that way, mind. 

Comandante Veracruz - Voyeurism.

Veracruz has no qualms in fucking you infront of his men, claiming you and reminding you all that you're his plaything that he's kept hostage. Or instructing and watching his men take turns to fuck you when you misbehave whilst he lays back on the cot, dick in hand and blowing up. Both are equally pleasing scenarios to the eye for the Comandante. And the Comandante always gets what he wants. 

Maxwell Lord - Electrostimulation 

Attach the clamps on his nipples, on his balls and then charge up the juice and watch this man squeal and grunt like a Red Wattle hog. He also likes a shock wand when he's been a very bad man. And Maxwell is in dire need of a whole lotta punishment, considering he tried to take over the world. Charge him up like a battery and watch the sparks shoot out of the end of his cock. Better than fireworks.

Javi Gutierrez - Furries 

I mean, sweet Javi G dressed up in an oversized, fuzzy teddy bear suit and pawing at you? I'll just leave you with that image to do with as you wish… 

#jett's pedro boys #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #jett has spoken #joel miller #ezra prospect #dieter bravo #marcus pike #marcus moreno #francisco morales #din djarin #agent whiskey #max phillips #maxwell.lord #comandante veracruz #silva strang #javier peña #javi gutierrez #dave york #pero tovar #oberyn martell

[jeonjungkookenthusiast1997]

Bodyguard For Hire (1) - It's Going To Be a Bumpy Ride

Summary: Bang Chan, a famous body guard, has been hired to protect the daughter of a rice banker. She's a spoiled brat who likes to tease her new body guard endlessly and who's to say he can't flirt back?

This is my own work not a reblog! Please do not repost or translate.

Content Warnings- mafia/ gang au, mentions of violence, flirting, pet names, Y/N is a little brat, bang Chan is also a brat

Word Count - 1,698

Navigation

Chapter 2

The streets of Seoul had gotten more dangerous lately, the local gangs making their presence well known. Y/N's father, a rich investment banker, had growing concerns that his daughter would be targeted leading them to hire a well known bodyguard for her known as Bang Chan.

Y/N had been nervous when she got called into her father's study and frowned when she saw the man standing beside her father as he explained the situation "No refusal or your allowance for the month will be stopped" her father barked at her firmly as he tips his head back swallowing a suspicious looking brown liquid.

Anger started to burn into her heart as her face turns red "what?! This is ridiculous daddy! I don't need a fucking bodyguard" her delicate face scrunches up in distaste as she looks at the stranger, he had short and dyed platinum hair and a small cut across his cheek which looked oddly fresh. His clothes looked crisp and clean at least a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a black waist coat sucking in this waist deliciously. Y/N could admit in her head that he was drop dead gorgeous but that didn't stop her anger at the situation.

"Y/N! Language" her father bites out with a serious expression on his face. Bang Chan stays silent next to him as his dark eyes watch his new client, he takes this time to examine her frame. Her e/c eyes glimmer in the dark light of the room, her mid length hair flowing loosely at her back and a sleek looking black dress adorns her curves, he thinks to himself he might be kind of... Cute if she didn't look at him like he'd just shot her. Shaking his head of such futile thoughts he focuses back on the conversation happening in front of him, "I-" she goes to respond but bitterly realises silence in this instance may work out more in her favor so she simply looks away from her father with a scowl across her face.

"You will not question me again." Her father huffs and he pours himself another drink. "Now go upstairs. I have to speak to Mr. Bang Chan privately" she can't help but roll her eyes at this, "Fine" she grits out as she turns and slams the study door making her way up to her bedroom.

As soon as Y/N is upstairs Bang Chan relaxes, rolling his shoulder slightly as he moves to sit across from the older man.

Bang Chan clears his throat slightly before speaking "She seems... Difficult" the man before him chuckles slightly "Yes, she has a mean stubborn streak it's hard to get through to her once she's made her mind up" the patriarch stops his thought there with a frown before he continues "Do you think you'll be able to handle her?". Bang Chan hums to himself as he thinks "Of course. I have a lot of experience in dealing with people. Especially women like your daughter." he smiles "How much is the pay for this job and how long will I be here?" The older man pulls out a brief case full of cash and pushes it Infront of Bang Chan "This to start, more to follow which can be discussed at a later date, as for your duration..." A deep sigh leaves his mouth as he looks at some documents on his desk "Lets say a 30 days for now, I'll pay you the rest at the end of this month and we can review the contract then" the blonde haired man nods as he thinks the arrangement over "For now I'd like you to properly introduce yourself to my daughter, she may not be happy now but I can only imagine the longer it's left... The worse her temper will become" he ushers the bodyguard out of his study and towards the main staircase, Bang Chan takes a deep breath before climbing the stairs.

He rounds the top of the staircase and stops at Y/N's room, he can hear her inside mumbling angry to herself before he knocks "Y/N let me in, your father wants us to meet" he waits for a moment getting ready to knock again when he hears something soft hit her door and an angry "Go away!" Is shouted from behind the door.

A deep sigh leaves his chest at her antics before he announces he's coming in, turning the handle he opens the door walking in to see his client, Y/N, sat at a vanity table with her arms crossed much like a child he laments to himself "You realise this is part of why I'm here, yes? To keep you safe" she looks at him like he's got 2 heads for a moment before responding sarcastically "Why yes because I need protection from my fucking pillows" she stands up and shoves a pillow into his arms before she throws herself onto her bed.

He sets the pillow back back on her bed and sits down on a chair across from her "You're very stubborn aren't you?" A smirk flashes across her face at his words "one of my best traits" she flicks her hair over her shoulder while watching him carefully "Yeah that attitude is also why your parents hired me" he crosses his legs and looks at her, a frown creases her brow and she bows her head "I know and I know how bad Seoul has gotten recently but I don't need a babysitter" she huffs out "if you're aware of all that then why act like a spoiled princess?" he crosses his arms as his sharp eyes watch her reactions to his words "Because I can! Because it keeps freeloading dicks out of my life" she bites out before finally sitting up slightly resting her weight on her elbows "well news flash kid but I'm not a freeloader. I was hired by your father. I get paid good money dealing with princesses like you 24/7." Her eyes roll back into her skull at his cockiness "Good for you Mr... Whatever your name is" she sneers at him, "It's Bang Chan. Try to remember that." he says with an oddly cold expression "No I don't think I will actually, you see that would mean you'll be staying here which isn't happening" she rolls her eyes again before grabbing her phone from a unit near her bed.

He quickly jumps up and grabs the phone away from her placing it in his pocket "You won't need that." Her mouth opens and closes a few times as she stares at him with wide eyes "You can't do that!" She squeaks out at his actions "Give it back!" She shouts as she lifts her hands trying to grab her device back. He simply shrugs his rugged shoulder at her "If you are going to behave like a child, I'm going to treat you like one" He says in a stern tone "Understand?" His words make her blood boil underneath her skin "I am NOT a child we've been over this, you can't treat me like one I'm fucking 23 you dick" a laugh escapes his chest at her words "23 and still acting like a spoiled brat? Your parents need to teach you some manners... Oh wait..." he snaps his fingers together "that's right. I'm doing that now" he says as he stands up "You can try" she scoffs at him "what was your name again? Bam... Something" she folds her arms underneath her bust "Bang Chan. What was yours again, Princess?" He asks in a sarcastic tone, standing over her "You know fine well what my name is and don't call me princess!" She shouts with her cheeks dusted a faint pink "Alright, Princess" he chuckles. She can see that he's enjoying this, enjoys getting a reaction out of her.

He pushes her gently back onto her bed, but she just lays there in shock not sure how to actually respond to him completely man handling her, he leans over her as she lays down. He's inches away from her face, smirking as he looks her up and down "I'm sure my father didn't hire you to mock me now go away" she pushes him back and stomps to her wardrobe to get her night clothes out "No he did not. But he did hire me to protect you and make sure you're behaving. Even if that means getting up close and personal, you clearly need to learn to respect your elders" He chuckles making her throwing her head back slightly as she laughs "my elders? You can't be more than what... 24? Hardly my elder" he smirks and puts his hand on wardrobe door caging her in "I'm 25. Still your elder" He says while looking into her eyes.

Getting flustered at his close proximity she throws her bed clothes at him effectively pushing him back "You pervert! You just going to stand here while I change for bed now too?!" Bang Chan thinks at this and hums to himself "well... Your father did hire me to look out for you. And to make sure you're not getting into anything... naughty" He smirks as he watches her get all flustered, her face is bright red now "Get Out!" She starts pushing him out of her bedroom "You can come back and stalk me tomorrow, freak!" He lets her push him out of the room but before he leaves he turns to her and says "You're a very interesting person, you know that Princess?" He gives her one last wink and closes the door.

She hears his footsteps thud down the stairs but she remains stood at the door dumbfounded for a few moments before she slams her door shut and dresses for bed. She climbs into her plush bed but she can't sleep, her mind reels of thoughts on her new frustrating and admittedly sexy bodyguard "tomorrow's going to be a nightmare" she groans into her pillow as she rolls over in bed, letting sleep take her after an hour or two.

#stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids au #stray kids mafia au #bang chan au #bang chan mafia au #bang chan #bang chan fanfic #bang chan imagines #bang chan x reader #bang chris #bang chan scenarios #christopher bang #chris bang #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x female reader #bang chan x rich reader #mafia au #bodyguard chan x rich kid reader #bodyguard bang chan #bodyguard chan #bang chan is a little shit #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x female reader #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #skz #skz au

[spitdrunken]

Can we please get some more cat boy Ingo and Emmet???? Both nsfw and sfw?? I just read what you wrote for them and I’m dying cause it’s so cute!!

sure sure <33 have a few thoughts i had earlier about both of them! this is a lot more casual than my previous post though :')!

they both enjoy their ears and tail being touched, as long as you do it carefully! and not out of nowhere. it’s quite calming to them. emmet will just lower his head in front of you if he wants some affection, or curl his tail around one of your fingers. he’ll rub your head in return after! ingo is more likely to ask, he wouldn’t want to impose. he purrs loudly at the touch. when he ‘fixes’ your hair or your clothing for you, that’s his way to return the favour. (he keeps trying to suppress the urge to lick you.)

emmet looooves getting right in your face and slowblinking at you as a form of affection! ingo isn’t a huge fan of direct eye contact and tends to avoid it. but you can still catch him doing something similar out of the corner of your eye!

catnip is effective on both of them. it’s an easy way to get emmet to relax, that’s for certain! he just kind of collapses into a grinning heap while clinging and rubbing against you. the effects are a little less obvious on ingo, and he tries to pretend he’s immune to it, but his pupils get blown wide open by it. he’s drooling a little bit as well.

nsfw under cut ! 

notes: petplay (kind of? the ‘master’ stuff you often see is referenced), heats, breeding, biting

catperson x human porn is quite popular! and a staple of it is the whole 'master'/'pet' dynamic. it’s such a cliché and somewhat demeaning that humans and catfolk alike roll their eyes at it. emmet just thinks it’s mildly amusing and often calls you 'master' without being serious. or he might use it if he reaaaally wants something. (he thinks it’s very entertaining if this actually flusters you, and will do it more often.)

...ingo is a bit different. much to his own embarrassment, enjoys the idea of such a dynamic. he likes the thought of pleasing and looking after you very much, that’s the appeal to him! (emmet keeps telling him he’s feeding into stereotypes, purely because ingo gets so defensive about it.) he’d even let you dress him up and collar him, if you wish. 

heats are rough on every party involved. you better take a couple of days off from work! ingo and emmet’s heats tend to hit them around exactly the same time. depending on the nature of your relationship, either of the twins will respect the other’s claim on you and leave during the duration of their heat- or they’ll both stay. 

ingo wants to ensure your pleasure even during his heat, always making sure you cum once beforehand by eating you out or sucking you off. but after that, he checks in less than usual, driven by the need to stuff you full. both ingo and emmet have barbed penises, but ingo’s are more pronounced and stimulate every little part of your insides. he has a strong tendency to mewl rather than moan.

emmet’s entire brain is foggy, high on the hormones that are being pumped into him. he gives you the bare minimum of preparation before sliding inside. (but he still has no intention of hurting you this way, and he’ll stop if you seem to be in pain! this actually causes him quite a bit of distress, since you’re his mate and he’s supposed to keep you safe.) he’s even more possessive than ingo and leaves bites all up the side of your neck.

fucking them together is always a challenge, because even they are a bit more prickly about sharing when they’re in heat. the worst part is having to decide who gets to fuck you first. at this point, you’re better off making a schedule and sticking to it, or they’re going to end up hissing at each other. (or, if you have the parts, they’d be easily satisfied if you let one of them fuck either of your holes.)

#cha.ingo #cha.emmet #ingo x reader #emmet x reader

[swangtup6]

Album Review: Ingested - Surpassing The Boundaries of Human Suffering (2009)

Gonna be doing something a bit different today. I tend to give very high ratings on the projects I review, and this is because I usually review albums I like. This will not be the case today. Ingested is a British band that helped pioneer "slamcore", a fusion of slam and deathcore, which are both genres that I love on their own, but do not enjoy when combined. Why not? Let's discuss.

The first thing I don't like about this album is the guitarwork. Outside of the context it's in, I think it would be serviceable. The guitarists obviously know their shit, and they pull off some riffs that remind me a little of Waking The Cadaver, but without the catchy, memorable breakdowns, or the haunting melodic tremolo parts. Most of the riffing on this album feels very phoned in and passionless, and I also don't care for the guitar's tone. It's big, yeah, but it feels hollow in a way where it really needs an audible bass behind it to make it really hit, which it doesn't, because the bass is completely buried.

Next is the vocals, which are actually one of the better parts of this release. The vocals are fine (but not optimal) for deathcore, but not for anything that calls itself "slam". They're full of growls and highs, neither of which belong in slam, but they also don't really have the variety that most deathcore vocals have; they don't sharply alternate between extreme highs and deep gutturals in the dynamic and neck-breaking way that many deathcore vocalists tend to do, and so they're just a little too static for this album.

And lastly, at least for the instruments, the drums. I'm gonna start positively. The drummer is a BEAST, no doubt about it. This album is full of gravity blasts and rapidfire double bass, and it doesn't slow down for a MINUTE, except on the breakdowns of course. The drumming is easily the best part of the album. However, the drumming sounds so fucking sample-replaced and post-edited. I feel like there's barely anything left of the actual drumming under the electronic kick, overly compressed snare, and aggressive quantizing. At this point, they might as well have just programmed the drums because nobody would ever be able to tell the fucking difference. The drumming is cool, yeah, but it would be so much better if it felt like it was being done by a human.

But the main reason I don't like this album isn't any of those, because I like a decent amount of music that has those characteristics. Hell, I even use a drum machine for my own music. The main thing that fucking sucks about this album is the songwriting. I mentioned earlier that the riffing feels pretty phoned in, but that's not just the case with the riffing. This whole album feels like it didn't even really want to exist. I feel like the band was just like "Hey, we make deathcore, lets just add a shit ton of slam riffs and pretend we're doing something original" and ended up just making boring deathcore. There isn't a single song on this album that doesn't sound like every other song on the album. You could skip to any point in the whole project and it would blend seamlessly with the part you were already listening to because it all sounds exactly the same. There's no variation, no interesting riffs or vocals, no catchiness, nothing. Hell, with the shitty guitar tone and artificial sounding drums there's barely even any heaviness here. I'm sorry, but I don't want to break someones skull with my elbow to a 12 year old's guitar tone with a sprinkler under it, and that's what slam and deathcore should both make you want to do.

At the end of the day, slam and deathcore need to stay more separate from this. It's cool to have some slams in your deathcore (like early Whitechapel and Suicide Silence did, very well I might add) but the genres have different goals. Slam is all about unending, uncompromising brutality that just mindlessly bludgeons you for the duration of the album or EP or however you're listening to it, while deathcore's brutality usually comes from the varied sonic assault, where it switches from trem riffs over blasting to slams to breakdowns to more trem riffs to maybe even a clean section on some of the more adventurous stuff. But slamcore doesn't do any of that. It's not slam, but it tries to apply the slam formula to deathcore, which just doesn't translate well, because the genres are heavy and brutal in completely different ways.

This album is NOT worth your time.

20/100

Standout track: None, they're all exactly the same

#deathcore #youtube #music #music review #metal music #death metal #metal review #metalcore #Youtube

[meowzfordayz]

OKAYYY HELLOOOO SO I HAVE A REQUEST!! That you could totally ignore if it’s too much! (Cause I genuinely care about you and your health so please take your time cause I’ll be very patient ily /gen)

Maybe some hcs of the Kamaboko trio like coming home from a mission and reader goes to greet them? Or even, they come home to reader sleeping!! :0000 But also, take this into your own interpretation! I’d like to see what you think of this! (Can be fem reader if you’d like I really don’t mind) if this is too confusing my bad I’m horrible at explaining things, also I genuinely had this on my mind every now and then and it’s always like in my imagines before I go to bed 🤩! (Really hoping tumblr doesn’t crop out anything I have trust issues gn)

Anyway, I really love your hcs/oneshots and they always help me go to bed! I want you to know that 💓💓💓 /gen

Hiya: tyvm for your request. 😁 I absolutely couldn’t ignore it: it’s too cute 🤗 — I enjoyed writing it !! Also, your prompt wasn’t at all confusing, nor are you horrible at explaining things !! I’m grateful that you really love my hcs/one shots, and hope this helps you go to bed as well. 🥺 Love, T. 💝

Author’s Note: requests are PERMANENTLY CLOSED !! Suggestions/thirsts and emergency requests are still very much OPEN. 💗

kamaboko coming home to you

Kamaboko x Reader

Word Count: ~2,400

CW: canonical violence, explicit language

~faqs~

Is lowkey disappointed that you’re not immediately rushing out to greet him

He’s tired and lonely and Waaah where’s my warm huuuggg ?!?!?!

“[y/n]-chaaan?”

Not that he expects ✨traditionality✨

You aren’t his house spouse or whatever 😤

Unless you’d like to be a house spouse ?? — he’d obvi be cool w/ that too 🤗

I meeean, having warm food and hot tea awaiting his arrival… 😍

But that’s unfair, bc, like, it’s hard to estimate length of missions ??

Are you just magically supposed to know when he’ll show up again ??

Plus, I hc Zenitsu to be awful about keeping in touch 😆

Not on purpose !!

He’s a total sap

As well as anxious, yanno, so if his partner wanted/needed reassurance during his absence(s), then he’d def empathize w/ them and attempt to barrage them—daily—w/ letters

Buuut he’s also got a lot to process what w/ his consistent state of panic and trying to stay alive

So despite his intent, he often forgets to uhh, barrage you—daily—w/ letters 😅

Thus, you don’t really have any way of anticipating/preparing for him

“[y/n]-chan? I’m hooome,” he shouts again, eyes narrowing at your lack of response

He knows you can protect yourself, knows you might not even be home, but damn it I miss you, “Where are you? [y/n]-chaaan!”

Cold dread sets in when he realizes

Whenever either of you are away for an extended duration, whoever’s home always leaves a note when they go out — just so the other knows not to worry if they return in that gap of going out

There is no note

He can hear someone’s heart beating

Slowly

Too slowly

“[y/n]?!” his voice reverberates harder

The fear in his veins isn’t shocking or thrilling; doesn’t have the same anger or determination as slaying demons; isn’t something he can be coerced, shamed, or inspired into tackling head on

It’s a desperate, treacherous, fogging suffocation

He’s never cared about being on time—about being late—until now

Surely there’d be some semblance of carnage if they’d been attacked ?!

He knows you don’t go down easily, and certainly not cleanly

So Why are the walls intact? he’s running, a soundless pace in case evil—the demon—lingers

And Where is the blood? he swallows nauseously

Who the hell is breathing?

Who the fuck’s alive?

There aren’t many rooms to scout, the faint pulsation guiding him swiftly toward the bedroom

How cruel he sucks in a sharp breath Sacrilegious

Vignettes—moments—of you, of him, together, snag on the edges of his vision

Welcoming the sunrise: soft giggles, fingers intertwined; his eyes open just wide enough to appreciate how effervescent you look caressed by morning’s glow; What’re you staring at, Zeni? “Everything.”

Eating on the futon: you scolding him as he gets crumbs on the kakebuton, him teasing you when you inevitably do the same; piling the dishes haphazardly on the floor soon after; tucking yourself into him for post lunchtime cuddles

Screaming into consciousness: sometimes you, sometimes him; grabbing onto the nearest physical tether, wordless dampness spreading; barely visible, drowning in the presence of moonlight; It wasn’t real, shh, it wasn’t real  “And you?” I’m real “Promise?” Promise, I’m real. I’m right here

He slams into the bedroom, hand on his katana’s hilt, eyes darting frantically

…

…

ARE YOU KIDDING ME ?!?!?! 😵‍💫🤬🤯

“Zeni, you’re home,” you mumble, three quarters asleep, one eye gazing blearily at his disheveled form, “C’mere, kept your side warm.”

“YOUR HEARTBEAT.”

You wince at his volume, tiredness dissipating slightly, “Hm?”

“WHY WAS IT SO SLOOOWWW ?!?!?!” 😭

“Mmm, dunno, am zzz, less whine, more snuggle,” you shrug, lifting the kakebuton, entirely oblivious to the tension draining from his stance

Bruuuh Zenitsu’s FUMING rn

Like, you have the audacity to point out his whining when hE THOUGHT YOU WERE SRSLY INJURED/DEAD ?! 💀

*sigh*

“Fine, don’t snug-”

Zenitsu promptly plops himself onto the futon, interrupting you

“Sword,” you grunt

*double sigh*

Zenitsu places his sword beside the futon, crawls under the kakebuton, and clings to your sleepiness: hands molding to your collarbones, elbows, ribs, hips, thighs — checking the small of your back

“What’s gotten into you?” you mutter fondly, your fingers carding through his surprisingly sweaty hair

“I love you,” he whispers

With an endeared chuckle, you kiss his forehead, humming in agreement, “Love you too, Zeni. Must be tired, yeah? S’okay, you’re home. Rest.”

“Alright, [y/n]-chan,” he nods into your shoulder, hands settling on your chest, relinquishing the final sliver of adrenaline from his anticlimactic discovery, yawning, “Rest.”

I usually hc Inosuke to be a himbo 😇

BUT I ALSO—for this request especially—HC HIM TO BE A PRANKSTER

He def does not announce his arrival, bc that would ruin the opportunity to scare the crap out of you 😈

Tbf, I don’t think he schemes anything elaborate

Mostly entirely just jump scares

Lowkey prob times his returns for morning or afternoon, bc he can’t really scare you if you’re asleep

He’s still a himbo, so he certainly wouldn’t wake you up via scaring

But you’re not an idiot lmao

So you catch on quickly

Now, Ik some ppl develop immunity to jump scares

—My childhood friend jump scared me all the time… he can no longer scare me lol

—Not necessarily bc Ik he’s there, but bc I’m desensitized regardless

Aaand if that’s your case, then hehehe you bet your ass Inosuke tries even harder to scare you

Like, you’ve basically challenged him to a Can-I-Scare-[y/n]-? contest

A one sided contest that you did not consent to participating in 🙃

Again tho, he doesn’t conjure mastermind plans

Nah-

More like he finds shittier and shittier hiding spots 😌

Behind the potted plant in the hallway? “Inosuke. I can literally see you. All of you. Welcome home, by the way”

Under the futon? “You realize your body makes a blatantly obvious Insouke shaped lump? I know you’re there.”

In the washroom? “Oh. You're back! If you wanted to bathe with me, then you could’ve asked? No reason to creep around like a perv. We’re partners, remember?”

Your smoothness absolutely ~infuriates him

Ffs dude 😓

What’s a man gotta do to get a rise outta you ?! 😵

NOT TO MENTION

Ohmygosh ahaha

The one time you decide to hide instead? Perhaps you were at the opposite end of the estate, so you happened to hear/see him coming before he realized you were home ?? BRUH YOU TOTALLY MADE HIM SQUEAL LIKE A BOAR

Poor Inosuke, just minding his own business brainstorming new hiding spots

But he swears something—someone?—is following him

And you’d assume w/ his spectacular awareness and senses that he’d put two and two together

But he admittedly lets his guard down a tad whenever he’s home

Neglecting to consider that, if there’s one place you have an equal advantage of awareness/sense in, it’d be the house that y’all share

So you’re able to shadow him w/o him ever connecting the dots

Until it’s too late 🤭

“ARRRRGHHHdwgifybhvobnsgb !!!!!”

—Bc I feel that keyboard smashing accurately represents his curdling scream 😂

“YOU!” Inosuke jabs an accusatory finger at your forehead, “YOU AREN’T HOME ?!?!?!”

You raise an amused eyebrow

“Nonono, like, you’re home, bUT YOU’RE NOT HOME?!” he’s simultaneously facepalming, willing himself to shut up, and attempting to even out his breath quietly

Ofc, you aren’t fooled in the slightest after his visceral reaction

“I missed you,” you grin triumphantly, thoroughly pleased w/ yourself

“You suck,” he growls

Huffing playfully, you roll your eyes, “Was just giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

“But I don’t ever scare you ?!” 😒

Dayum — right into your trap

“You’re not wrong,” you smirk meanwhile, insert Inosuke’s face w/ that maths equation meme as he struggles to understand your double negative

“So it’s one to zero,” he scoffs, arms crossing, “I’m not giving up!”

“IT’S NOT A COMPETITION!”

“IT IS A COMPETITION !!!!!”

🥴

You begrudgingly tug Inosuke into a hug — a compromise and an indulgence

“Does this mean you surrender?” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, his hands grasping gently at your hips

“If it does, then you just reciprocated, so that would make this a tie,” you murmur

His grip tightens as he nips at your earlobe, glowering, “Never mind,” he closes his eyes, “You aren’t surrendering,” savoring your proximity, “And neither am I.”

ON THE OTHER HAND

If you don’t develop immunity to jump scares

Then Inosuke actually stops pretty soon after he starts

Yes, it’s hilarious how comically wide your eyes get

How you shriek so loudly that Inosuke swears he hears birds scattering

Your cheeks flushed, fingertips almost trembling, amusingly creative strings of curses aimed at his smug expression

100% the jump scare he was going for 🎯

But no, Inosuke doesn’t enjoy torturing you

Feels just as hurt, if not more, by the fear that flickers momentarily through your stare

So he silently vows to never prank—at least, to never jump scare—you again

Maaaybe he doesn’t tell you about his vow tho… just to keep you on your toes 😉

Tanjirou doesn’t intentionally have awful timing

He just perpetually seems to return home from missions at ass o’ clock in the morning ?? ⭐️🌙

Prob bc he rushes home as soon as possible

Bc: why wouldn’t he ??

Why would he extend his time spent w/o you ?????

Does it really matter if he gets back at midnight? 2am? 5am?

Regardless of the time: if he’s home, then he’s w/ you 💘

Tanjirou’s an absolute and utter sweetheart, so the first thing he always does is make sure the house is tidy

Not in a passive aggressive way !!!!! 

In a he-wants-you-to-wake-up-to-a-comfy-cozy-neat-living-space way

He’s mastered the art of washing dishes practically noiselessly, sweeping’s pretty quiet, and he’s mindful to wait until his eyes adjust to the soft darkness of being indoors so he doesn’t accidentally knock over/trip on anything while putting away clutter

Buuut #plot twist 😁

You know that Tanjirou’s an absolute and utter sweetheart, so you rarely neglect dirty dishes, usually sweep before heading to bed, and keep clutter to a minimum whether he’s home or not

Bc damn it !!

Just as he feels that you deserve to wake up to an organized household; you feel that he deserves to return from missions w/o having to worry about even more work

—FYI: you both deserve the world 🥺

Not that he ever feels like he has to worry about the house, nor does he ever consider it work to do so

Sometimes you’ll leave him a plate to wash, or a random book to shelve

Bc you also understand that just as you derive joy and pleasure from getting to take care of him, he too derives joy and pleasure from getting to take care of you

“Thank you for finishing the dishes!” you’ll exclaim later, pecking his nose

“It was just one-” he’ll smile brightly, blushing at your adoration

But your gesture—thoughtfulness—never escapes him

The second thing

He always does is walk carefully, soundlessly, to the bedroom

I hc that Tanjirou strips before he lets himself in

Bc he knows how loud undressing can be — gosh forbid his katana slip and clatter to the floor !!

So he removes his outer layers, lays them in a folded pile, triple checks that he’s holding his katana securely obvi shouldn’t leave it completely unattended, and finally permits himself to enter the bedroom

There’s a high likelihood Tanjirou’s addicted to your scent

Specifically: your scent as you sleep

BUT NOT IN A WEIRD WAY ?? 😫

Like, you know that feeling of burying your face in your favorite blanket? Favorite pillow?

The scent of coming home?

Of melting into walls of familiarity? Of knowing precisely which floorboards creak? Or where all the stains on the carpets are? Of safety? Belonging?

—Important tangent: I recognize many ppl may not know that feeling

—And I don’t mean to be insensitive or ignorant to such a reality

Sure, Tanjirou’s grateful to be home

Physically in one piece, sheltered, breathing

And he’s grateful to be home

Emotionally

You are—your scent is—that feeling

Reassuring as spring’s floral notes; sweet as summer’s vibrant tang; promising as autumn’s complex palette; grounding as winter’s clarity

The third thing he always does (after putting his sword down lol) is tuck himself delicately, tenderly, around your inviting warmth

Unless you’re an extremely light sleeper, Tanjirou’s def able to snuggle into you w/o rousing you

If you hog the kakebuton, then that’s fine too, bc he runs hot anyway

Plus, you’re likely to shift subconsciously to accommodate the newfound ~obstacle, creating an opportunity for him to wiggle under the kakebuton ☺️

What he does from here depends on how exhausted he is

If he’s exhausted, then he conks out before he knows he’s conking out 😴

But that’s okay! Bc he’s made it home, and is contently spooning you

What more could he ask for ?? 🥰

If he’s not quite tired yet, then he talks to you in a hushed, affectionate tone

About his mission — duh

About how much he missed you — duh x 2

About how much he loves you — duh x 1,000

Will he tell you everything again when you’re actually awake?

Yup

There’s just something about talking to a loved one as they sleep that’s… calming? Soothing?

A fragile, precious secret between home and the heart

He can totally talk himself to sleep, btw 🤪

Like, he’s the meditation instructor AND the meditator

And, as secret implies

Tanjirou has no way of knowing that, when the roles are reversed, you talk to him too

“You just… you make me happy, Tan,” as you smooth his eyebrows with your thumb, “Stupid, giddy, pure happy,” tracing the curve of his cheekbones, “And… I…” you bite at your lip, confession teetering nervously despite his clearly sleeping form—like telling someone I love you when you know for sure that they can’t, won’t, hear you—“I think I deserve it?”

He squeezes your hip, an involuntarily, gentle touch

And somehow

You just know

If he was awake, then his only response would be

“I know you deserve it.”

#kamaboko gang #kamaboko squad #kamaboko trio #headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #agatsuma zenitsu #zenitsu x reader #hashibira inosuke #inosuke x reader #kamado tanjirou x reader #tanjiro x reader #request

[sobsicles]

claire's not expecting them to be at the door. she blinks at the sight of four men all huddled on the stoop with flowers and what appears to be bags of food flowing from their arms. jack is peeking above a bouquet, beaming at her.

"who's at the door?!" jody calls from the kitchen, her voice muffled by the sound of grease popping and the clanking of pans and spatulas meeting over and over.

"god," claire calls back, because she likes to think she's funny.

there's a beat of silence, and then jody's sticking her head out the kitchen. the moment she sees them, she breaks out into a grin and saunters over, shoving the spatula in claire's hand as she chatters away.

"what's going on out there?" donna asks as claire escapes back to the kitchen to poke at food jody is apparently willing to burn just because the winchesters decided to show their faces today of all days.

"judgement day," claire says dryly.

donna shares a look with patience. "haven't we dealt with that already a few times?"

"only by association," claire admits, "but i wouldn't put it past them to bring it along with 'em now. the boys are here."

"oh, isn't that nice?" donna chirps, already popping up from her chair. "i didn't know they were stopping by today."

"wonder how sam's doing," patience agrees, wandering out the kitchen right along with donna. claire can hear everyone cracking up and talking in the living room.

trust the winchesters to shake things up just by showing up. can't have one goddamn day, can they? well, that's not true. in their case, as far as claire is concerned, they're shitty for showing up and shitty for not. someone has to knock 'em all down a peg or two, so she might as well be the one.

"what did that chicken ever do to you?" kaia asks teasingly as she sidles into the kitchen and stops by the stove, hip-checking claire out of the way to take over.

"the boys are here," claire informs her.

kaia raises her eyebrows. "like, the boys as in the winchesters, or is this a milkshake pun?"

"i can only be so gay, sweetheart," claire says, shooting her a flat look.

"raise the bar a little. could be gayer. you can always be gayer," kaia teases, reaching out to sneak her hand around claire's hip, her eyes bright with amusement.

"you know what? you're right," claire agrees and immediately tries to cop a feel while kaia laughs and dances out of range.

jack appears in the doorway. "hello," he says, whispering for some reason. "claire, i need your help."

"no," claire says, not even glancing at him. she continues to try and put her hand up kaia's shirt, just to see her laugh.

"can i borrow twenty dollars?" jack asks.

"no. aren't you god?"

"yes, but i don't get paid to be."

"well, sucks for you. borrow money from cas," claire mutters, settling in behind kaia as she focuses on the food on the stove, swatting lazily at claire's roaming hands.

"he'll just borrow money from dean."

"borrow from sam."

"he'll just borrow money from dean."

"borrow from—wait, why does it matter if it's from dean? just borrow from him."

jack huffs. "i can't. i need the money for dean. i have a card, and i read online it's customary to give money with a card. also, will you sign it?"

"you got dean a card?" claire asks, craning her head around to stare at jack skeptically.

"yes."

"don't tell me it's for what i think it is."

"mother's day," jack confirms unironically.

claire wheezes out a laugh. "oh my god."

"there's a pen in the catty on the fridge," kaia says, clearly amused.

"yeah. yeah, this is—yeah." claire chokes on more laughter and stumbles towards the group of pens in the magnet container on the fridge. she waggles her fingers at jack, clearing her throat, lips twitching. "hand it over, beanstalk. you're a fucking genius."

"oh! thank you," jack declares cheerfully, passing over the card. "so, can i borrow twenty dollars?"

"hell no," claire says. she braces the card against the fridge and swallows down a laugh. sam has already signed it. this just gets better and better. happy mother's day, old man, aka the secondary source of my mommy and daddy issues. you're going for gold with this double-whammy, she writes.

"but i need it," jack insists, staring at her with wide eyes.

claire shrugs. "tough break, kid. what, cas doesn't give you an allowance? is it just me, or are dads getting stricter these days?"

"i didn't think about it in advance," jack admits sadly. "i want to do it right for the holiday. it's mother's day, claire."

"i'm well aware. sorry to break it to you, kid, but last I checked, your mom's as dead as mine," claire tells him, her voice flat. he frowns and she forces herself not to feel bad. everything that sucks for him sucked for her first, so her sympathy levels are a little drained. "father's day will roll around eventually, and you've got a long line of those, so wait your turn."

"i've already done something for my mother today," jack says slowly, his eyebrows furrowed. "i visited her in heaven."

claire snorts derisively and passes the card back over. "must be nice."

"it was," jack agrees, completely missing the point. "i really can't borrow twenty dollars? i'll pay you back."

"nah," claire says. "who cares anyway? wait, why is dean the mom?"

"well, castiel is my father."

"ah, so it's about them having the hots for each other, then? really, kid, you coulda just made dean your step-dad."

jack blinks. "they have the...hots for each other? you mean sex. they have sex?"

"you know what?" claire points at him with her free hand. "i'm not gonna burst your bubble on that one. you've got enough issues on your own without wondering if mommy and daddy still have a spark, so I'm gonna leave that alone. i've got five dollars. take it or leave it."

"deal," jack says immediately.

money is exchanged, and jack looks like he's on cloud nine. claire's just stoked to see the expression on dean's face when he gets the card. it's a homemade card and everything, nothing like the two claire, kaia, patience, and alex got for jody and donna.

claire helps kaia finish up the chicken, which promptly gets set aside to wait on the rest of the food in the oven. sam wanders in at some point to drop off the food they brought. dessert, by the looks of it. pies and cakes that go in the fridge. it's kind of them, but claire would shoot herself in the foot before she ever admits it.

she lets kaia tug her into the living room where everyone is already at, rolling her eyes at how cheered everyone seems just because the winchesters happened to grace their doorstep. really, they all suck.

but also—and claire will never admit this, not even to save her own life—it's nice to see 'em again. it's nice that they've come to celebrate the day in jody and donna's name, giving them flowers and such. it's nice that they hang around for a bit and don't bring the world crashing down on everyone for the duration of their stay.

and, well, it's nice to see cas, too.

he perches up next to the couch that claire is squeezed on with alex, donna, kaia, and jack. kaia is practically in her lap, but claire is secretly glad for the excuse. while everyone talks and has conversations across one another, cas focuses entirely on her.

another thing claire will never admit is how reluctantly pleased by that she is. it warms her. stupidly, it turns soft and gooey in her chest that he automatically gives her his undivided attention over everyone else, even jack. but, then again, it's not cas' day, so she doesn't have to look too close to that feeling. it's mother's day, so it's not about him.

when the food is ready, they reconvene in the kitchen, and that's when they crack out the cards and gifts. claire is practically vibrating with laughter before jack has even brought his card out. before that, though, she smiles softly and strokes kaia's thigh under the table as jody and donna read their cards and chuckle at the messages, their gazes warm and their smiles sweet. they look happy. they deserve to be.

"okay, last one," claire announces, grinning at jack. she's starting to think she likes this kid if he's an agent of chaos like this.

and okay, maybe she hates him a little in abstract, but in detail, she finds that she does actually like him. you kinda just wanna put him in your pocket without meaning to, she's learned. there's too much to explore with the whole psuedo sibling thing and parents that aren't parents, as well as parents that are but didn't choose to be, only he did choose one of them, and it wasn't her. it's complicated, but underneath it all, there's a vibrant love there that she can't look directly at. sometimes, she despises that she's included in it; yet, just the same, she's thankful that she is.

"oh hell," dean mutters, swinging his gaze between alex and patience. "one of you...ya know? did we miss something?"

claire snorts.

"what? no," alex replies, grimacing. "i have no idea what claire's talking about. claire, what the hell are you talking about?"

"jack?" claire prompts in a wheeze.

"here you go," jack chirps, holding out the card to dean, beaming. "happy mother's day."

the expression on dean's face is somehow even better than claire imagined. she howls with laughter while sam buries his face in his hands, his shoulders jerking. cas squints at jack, and jody's eyebrows fly up at the same exact time that donna grins.

"is this a joke?" dean sputters.

"no, no, nope," claire chokes out, nearly fucking crying with laughter. "happy mother's day, dean."

"you gotta take it, man," sam agrees, clearing his throat and biting back a smile as he bobs his head dutifully towards the card.

dean fixes sam with a flat look and snatches the card. "you're all so fucking—sam, you signed it?!"

"happy mother's day," sam says, his mouth pinched, visibly trying not to laugh.

"do you like it?" jack asks earnestly. "i made the card, sam signed it first, and claire provided the money."

"i—" dean stares down at the card, then heaves a sigh and looks up at jack. it's clear to him that—out of everyone—jack is clearly taking this very seriously. he offers him a weak smile, then swallows. "yeah, s'great, kid. thank you. sam, you are dead to me. claire, i will be spending this on something you hate. cas, this is somehow your fault."

"yup, sounds like a mother to me," jody declares, holding up her beer with a smile.

"welcome to the club," donna agrees, holding hers up as well. "everyone else annoys the shit out of you, but you love 'em anyway."

dean sighs and clinks his beer to theirs.

#sobs adventures in writing #happy mother's day to all the spn moms!!! #dreamhunter #destiel adjacent #sort of? #look i just wanted to write something cute okay let me have this lmao #sobs says things #claire bear #jack jack #dean bean #cas bby #jody mills #donna hanscum #kaia nieves #spn ladies #sammeh

[miekasa]

okay but what about airport!levi? he gives quiet businessman vibes sitting in his slacks and turtleneck

IN HIS TURTLENECK 😭😭 He would also be quiet and to himself, but not in the emo way. You got me thinking about all of them now, so here are my other thoughts about the boys at the airport.

Levi

He thinks the idea of separating classes on an airplane is beyond stupid, but if the flight is particularly long, or particularly packed, he’s not above paying for business class for a little extra personal space for the two of you.

When he doesn’t do that, tho, he never picks your guys’ seats ahead of time, so sometimes you’ll be separated. Good thing he’s also not above lying at the check-in desk, “I’m in Zone 1, could my wife be seated next to me so that we can board together?”

They respond with an “of course,” and move your seats together, and Levi walks back with a content nod of appreciation. You are not married, and marriage sucks about as much as class separation on a 30 foot long plane, but it has its benefits.

Masks on, regardless. No debates. Pandemic or not, the mask stays on. Do not perceive him, keep the pressurized air sharing to a minimum.

Doesn’t wander much in the airport. There’s nothing in there that he hasn’t seen already, except for the marked up prices on touristy t-shirts.

And if you wander, he’ll usually just sit in the waiting area to watch your bags while you window shop and do your thing. If you’re gone for more than 30 mins, he might call, under the pretenses of, “Making sure you didn’t get lost. You know that Starbucks was near gate 41 to the left, not the right, right?” Like he’s a comedian or something 🙄

He does encourage you to get snacks before you board, tho. Airplane food is gross, and he would much rather pay for a $13 sandwich that you can snack on later, than for you to have to eat mush.

He’s got a little portable mug he takes with him for when he’s wants to buy a hot drink before getting on his flight. It’s cute.

Doesn’t fall asleep on the plane ever. No matter how long the flight is—at most, he’ll take a quick power nap somewhere in the middle if it’s over 9 hours, but other than that, he’s good to go.

Doesn’t mind if you fall asleep, and he always adjusts your neck pillow to make sure you don’t get cramps.

Jean

Travel champion. This man loves being in the airport even though he’s convinced it’s a time capsule, he fucking loves it.

King of “your airport fashion matters, babe.” Not necessarily wearing a whole three piece suit, but he does put in a little effort; it’s not just the first pair of sweats he has laying around.

Swears coffee tastes better in the airport. It does not. That does not stop him from buying it. He should learn to quit tho, especially for someone who hates airplane bathrooms as much as he does.

Charming with all the security personnel and desk assistants. You could be checking in for a flight at 4am, and Jean’s got people smiling and cheery for their shifts.

Bitches about the selection of movies on the flight, and learns to just download his own ahead of time. Gets really startled when he’s watching something and the flight attendants try to grab his attention for food or drinks—the very loud, classic, Jean Kirstein “HUH?”

On that note, he also gets startled by the loudspeaker announcements in the airport. He doesn’t know why he has to hear about American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun, when he is not on American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun.

Not opposed to paying extra for better airplane food or drinks on the plane if it’s the right time of day. He always finds something to toast to, plus he likes to treat you whenever and wherever he can.

Takes care of your overhead luggage and helps out the people around him if he sees they’re struggling. Gets shy when you call him a gentleman for it, and he rubs his neck, grumbling, “I was just helping the line move a little faster.”

Great timing, generous, will pick up your checked bags for you, and already rented a car a week in advance: 10/10 travel buddy.

Porco

He doesn’t like planes and there’s no solid reason why—nothing bad happened to him as a kid, and it’s not even that rare unfortunate incidents freak him out or anything—something flying just makes him a bit uneasy.

He won’t say it though, and he tries to keep it together when you’re checking in, but you can tell he’s anxious once you’re sitting and waiting for your flight to board.

He’ll ask to switch seats if you have the window seat, because somehow the feeling of being boxed in between the plane wall/window and another person makes it feel more like a car than a plane and he’s okay with that.

Going to the airport is one of the few times he hair won’t be styled, and falls in his face a bit. He usually throws on a beanie to cover it up, but you think he looks pretty cute either way.

Can’t usually fall asleep and he hates it because he just sits there thinking about the worst for the entire duration of the flight. But when you travel with him for the first time and coax him into taking a nap it’s so much better.

It’s about the only time he’ll let himself be publicly babied by you; but it makes everything so much easier that he doesn’t even mind.

So now, whenever you get on flights, he just puts his hood up, lays his head on your shoulder and waits for the magic to happen.

Bonus: you’re traveling with his friends, and Pieck and Marcel past to your seats, surprised to see Porco fast asleep on your shoulder. Pieck squeals, going on about how you must be a wizard to have gotten him to nap, to which Marcel just shakes his head, “Nah, he’s just really in love with her. Look at his face, that’s the calmest he’s been since he was five.”

Connie

Loves the airport. Not an ounce of organization in his soul though. By that I mean, yeah, he’s probably forgotten his passport at home, or forgotten that a full size bottle of body wash cannot go into his carry-on luggage.

Forgets to wear shoes that easy to take off and is fumbling over himself after the security check trying to lace them back up or put them back on.

Likes for you guys to have coordinating sweatsuits, and even though you don’t travel super often, Connie’s got at least 3 pairs of them lined up for you guys.

Sweet enough to drop plans or rearrange his schedule to travel with you if you were originally gonna be alone. He knows you can handle yourself, but he doesn’t want for you to travel alone if you don’t have to, especially if you’re going someplace far and/or for an extended period of time.

He always finds breakfast food to eat before he gets on his flight (if you two even have time to spare for food that is). It could be 9pm, but Connie’s asking for a breakfast wrap.

Hates waiting in the little pre-flight area. Claims it’s boring as hell and that’s why there’s no reason to get there 3 hours early 🙄🙄

He always spends at least 30 minutes browsing all the movie and TV show options available on-board, loudly exclaiming in excitement when they have something cool to watch—only to fucking fall asleep 10 minutes later. Right on top of you when he was oh-so-excited to watch Madagascar 2.

Always steals the aisle seat, even if it’s yours. It’s probably for the best though, because he has to get up to pee at least twice, no matter how short your flight is.

Makes some cheeky remark about you meeting him in the bathroom. He doesn’t mean it... unless he does. Unfortunately, you’ve never... successfully been able to do that out of fear of being caught by the flight attendants, but there have been a few quickies in the “family” (“It’s ethical, because technically we’re participating in the act of making a family, babe”) bathroom before you boarded. It’s his fault, not yours.

Armin

He really likes planes, and traveling in general. I think trains would be his favorite mode of transportation, but airplanes are good too.

I hate to say it but he claps when the plane lands. I will not elaborate or defend my stance on this.

Prefers the window seat because he likes to look out at the clouds as he’s in the sky.

He took his passport photo a little before he cut his hair, so the security personnel always hold it up and flicker between his ID photo and his current appearance a few times before stamping it. It makes him a little embarrassed because he can’t tell if they think he looks better or worse and sometimes he’s really fighting for his life convincing them that that’s him in the picture 😭

Listens to music rather than downloading a movie or watching a show, and always brings wire headphones to the airport so that it’s easier to share and listen with you.

If you fall asleep on him first, he’ll likely fall asleep on you shortly after. If he’s tired enough, he’ll fall asleep first, though he’s somewhat embarrassed and disappointed because he wanted to see the descent and skyline outside.

When he’s not asleep or window-watching, he’s somewhat fidgety out of excitement, rather than nervousness. He’s excited to be traveling and looks forward to wherever you’re going, even if it is just a weekend long work trip.

Hates traveling alone, though. It just feels particularly lonely to him to be going someplace foreign without company by his side. So, he’ll call you at every checkpoint and send you updates.

He only ever buys two things in duty free: shot glasses with the name of the city/country you’re traveling to, and whatever variety of button down short-sleeves are available to him.

Erwin

You knew this was coming, but this man is absolutely at the airport 18 hours before your flight takes off, and he’s driving like a manic getting there, like you don’t have all the time in the world.

Fascinated by anything and everything in duty free. Definitely spends more money than necessary on your return flight on the grounds that he was getting a good deal.

Exchanges money in the airport and keeps cash in his fanny pack. There’s no traveling without the fanny pack.

Plays crossword puzzles on his phone on the plane, and it’s just about one of the only games he has. That and Candy Crush—I get the feeling he’d be on level 500+ of that game and he always knocks out at least 10 levels on a flight.

Always a little surprised when he feels his your head on his shoulder, but he says nothing, and acts like he didn’t even notice, but there’s a telling little smile on his face.

Takes the most foul selfies of him and your sleeping self. In his defense, he had the best intentions; but that angle was flattering nobody. It’s too bad he’d already paid for the in-flight wifi and sent it to Hange because now you’ll never live them down.

You could probably get him to put on a (skincare) face mask during your flight. He forgets to take it off tho, and if you don’t tell him, he’d fully walk through customs with it on his face.

Accidentally gets drunk because he doesn’t understand that just because he can handle several glasses of whiskey in his favorite bar on a Friday night, does not mean it will translate on a plane.

#anonymous #yeah this is a roast of erwin a bit but im right i know i am #aot x reader #levi x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #connie springer x reader #armin x reader #erwin x reader #porco x reader #aot headcanons

[thisisthehardestthing]

18+ Dark - BNHAREM collab

This is for the BNHAREM server collab! Please see the masterlist HERE

authors note: This is a choose your own adventure style collab. Please go read the amazing intro written by @iwvs-on-ao3​ in the masterlist! I hope you enjoy the below x

Warnings: gloryhole, watersports, blowjob

tags: @enjifuckersupreme​​ , @joyousandverywarlike​​ , @linestrider​​ , @pleasantanathema​​ , @present-mel​​ , @elektraeriseros​​

Above the thrum of the party was an equally dark room, the only light a variety of monitors, most showing a green to signify night vision, some flashing purple, green, blue, beiges, others a fully red glow. Bodies contorted on the monitors, a few were close-up and a few had a birds eye view of the entire room. One in particular, had a fisheye scope, someone was ushered in, head abnormally large, before turning left and right, and the door closed.

A late comer, Endeavor hated tardiness.

He grunted as he adjusted his thin rimmed, black glasses and glanced at the different screens. He gazed, unamused at the varieties of different ways heroes, sidekicks, and, under special supervision, villains, participated in sexual acts. He unmuted one of the screens, screams filled the sound-proofed room and he winced, instantly shutting the sound off once more. He peered at it, making sure it was consensual pain, before unmuting the next one. It was a cacophony of moans, grunts, echoing as though in an opera hall; the orgy was in full swing.

The Number One hero unzipped his expensive black tailored pants, the wool-silk blend pleating fluidly as they were pushed down his thighs, bespoke from Dior Homme. A large palm stroked his cock, hardening quickly to the lewd noises. He focused on a particular pussy, watching someone with a dick too thin to be his pound into whom he assumed to be Mount Lady. Her blonde hair was pulled back as she sucked off some kind of monster cock, a strange shape that leaked cum all over her face, dripping down to the bodies below her. He heard squelching, grunts, slaps against skin, and he closed his eyes for a few moments as he lazily fisted his cock, rolex glinting in the dim light; his goal was not to get off, but rather just to release some pressure, tension, stretch out his pleasure for the duration of the entire night.

It’d been a few years since Endeavor had begun to host these… exclusive gatherings. He never participated, only surveyed. Some sick part of him enjoyed watching, finding pleasure in all the kinks he provided. His eyes darted to other screens, watching a masked man contort in such a way that his back seemed to break to suck himself off, a woman fucked herself on her fingers for an audience, another one taking part in a seemingly endless train, cunt stuffed full of different types of semen. His cock especially twitched when he came across someone getting pissed on, marked in an erasable way, almost cumming in his hand as a loud moan echoed from the orgy screen in combination.

Fuck, he thought as he pulled away from his cock, lifting up the hem of his black cashmere turtleneck—it was dry clean only—to wipe his precum against his lower abdomen, careful not to get any on his branded clothing. He licked the leftover, humming with approval that his new diet plan helped his taste. He tugged the sweater off, revealing the black oiled leather harness underneath, and folded it neatly onto the desk.

Movement in the bottom right screen caught his attention and he saw you, shifting awkwardly in the four by four meter cubicle. You weren’t the usual person for that section, obviously not the regularly hired prostitutes and sex workers; where the hell did they find you? Endeavor grumbled. He’d specifically demanded that there would be no new employees, the roster approved by him alone, not after the press almost got wind of him and what he’d been orchestrating behind the scenes of hero life. The number one hero could not be seen as the head of a lucrative sex society.

Your hands, tiny from the camera angle, drew the outline of the glory hole before settling yourself in front of it on the pillows. The snort that left Endeavor's nose came out harshly, slight flames tickling his upper lip.

Amature, he couldn’t help but think. You’d learn quickly not to sit too close; there’s no telling what might come through that circular cut-out in the wood.

He muted the orgy, unmuting your cubicle and listened in. It was quiet, quieter than the other rooms, and he waited with baited breath for the first of the participants. The glory-hole was one of the more vanilla kinks in the estate, yet it was one of his favorites. Without knowing who was on the other side, he would sometimes try and guess. Your exhale brought him from his distracted musings, the rise and fall of your chest beneath a normal T-shirt seemed so innocent.

You were innocent, he realised with raised eyebrows, and he leant forward in his black office chair. It creaked under his mass, the straps of his harness bit into his shoulders as he readjusted his glasses to see you clearly. You better do a good fucking job, his reputation demanded it.

There was a knock on the wood, the signal that someone was on the other side waiting, and Endeavor watched with an intensity at the way your body flinched at the sound, he even heard a squeak that made his cock twitch. The first genital of the night poked through the hole. You were lucky, he mused, it was a normal dick that curved slightly to the right, normal girth, average length, underwhelming, so he let his eyes wander to the other screens.

He watched a few couples partake in shibari, the tying of intricate knots and designs well underway. The way the ropes twisted and turned had always piqued Endeavors interest, but he knew he was not a patient enough man to take part and would probably leave his partner in pain. A sudden grunt, moan and squeal switched his attention back to you, and now Endeavor was interested. It had barely been three minutes since you began and the guy had already cum?

He watched as you wiped cum off your cheek to shake your hand so that it dripped in a glob to the floor, the way you winced at the taste and finished an entire bottle of water—rookie, will have to piss soon—before setting yourself back up for the next person of the night. This time, however, Endeavor did not take his eyes off you for a second. He had never been more fascinated by someone sucking cock before. For someone that looked so normal, you had a real talent. Your cheeks hollowed just right, your head bobbed with a rhythm that made it impossible to look away from, it had him wondering how you would be with some of the… stranger genitals around, how those pretty lips would look wrapped around his monster of a cock.

Maybe he’ll let you taste it, just maybe. He had never taken part before, but there was something about you that he had to try out for himself. The next guy came in under five minutes again, but this time you swallowed, gagging and dry heaving with your face turned towards the camera.

Fuck, Endeavor thought, his hand fisting his length once more, the tears in your eyes made a fire burn in his chest, internally compared to the flames that danced on his body in his hero suit. You wiped your tears with the bottom of your t-shirt, flashing skin, a bra, lace, before you drank more water. Oh, how interesting, he mused. A lace bra with such unassuming clothes? Endeavor wondered if you’d planned that, just in case someone were to see you without your shirt. He thought about whether it was a matching set.

But his train of thought was interrupted when he saw a flash of light on one of the other monitors. He cursed, swiveling around to peer at it intently, before pressing a button to call in security. There was always some kind of fight that would break out, either if someone’s turn in a train was too long or if it was because someone didn’t consent to a sexual act. That’s the real reason Endeavor was in this room. Sure, he liked to watch, but he had to make sure it was safe, too. It was the secret to his success.

The rest of the night flew by. He watched all the monitors, with his eyes periodically glancing at you. He couldn’t believe the desire that sparked in his gut from seeing such a simple act. Then, burning jealousy, raging from out of the blue, when a few heroes—whom he’d keep unnamed—entered the cubicle to fuck you. He saw your cries, both in pleasure and pain, but you never once said ‘no,’ so he didn’t intervene. Endeavor could keep his emotions in check, no matter how badly he wanted to throttle Gang Orca for defiling anything but your slutty mouth.

He saw the rooms begin to empty, one by one, as heroes, villains and more trickled out, thoroughly fucked out of their minds, climbing into black chauffeured cars with tinted windows in the early morning, bliss apparent across their faces. There were always a few that stayed behind, those that understood what ‘aftercare’ was, taking time to soothe the elite prostitutes' aches, burns, welts, bruises and muscles. Most of those that took those measures were not who you’d expect; many were villains, underground heroes, those not usually in the spotlight that understood the importance of picking up the pieces after what was dropped, left behind.

Endeavor looked at your monitor again and ran his fingers through his short red hair, contemplating his next move. You were still in the booth even though no one had bothered you for at least an hour. The black lace underwear set you wore was bunched up next to you where it was almost ripped off your needy flesh. He saw inklings of dried cum on your belly, arms, hair through the high definition of the screen. It made him sick. He felt protective over your frail body, and in some twisted way, possessive. Like always, everyone ignored the glory hole at the end of the night. While most whores in the converted cathedral got some kind of soothing treatment, that four by four cubicle was always left in the dark, forgotten. And you were too.

The hulking mass of muscle sighed as he stood up, folded his glasses away and stacked it neatly on top of his sweater. With a final click of a button, he turned your monitor recording off, leaving a black square in its place.

**

You were exhausted, fucked, sore in all your holes, almost wanting to laugh at yourself and the predicament you were in. You couldn’t believe you did this for money. Was it worth it? No. Well, maybe? Granted, you could’ve refused, you were asked every time before your cunt was stuffed. In the moment, you wanted it. You just wished you weren’t so sore.

How long had it been since you were curled in the corner of the cubicle, knees to your chest? You shifted, feeling the dried cum on your belly crumble and flake, making you wince. Your eyes had gotten used to the perpetual darkness, and you reached for your bunch up underwear, using it to scrub what you could off you. You inadvertently pressed on your bladder, and with wide eyes, realized just how badly you had to go.

Fuck, you scrambled to your heels, feeling for your jeans and t-shirt, and stood to get dressed when the door behind you opened. The golden glow of the hallway filtered in, before a looming shadow darkened the space once more. You had never noticed that the pillows were a plum with golden trim before. You felt frozen to the spot, back to the door, clothing crumpled in your claw-like grip. The voice that washed over you raised goosebumps over your entire body, it vibrated your bones.

“Turn around,” he commanded, and your body twisted automatically, following his wish immediately.

Your mouth dropped open and your head tilted back as you gazed up at the Number One Hero, the orchestrator of the night, Endeavor. Your heart hammered in your chest, an uneven beat, and you brought the fabric in your hands to cover yourself, feeling too naked under his piercing stare. Even in the dark, the blue of his eyes shone as if lit by its own fire.

“Who are you?” Endeavor’s voice was weighted, like it contained all the authority in the world and you stammered out your name, lowering your head in a bow. You did not expect him to repeat it back to you, and your eyes shot up to stare at his shadowed mouth moving to taste the word on his tongue.

“This is your first time here.” Not a question, but you answered.

“Yes, sir.” There was a tug at the corner of his lip.

“For the money?”

“Yes, sir.” A flash of lightning in his eyes.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

You paused, uncertain how to answer, a whirlwind had begun beneath your ribs in response to the storm standing in the doorway. Yet, you sighed, giving in to the truth.

“Yes, I did,” you heard thunder so you added on quickly, “sir.”

“Good.”

The word of approval sent heat licking down your spine, a pooling between your thighs, not for the first time that night, but you hoped it would be that last. Reluctantly, you met his analytical gaze, the shadows of the room swallowing you whole. Your body felt abused, tired, and you still really needed the bathroom. Endeavor grunted, running thick fingers through short hair, it began to flame, before he stepped in and shut the door behind him.

His tall frame overwhelmed the small space of the room, shadows danced in orange with the flicker of his fire. You gulped, smelt the spice of his cologne and absorbed the heat of his skin. Endeavor’s palms enclosed yours, peeling the clothing from your clutches to drop them unceremoniously to the floor. He watched as you shifted, weight transferring from foot to foot, raising an eyebrow.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asks, the sincerity in his voice shocked you, and you froze, shaking your head vigorously.

“No, sir,” then with a whisper, “I need to go to the ladies room.”

The ladies room, he chuckled. So innocent, so polite, how cute, “you can hold it for a while longer.”

It wasn’t a mere suggestion, but a command. Dumbfounded, you nodded. You really couldn’t, but you felt this overwhelming urge to please him, make him praise you for doing a good job. What kind of spell could this man weave? His hands stroked up your arms, around your biceps, to massage the wound muscles of your shoulders. He wondered if your used sex would still be as tight as the knots in your back. His cock twitched at the thought, only one way to find out.

“I’ve been watching you,” he mused, digging his fingers into the soft skin of your neck, massaging the base of your scalp. “All night. It was interesting.”

He chuckled at the little squeak you let out. Rough fingers tilted your chin up as he leant down, lips inches away. You smelt some sake on his breath, but not enough for you to shrink away. Rather, you wanted to lap it up.

“There are not a lot of women that can suck a cock like you.”

His crude words made you groan, and his lips captured yours, pressing into your body hungrily. Your fingers splayed wide on his bare chest, feeling the tickle of chest hair beneath your palms. They were so soft. The heat emitting from his skin warmed your arms, it lulled you into a sense of comfort. You felt bold, reached around, and hooked your thumbs under the back of his leather harness to tug at it. His tongue traced the wrinkle down the middle of your bottom lip, and you parted for him to enter.

He tasted like smoke, a forest wildfire, and you sucked greedily on the warm tongue tasting your teeth. He moaned into you, the sound carrying the weight of his palms as he gripped the bare flesh of your waist to pull you tighter against him. He wanted to feel that mouth swallow a different muscle. He shifted you backwards, detaching your mouth from his face with a pop.

“On your knees.”

The command ripped through you, threatening to relax all the muscles in your gut, to release what you were so tightly holding. It was painful to concentrate on on your pulsing sex, to keep it in and feel the haze of lust overcome your thoughts at the same time.

“Yes, sir.”

You obeyed, dropping down for the umpteenth time that night. Endeavor watched as you stared up at him obediently through your lashes, your hands that were on his back trailed down to rest on his thighs. He felt the way your fingers tensed against his muscles, the way you strained to stay lucid. You waited for him to undo the button of his suit pants, he was the one in control after all, even if your resolve was crumbling with each passing second.

Endeavor had stroked himself all night, brought himself to the brink of release multiple times that night as he watched you blow dicks that weren’t his. The inflamed head of his cock was angry, weeping terribly as he pumped it with large hands. His lips curled up into a smirk when your mouth dropped open, in shock and hunger to taste him. He knows he would be the best meal you’d eat all night. He brought his cock close to your mouth, tapped it twice against your cheek. You licked your lips before tentatively licking a solid stripe from the base to the tip.

Hm, alright, Endeavor thought, relishing in the way your tongue curved against the underside of his length, pressing against the thick vein protruding from the silky skin. You had just begun, but this pleasure was manageab-oh.

Your tongue swirled around the head, starting at the very tip, circling the slit and lapping at the pre-cum. The circles got larger, and when your lips tightened around his flesh, his eyes shot open to stare down at your concentrating visage. He could see the way you struggled to fit his girth in your mouth, but you were just that skilled. Your lips folded around your teeth, and you slowly swallowed. The plush wall of your cheeks slid around him, suctioning him in deeper as you sucked and moved. It wasn’t deep bobs of your head, taking your time to lubricate his cock, but god, the vacuum in your throat threatened to pull Endeavor down into your body.

Saliva began to dribble from the corner of your lips. Your mouth was so full, his taste so wild, your jaw ached already. Your thighs clenched together, the bundle of nerves between them throbbed to be played with, but you knew you couldn’t, not if you wanted to make a mess of yourself in front of the most powerful man in Japan.

“Fuck,” Endeavor swore, gripping the hair on your head roughly, as though reminding himself that he was not yet swallowed by you, but still in control. His muscles twitched, abs flinching upwards as his cock dragged against your tongue, as you sunk your mouth around him deeper. You were moving slowly, too slowly, and he pistoned his hips forward slightly.

The movement had you straining against him, taken off guard, but you remain relaxed, widening your throat as much as possible to take him all in. You stopped sucking, opting to feel him sheathed in your throat. You wrapped your left thumb in a vice grip, a small trick to help subdue a gag reflex. You didn’t know if it really ever worked, but it was a comfort to have.

The head of his cock pressed past the back of your throat, and he angled his hips slightly to accommodate the direction. For a deep throat, you would’ve preferred to lay on your back at hip height, but you didn’t complain. Tears pricked up at the corner of your eyes, drool escaped down your chin, and dripped onto your bare breast, nipples painfully erect.

Shit, he was almost completely inside your throat. He felt the muscle spasm before it relaxed. He wondered what it took to make you gag. To make you lose yourself.

“I’m going to fuck your throat now.” he warned, even though you couldn’t dispute it. You wanted it. You moaned around him, the vibrations splintered from your throat and into his hardened muscle. The fingers in your hair tightened their grip,then he began to move. His hips swayed back, dislodging the cock from your tight throat, before he thrust back in. His motions were fluid, careful at first, getting you used to the feeling of the heavy weight on your tongue, stretching your jaw. But you were greedy. You’d been swallowing dick’s all night, and your throat was plenty warmed up. You wrenched yourself from your dick, your voice like static as you spoke,

“Don’t go easy on me.”

Endeavor’s eyebrows shot up, shocked at your brashness, but he chortled nonetheless. A small burst of flames erupted from his nostrils before he yanked your mouth back to its rightful place: around his cock. You swallowed him hungrily, your hands gripping the firm hamstring of his leg to pull him closer, deeper, and he did not hold back.

He snapped his hips, feeling the way your lips massaged his length as he dragged himself out and back in. The velour walls of your cheeks shivered as you sucked, your tongue curling back and forth, pressing a hard tip to the vein before furling in a ‘w’ and cupping his cock as it slid. The room was sweltering, and as you sucked, it only got hotter in degree. You felt sweat trickle down the back of your neck from the exertion of keeping upright. The bones in your knees screamed, your thighs quivered from neglect. Endeavor wrapped a moist palm around your throat.

He felt how his dick stretched you out, before retracting. It was the most marvelous experience. Your eyes rolled up to the back of your head, he bent forward, a hand pinched at your nipple and found it covered in drool. The friction ripped a shudder through your body, and you almost lost control as your bladder clenched uncontrollably. You needed to make him cum before you could relax.

With new found vigour, you sucked him in, bobbed your head and fondled his aching testicles. They jumped up in your palms, squeezing tightly together as you rolled them between nimble fingers. Endeavor grunted, thrusting into your willing mouth harder, losing himself in the feeling of being worshipped by you. He loved having someone on their knees, so subservient. But he wanted you to feel pleasure too.

“Touch yourself.”

Your eyes flung open, worried that you wouldn’t be able to handle the pressure to your groin. But you didn’t want to disobey. You dipped your fingers between your slick slit experimentally, almost collapsing at the gentle touch. Fire burned in your gut as your groin throbbed. Fuck, you had to go so badly. With your moistened finger, you rubbed small circles around your clit. The sensitive bundle of nerves instantly tingled, exploding into your body with a shock at the overstimulation of everything you had endured throughout the night.

Endeavor felt how your throat clamped down around him, tightening up as you toyed between your legs. He remembered the bottles of water you drank, the desperate look in your eyes when he had told you to hold it. He did say just a little bit longer. He was getting close, thrusting erratically into your jaw, the tip of your nose brushing against the hair of his pubic bone. He slowed when you spasmed around his length, the lack of oxygen making your head swim. You were drowning.

With each scintillating stroke to your clit, the pressure in you climbed higher, higher, threatening to burst. Endeavor joined your ascent, on the brink of explosion. His command came out in ragged bursts.

“Give in to me.”

It was so simple, the order ripping through you like a wave that spilled onto the shores of ecstasy. You came at the same time that you relaxed, no longer able to hold it back. Warm liquid poured out of you, dripping down your hand, leaving your thighs wet with your piss. There was no smell, the amount of water you consumed made it clear. But it reflected orange in his flame. As it poured out of you, Endeavor released his spill inside your mouth, down your throat, and you gulped it down hungrily.

You were hot, cold, ashamed and so, so far gone in your orgasm. The embarrassment that clawed its way up your spine threatened to curl you inside yourself, but the Pro-Hero kept his grip on your hair. He had pulled out from between your lips. Adding to the heat on your skin, his chin erupted into a beard of flames, lighting up from a sunrise glow to a midday glare.

He took in your dazed gaze, the glazing over them as you stared up at a heavenly light. He tucked himself back into his pants, zipping and buttoning up quickly. He stooped low, wiping at the leftover cum and drool on the corner of your mouth, your lips swollen, almost purple bruises left being sandwiched between your teeth and his cock. He sucked on his thumb, tasting himself like earlier. The diet was definitely working.

Warm palms smoothed down your hair, caressed the muscles of your shoulders as you stayed kneeling before him. You were frozen in place, fully aware you had just pissed yourself, all over your hand. It hung limp next to your body, drops collecting on the ends of your fingers before dripping to the floor. Filthy, what would he think of you. Tears fell down your cheeks and he wiped at them, wrapped his large arms around your waist to slowly pull you to standing.

The joint in your knees creaked as they stretched out, your footing unstable, but he held you. The fire on his face crackled above your head, a dim glow rather than a burning furnace. He could see that you’d never done that before, worried that he had pushed you a bit too far.

“Can I let go?” he asked, the weight of his palms grounding you. You nodded, following his body with your gaze as it shuffled to pick up your discarded clothing.

He folded your jeans, your t-shirt, your long discarded underwear and bra, tucking those safely into his pants pocket before flinging the others over his shoulder. With a single movement, he scooped you up into his arms, a large forearm cradling your back, shielding the side of your breasts if anyone would still be around, and under your knees. You were limp in his grip, shivering with the after effects of your orgasm, burying deeper against his warm skin. He felt the remains of piss drip down your legs, onto his expensive suit, but it didn’t bother him in the slightest. Only you were on his mind now.

He walked you back to his office, giving the top of your head periodic pecks, his thumb stroking the soft skin of your thighs and breast. You felt a bit more alive with each passing second, when the daze gave in to raw emotion: shame, arousal, a hurt ego.

Endeavor closed the door behind him, all the monitors of each room in the mansion empty, the lights on, making it seem innocent once again. He placed you gently onto his comfortable black leather desk chair, reaching for the jug of water to the side and a washcloth he had tucked neatly away in a drawer. It’s what he would use to clean himself up.

He soaked the washcloth with the water, aware of how it might be cool against your skin, so he pressed lightly. You whimpered, eyes snapping down to watch as this hulk of a man kneeled before you, your roles reversed.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice hoarse from the beating it took minutes before. Endeavor caressed the soft skin of your thigh, the flames of his face fizzled out so you could see his clean shaven jaw. He pressed soft kisses into your skin, licking a stripe up the dried piss-streak, tasting its saltiness.

“Ssh, you did well,” he praised, cleaning you up delicately. His large hands seemed too clumsy to work so deftly, but they cleansed you thoroughly.

“I did?” you asked, heavy limbs moving so that you rested a hand in his hair, the other stopping the hand that wiped at the evidence of your shame.

“Yes.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, coming to life once more at the thought of impressing the number one hero. When you were fresh and clean, he took your black panties from his pocket, slipping it around your ankles and dragging it up your legs with care. You lifted your hips for him to fix them properly, and he planted two kisses on your knees before he stood up. He kept your bra tucked away, pulling your t-shirt over your head. Your jeans were folded and placed on his desk.

“Can I take you home?” Endeavor asked you when he pulled you up to standing. Maybe not right now, but he still wanted to feel your pussy pulse around his cock.

“Yes, sir.”

#enji todoroki #bnharem server collab #enji x reader #endeavor #endeavor x reader #bnha #mine #my writing #enji #boku no hero x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #boku no hero

[mejomonster]

i kind of genuinely want to write a vampire dmbj au just because (like a guardian crossover where immortals=mutants) it’s so easy to go okay immortals=vampires and then run with it.

which initially yeah, made me go okay xiaoge as a regular vampire with wu xie. what’s THAT look like (opposed to normal xiaoge... who is basically a reverse vampire, because instead of being the living dead he’s just Living forever, instead of sucking blood his blood physically repels monsters and also heals mortals like Wu Xie when he DRANK IT, and instead of loving his immortality he fucking hates it and is absolutely hellbent on killing every fucking immortal/monster he manages to run into when we first meet him ToT) 

but then i realized like. would hei xiazi Also be a vampire. oh man. xiao hua found himself an immortal but its the most insufferable fucking chaotic bastard you have EVER seen he’s using slang from every and any fucking era at a given time, keeps smiling, carries 100 pairs of sunglasses and keeps trying to sell them, technically can’t go in the sun but he’s got so many layers the fucker can slink around in the day if he’s GOTTA, but its still just like a sexy tanktop underneath the coats and he’s eager to strip and run for the nearest hottie once indoors if he’s not in the middle of a job, happy to work as a hired hitman and just like eat the people he got hired to kill (”hey i have to eat, i might as well get people to PAY me to eat uvu”), and once xiao hua started hiring him the guy started stashing coffins at all his homes and safe houses and every time xiao hua tries to throw them out, burn them, or sell them, more mysteriously appear until eventually he finds boxes of random stuff hei xiazi’s been selling too and xiao hua confronts the fucker but xiao hua only gets a couple minutes into it before he goes “WHO is hiring a masseuse off the street at 2 am???” and then hei xiazi starts with “so there’s prostitutes, then there’s-” and xiao hua tells him he doesn’t want to hear another damn word and that he can store his fucking coffins here if he promises no 2 am ‘masseuse’ gigs are taken for any durations of his stays. to which hei xiazi sidles up to him with too big of a grin mentioning ‘what about you~? i’m sure if you were looking for a massage~ we could do something about that~”. to which xiao hua hisses and mentions he doesn’t want some clammy cold dead hands touching his skin (”but i can warm them up first!”)

Vampire Xiaoge probably tried to kill Hei Xiazi the first time he ran into him. just because of the usual: xiaoge’s always intent on killing other immortal monster seeming fuckers. However that behavior stopped quick as Xiaoge got baffled by how well hei xiazi fit in with humans, with getting work and socializing, and now it just kind of irks xiaoge a little that he’s probably (?) been alive longer but absolutely still has no fucking idea how to blend in (nor does he want to). 

Debating if Xiaoge would be Extra-vampire since he’s the-most-immortal in dmbj usual canon, or if he’d be very odd man out like Blade and be a daywalker (which xiaoge’d probably prefer considering his canon typical urge to kill anything he thinks of as ‘monstrous or immortal like himself’). Either way, eventually xiaoge realizes he needs some stuff again and tries to get into working again. Immediately sees 2000s emo culture and thinks it looks cool and vibes with him personally, adjusts his style accordingly, then fucking takes forever to stop. So when him and hei xiazi DO meetup especially post 2010 they both look slightly out of time in a fashion awkward kind of way except at least Hei Xiazi looks like its from many eras, on purpose, and just makes him seem more like a human. Xiaoge thankfully is so inhumanly hot no one really is bothering to care if he looks like he fits in, except maybe some vampire hunters who prickle at how successful the bastard is.

is San Shu a vampire hunter cause that would be a Concept - even better, a vampire hunter who’s helped vampires and monsters on the down low, so of course when he accuses Xiaoge of murders He’s Committed himself he’s just barely got an actual angle to work with. would that... make wu xie part of a family of vampire hunters, and he’s the baby of the family who wants to be a hunter SO BAD but they won’t ever let him GO out and help because they want his life FAR AWAY from this monster stuff...

then tianzhen falls for. The Vampire. The one Most Often accused of a string of unknown murders done to humans and other vampires alike (and tbh xiaoge probably did some but i bet society just made him into the scapegoat so they can blame him when there’s other actual threats managing to skate by if they blame him - like oh San Shu for example >o>).  

And then of course Xiaoge does not intend to get connected to the world. to give a damn. to become ‘known’ to anybody, let alone someone so connected to the whole mess of monstrous things and the world that gets mixed up with them (Nine Families sure would be involved in that). But there he is, saving this naive fool’s life when the kid managed to push his way onto a hunt, and now Xiaoge is in the awkward position of very much wanting to meet again this cutie who is definitely tied up with the bastard who framed Xiaoge 20 years ago and is currently after the same shit Xiaoge’s been looking for. 

Pangzi, as usual, is badass and competent and good with explosives, a free agent, and has similar chaotic energy to Hei Xiazi except he ‘says’ he’s working with the hunters usually. But until he befriends Wu Xie fully, honestly he’d sell to the highest bidder monster or human, or kill either of them if its the best play for his own benefit. San Shu, and the Wu family in general, is not exactly pleased by Wu Xie’s new found family he is adamandly building up for himself. 

#dmbj #tlt #tlt2 #tlt3 #iron triangle #heihua #pingxie #xiaoge #wu xie #pangzi #xiao hua #hei xiazi #headcanon #writing #@humanlighthouse #@jaecomments

[missjanjie]

Taste of a Poison Paradise | Chapter 9

Title: Taste of a Poison Paradise Summary: Life at Jackie Cox’s strip club, Poison Paradise, isn’t just lapdances and g-strings. There’s enough drama, lust, and heartache to rival any soap opera. None of the girls know what to expect on any given shift, especially while navigating their torrid, complicated relationships. Word Count: ~2.9k (this chapter) / ~27.2k (total) Relationship(s): Lemyanka (Lemon/Priyanka), Crygi (Crystal Methyd/Gigi Goode), Sportsdoll (Jan Sport/Nicky Doll), Jaidie (Jaida Essence Hall/Jackie Cox), BVK (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo/Kameron Michaels), Rosnali (Rosé/Denali Foxx) Rating: E TW: mentions of alcoholism

Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi

Chapter Summary: In the wake of Lemon's outburst at the club, those closest to her process the fallout and realize something needs to be done before she spirals to the point of no return.

-

“Okay, I think that’s the last box,” Juice remarked as she dropped herself down onto the couch. “So, why’d your cousin kick you out again?”

Lemon scoffed and rolled her eyes as she piled up the empty boxes. “She didn’t kick me out, we both decided it was time for me to move.” She decided her college friend-turned-roommate didn’t need to know about the argument she had with Rosé. And she certainly didn’t need to know that she’d rejected her ultimatum of, “if you want to stay here, you can’t keep getting drunk every day.” It had been a week since the incident at the club and she was going to recover from it on her own terms.

“Alright, cool,” she shrugged as she took out her phone and began aimlessly scrolling. “You wanna do something tonight?”

The blonde perched herself on the armrest of the couch, swinging her legs. “We could go to a club and get shitfaced,” she suggested.

Juice shook her head without looking up from her phone. “You can. I mean, I’ll totally go with you and turn shit up, but I don’t drink.”

“More for me.”

Her friend looked her over with a concerned expression, eyes finally pried away from the screen. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked gently. “I mean, I know you’ve been through a lot, have you considered talking to someone about it?”

Lemon shook her head. “I’m fine, I don’t have the emotional capacity for therapy.” She got back up and looked around. “Shit, I guess you don’t have any liquor in here then. I’ll be back,” and after putting her shoes on and grabbing her purse, she was out the door, leaving a concerned new roommate in her wake.

------

Rosé sighed as she passed the joint back to Mik. “This doesn’t make me a bad person, right? I mean the last thing I want to do is make Lemon’s issues about me. But god, that really is what made me realize that I have to do this.”

Mik shook her head as she took a hit. “It’s not your fault, you saw a trainwreck and realized you needed to keep your ass on the tracks.” She finished off the joint and put it out. “Listen, the last thing you wanna do is be that girl who pines over the person she’s sleeping with until it’s too late.”

“You’re right, I know. I’m gonna talk to her,” she exhaled deeply as she pushed herself up. “If Lemon comes around, please don’t have sex with her.”

“Oh fuck off,” she huffed, “that delayed her mental breakdown by at least a week.”

Rosé rolled her eyes as she left. She wasn’t mad at Mik for that, if anything maybe it did help Lemon temporarily by giving her a distraction. But she had so much more on her mind, things that have been brewing since the club incident.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she knocked on Denali’s door, evening out her breathing while she waited for her.

“Hey Rosie,” Denali smiled warmly as she opened the door, leading her inside and shutting it behind them. “What’s up? You usually text me when you’re on your way over.” They sat down on the couch as she spoke, a tinge of concern in her voice.

She swallowed thickly, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. “I know I’ve been distant lately with everything that’s been happening with Lemon. But through all the chaos, I realized something, that keeping your feelings bottled up is dangerous.” Another deep breath, this time she forced herself to look into Denali’s eyes, eyes that she found warmth and comfort in every time she gazed into them. “What I’m trying to say is that I have feelings for you. I don’t just wanna be fuck buddies, it’s not enough. I need all of you.”

Denali blinked, taking her time to process Rosé’s confession. At first it was pure surprise, but once she let it sink in, it clicked that she felt the same way, that she had been falling for her all along without realizing it. “You have all of me,” she told her, cupping her face and pressing a deep kiss to her lips.

In that moment, a weight lifted from Rosé’s chest. If only for the duration of a kiss, she could pretend nothing in the world existed outside of Denali’s apartment. She could stop thinking, stop worrying. It was only them, everything else faded to black. “Are we alone?” she asked against her lips.

“Mhm,” she nodded, a slight smirk tugging at her lips, able to fill in the blanks from there. Her hands traveled down Rosé’s body, tugging off her shirt in one swift motion, her own following suit, though they took their time undressing each other, letting their fingers and lips gently caress each other’s skin.

By the time they were both completely undressed, they had gotten each other thoroughly worked up. Rosé had Denali sit up on the couch, then got on her knees in front of her, pushing her thighs apart. She moved in between them, dragging her tongue along her pussy before circling, then sucking on her clit as she eased a finger into her.

Denali’s head lolled back to rest against the back of the couch, a pleased moan escaping. “Mm, Rosie…” she exhaled, her hips pushing up when Rosé slid in a second finger. “Baby, just like that, feels so good.”

She basked in the praise, continuing her movements, occasionally switching her tongue and her fingers, but never leaving her unattended. She was focused and fervent, bringing Denali to an orgasm as quickly as she could, as if she were setting it as a challenge to herself. Once she’d won her game, she pulled back with a smile, gazing up at her. “God, you’re beautiful.”

“And you’re sappy,” she teased affectionately, leaning down to kiss her. “Come on,” she got up and pulled Rosé to her feet, “we can cuddle until I gotta get ready for my shift.”

------

Nicky watched Jan with a concerned expression. She wished she knew what to do, how to talk to her and help her. Ever since the incident at the club, she had been quiet, withdrawn, two words she would never think to associate with the bubbly woman she loved so dearly. It killed her to see her girlfriend hurting, enough for her to put her aversion to emotional conversations aside as she sat beside her on the couch, gently taking her hand. “Please tell me what’s wrong. You haven’t been the same since what happened with Lemon and I’m worried about you.”

Jan chewed on her lip, her gaze downcast. Logically, she knew she couldn’t avoid this conversation forever, but it didn’t make it any easier. “Lemon is like a sister to me and I’m worried about her. I know what alcoholism looks like… and I know what it can do to someone, it’s not pretty.”

She furrowed her brows, shifting closer to the younger woman. “What do you mean?”

“Well, um…” she swallowed thickly, “my dad’s five years sober now, but it hit a nasty low before it got better. I-I don’t know what that low would be for Lemon, I’m afraid she’s hit it, but I’m even more afraid she hasn’t.”

Nicky nodded as she listened. She had suspected Lemon might have developed a bit of a drinking habit, but not the severity, and certainly not the effect it would have on Jan. “I am so sorry about your father, and about Lemon. Is there anything we can do?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “My dad went to rehab while I was away at college, but I imagine my mom laid down some ultimatums, but I don’t know if Lemon thinks she has anything left to lose.”

“There has to be some way, and I'm going to help you find it,” she promised.

------

“Thank you all for meeting me here,” Juice said as she looked around the two pushed-together tables in the diner. “For those of you who don’t know, my name is Julia - Juice - and Lemon moved in with me about four days ago.”

“What happened?” Rosé immediately asked. “Is she okay?”

The blonde hesitated and looked down at the table. “Technically yes, she’s nursing a hangover at home right now but otherwise fine, unless she’s started day drinking. But there’s a bigger issue, and I’m sure you guys have started to suspect as much. What I’m trying to say is she’s developing an alcohol problem, and if we don’t do something about it now, it could get much worse.”

Everyone else had similar expressions - sadness, concern, anxiety. But none of them were surprised. “What do we do, then?” Rosé asked, breaking a tense moment of silence.

“Listen, I’m not claiming to be an expert. I’m twenty-two, sober for eight months now, so I can relate to how she’s feeling. What she’s going to need is everyone to rally around her, because it won’t be easy to convince her to get help.”

“So can we stage an intervention?” Jaida asked. “Do you have someone we can talk to?”

Juice nodded. “I can talk to my sponsor and have her put us in touch with someone who can get her into a detox, put the whole thing together. It goes so far beyond just telling her to stop drinking, especially in a club environment.”

“Speaking of the club environment,” Gigi chimed in, “we have to address the elephant in the room. What are we gonna do about the Priyanka situation? She told Crystal she’s taking a day job until things cool off, but if Lemon gets help… maybe that’ll expedite the process.”

Jackie sighed, but agreed. “I can open auditions to take on another dancer temporarily, I don’t know how long she’s gonna need, but assuming she chooses to get help, I want her to know she has a place to come back to.” She was quiet for a moment, then added, “I’m going to reach out to Priyanka too, I know she hasn’t been answering most of our calls or texts, but I think I might be able to get through to her.”

“My god, we’ve been so caught up with Lemon, we’ve barely kept up with Pri. Are we bad friends?” Jan asked, feeling a mix of guilt and sadness.

Juice shook her head. “No, of course not. Everyone here is doing their best. You guys reach out to Priyanka and figure out a way to get Lemon to the intervention when the time comes, I’ll do what I can on my part.” From there, they all just had to hope for the best.

------

Jackie took a deep breath, making sure she was calm and collected before knocking on the door. When a woman with black hair and tattoos opened the door, she greeted her politely. “Hi, you must be Scarlett. Um, can you tell Priyanka that Jackie’s here to see her?”

Scarlett nodded, disappearing back into her apartment. There was a solid few minutes of waiting, but Priyanka eventually came to the door. “Hey,” she greeted meekly and led Jackie inside.

Jackie sat at the edge of the bed in the guest room Priyanka had been staying in. “How have you been? You know we’re all worried about you.”

Priyanka’s gaze never left the floor. She picked pieces of lint off of her shorts as she sat down as well, swinging her legs aimlessly. How could she even begin to tackle that question when everything she had ever known had changed overnight? How can anyone process that sort of thing? “Scarlett convinced me to try therapy. I’ve had a couple sessions so far… It helped, I think, but it’s just scratching the surface, you know?”

She listened attentively, nodding along. “I’m proud of you for that. How did your family react when you and Mark broke up?”

“It’s funny, as angry as he was, he didn’t out me. He said it’s clear I have my own problems to work through. My mom was furious that the wedding was called off, so I threw in the ‘I like girls’ news because, well, it couldn’t get any worse,” she sighed. “I don’t think it’s fully hit her yet. She asked me if it was an excuse to get out of the wedding. I haven’t heard back since I told her it was the truth, and I haven’t heard from my dad at all.” She laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I couldn’t even say that I’m gay. It’s too much, I can’t just be gay,” she sat back up and grabbed a tissue, quickly dabbing the corners of her eyes. “How do you get past it, Jackie? How do you stop being afraid of yourself?”

Jackie pressed her lips together as she tried to articulate an answer. “There’s no easy solution, but I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now. I don’t think I was ever ready to be gay, one day I just came to terms with the fact that I was miserable trying to avoid my own truth and that the only way I was ever going to be happy was by loving even the scariest parts of myself.”

Priyanka went quiet again, crumpling the tissue in her hand and staring at it as if the answers were there. “So you don’t think I’ll be able to be fully happy until I embrace being gay?”

“That’s for you to decide. But think of it this way; when you think about your future, best case scenario, what is it in your life that’s making you happy?”

The answer for that wasn’t in her hand, it was in her heart. It made its way into her throat, choking her from the inside and making her pulse race. After everything, it nearly made her angry that it felt inevitable. “Lemon.”

------

“Juice just texted me that they’re on the way,” Rosé read off her phone, her free hand squeezing Denali’s tight, her leg bouncing anxiously.

The woman they’d brought in to help Lemon, Widow, nodded calmly. “Remember, at the end of the day we are here to help her. We’re not punishing or lecturing her, but we have to be firm.”

After another review of the plan, they heard the door open and looked up to see the two girls walk in, Lemon’s expression immediately becoming confused as she looked around. “Are you guys fucking intervention-ing me?” she asked as she took the empty seat to the right of Rosé.

“Lemon, your friends and family are here because they care about you and are worried about your health,” Widow explained. “Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘this bitch wants to send me to some random rehab until I come back sober for good’, but this isn’t like that. We get that you’re twenty-one, fresh out of college, no history of addiction.”

“So why am I here?” Lemon interjected.

Rosé arched her brow. “Well, for starters, you haven’t been sober a full twenty-four hours in nearly three weeks, you’ve been acting completely unhinged every time you get trashed. You’re actively trying to alienate yourself from everyone who cares about you, you-” She stopped short when Denali squeezed her hand, her cue to reel it in. “You’re going down a dangerous path and we don’t want you to get hurt.”

“This isn’t one of those ninety-day programs either,” Jackie chimed in. “It’s only three weeks, and the first five days are just for detoxing. We’re not saying you have to be sober for good, this isn’t AA, it’s a program that’s going to give you the support and help you need to still enjoy things in moderation instead of relying on alcohol as a coping mechanism.”

Lemon nodded and listened as the rest of the group said their pieces to try to convince her to go. And she took it in, but she was also looking around and at the door. After a while, it became clear that she was waiting for - hoping for - another person.

“Priyanka wanted to come,” Jackie told her. “But we weren’t sure how you would react and decided it would be better if she waited at least until after you detox to contact you. You have to know, though, she really does care about you.”

She sunk further into her chair, not angry, but embarrassed. It shouldn’t have had to come to this, she knew that, knew better. And she hated that everything they said was right, that she did need help. “Fine,” she mumbled, “I’ll go.”

There was a collective sigh of relief as the tension dissipated throughout the room. “Rosé and Juice will go back with you to your apartment so you can pack, we’re going to get you checked in tonight,” Widow explained. “The facility is in Westchester, you won’t be more than an hour away and visitation is every Saturday.”

Rosé looked at her younger cousin and could tell she was doing her best to cover her fear and anxiety. She wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tightly. “You’re going to be okay, baby,” she promised, “they’re gonna take good care of you, and you’re gonna be better than ever once you’re done.”

Lemon nodded quietly, wiping her eyes. “I just wanna get this over with,” she mumbled, still unwilling to allow herself to be vulnerable in front of everyone, though the group anticipated that from her and let it be. All any of them could do now was trust the process.

#rosnali #lemyanka #sportsdoll #rpdr rpf

[lemonjoonah]

In Need of Orders (M)

Pairings: Seokjin x Reader Word Count: 15K Rating: M Genre: Kingsman AU, action, drama, romance, smut, comedy, rivals to lovers  Warnings: violence, swearing, public foreplay, slight dom/sub dynamics which interchange (Seokjin is a bratty switch), discussion of safeword, light bondage, masturbation, voyeurism, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, small amount of cum eating, sexism in the workplace, referenced death of minor character, Seokjin and reader are bad at feelings.

Summary: After a disastrous mission, which lead to the destruction of your prized invention and the compromise of his cover, Seokjin is confined to your base, and placed under your command. Now that he’s stuck with little to do, he uses his time to investigate a past you simply want to forget.

A/N: AU based off the Kingsman Series, originally written by Mark Miller. There’s a mix of tech origins, the com-glasses, and poison-pen, were from the movie and the rest of the inventions are my own creation. Members will occasionally be referred to by their titles but I try and use their actual name as much as possible, here’s a list of members/characters and their corresponding titles: Reader - Merlin | Seokjin - Galahad |  Yoongi - Percival | Hoseok - Lancelot | Namjoon - (current) Arthur |

....

“No, no, no. NO! Seokjin, what did you do to my beautiful baby?!” You circle around what was once your wondrous invention. Your masterpiece of a vehicle that had taken years to get just right. When Yoongi dropped in a couple hours ago and told you to expect an unpleasant delivery you never could have imagined this. Unpleasant doesn’t begin to cover the damage done, this is an act of desecration. 

“Merlin, titles please! Without manners we are nothing,” Seokjin chides you, paraphrasing the principal motto as if it will save him from your wrath. You’ve reached your limit with him; there's no benefit you can see in maintaining pleasantries. 

“You will get my manners when you deserve them,” you growl back. “Now why did you sink my prized creation?”

“The cloaking device was faulty.” He shrugs off the loss like it’s nothing, no harm to him and therefore no foul.

“I find that hard to believe.” You’ve run this car through every test, checked every parameter, you would never have let it leave this workshop if it posed a danger to exposing agents.

“It was! I was conducting surveillance on a target when they became aware of my presence. They retaliated, so I needed a quick escape. I was on the overpass near the river, I knew there was a small oxygen tank in the glove compartment for emergencies-”

“So driving it off a bridge seemed like the best option?” You never thought you’d regret seeing the day you installed that safety feature, one that you intended for use in case of a gas or chemical assault, but here it is. “Tell me,” You look from your precious machine back to the monster who destroyed it, “What exactly were you doing when you noticed the glitch?”

“Just driving, maybe going around eighty. Does it really matter?” He sighs. “They saw me coming so I had to take cover or they would have shot me.” 

“Oh no, it works perfectly fine.” Your voice starts to echo through the workshop as your fury bubbles over. “When the user reads the manual and understands that cloaking only works when in a stationary position. I am a scientist not an actual fucking magician Seokjin! Of course you can’t travel when cloaked. If you had at least skimmed the booklet I gave you, you would have understood that!”

The technology you created doesn’t make the car invisible, instead it projects the images behind it to make it appear that way. It can only account for and cover small changes in movement, not whole vehicles travelling. Only an idiot would think that it could compensate for such drastic shifts to the backdrop. And for some reason that moron dares to continue arguing with you.  

“Booklet? That thing was a thousand pages long! You actually expected me to read that?” He counters his voice rising to combat yours.

“Oh, I’m sorry would you like me to make an audio-book for you next time? Or better yet I could make a grade school reader complete with pictures. Maybe that’ll hold your attention!”

There’s a sudden shift in his expression, with a thick smile forming on his face. “I suppose I wouldn't say no to a recording if it was read by you.” His words ooze with flirtatious mire, intent on sucking you in. 

Seokjin’s smirks and one liners have gotten him out of trouble many times with other agents. It’s not hard to see why, the man could be considered the most attractive of all your acquaintances,  but you refuse to let this drop simply because he’s batting his eyes in your direction. You grit your teeth and continue to chew him out. “Lancelot and Percival read it, I don’t see why I can’t hold you to the same standard.” 

“Fine, fine I’ll look it over.” He huffs in surrender, but even in defeat he still carries a playfulness in his tone. “When do you think you can get it back up and running again?”

“If you think I’m going to take time out of my schedule to fix this, only for you to go destroy it again, you have some nerve.” You can barely even register the destruction let alone process how much time it’ll take to repair everything. With the dents in the body work, the flooded engine, and the electrics most certainly fried, you're looking at weeks of work just to make it drivable again. But bringing it back to its full potential? That will require months of tinkering.

“What could you possibly have to do that’s more important than this.” Seokjin is clearly trying to hold back a snicker, but when a small snort escapes him, all remaining control of your temper vanishes.

“Seokjin, so help me god if you don’t leave my line of sight in three seconds, I’ll do those men a favour and shoot you myself.”

He chuckles at your threat, “You’re not-”  

“One.” You reach for your holster and take hold of your gun.

“Serious.” The laughter in his face starts to fade. 

“Two.” You disengage the safety and take aim.

“You won’t actually shoot me.”

“Th-” 

“At ease Merlin.” Yoongi interjects, entering the room with his face buried in a file. His indifference is a true sign of how well he knows you. You were only going to relieve Seokjin of a few strands of hair, but maybe it’s better this way. The sound of gunfire would surely result in a slight loss of hearing, and Seokjin already has trouble listening. You sigh, lowering your pistol. 

“I can only guess you’ve both been discussing the...” Yoongi comments looking down at the remains of the car. “Accident.” 

“More like negligence,” You mutter, flicking a bit of mud off what was once a perfect paint job.

“Listen, I tried Percival,” Seokjin appeals to Yoongi. “We’ve been looking for this guy for months. I had him in my grasp,  I couldn’t risk losing him.”

“I know Galahad,” Yoongi rubs his brow as his gaze returns to the document in front of him “but there’s concern that you’ve been compromised, after reading your report there are worries that you might be identified and expose the operation. You’re on lock down for the remainder of the mission.”

“No! I’m so close to bringing him in. Just let me assist,” Seokjin pleads. You would probably feel bad for him if he hadn’t just gone and destroyed your life's work.

“The rest of the order doesn’t seem to agree. In fact they’ve called your work on this case,” Yoongi flips to another page of the file, “Reckless, irresponsible, and fails to even remotely represent their request for a covert operation...” He turns the file around to push it in Seokjin’s face. “And they’ve written those last two words in all caps, see?” 

You chuckle quietly, covering it with a cough but Yoongi doesn’t look convinced. His gaze shifts to you as he hands down the rest of the directive. “Due to these recent events, Galahad is to remain here for the duration of the operation. Under your orders.”

“Wait, what?! Why are they punishing me too?”

“It’s not meant to be a punishment Merlin.”

“The fuck it isn’t. Why can’t Lancelot look after him? It was his idea to allow him on the mission.” You admire Hoseok greatly, but in your opinion it was a bad decision to add Seokjin to the roster for this operation. 

“If Lancelot or I are seen with him then our cover will be blown too.” Yoongi reasons, “You’re the only one who operates completely behind the scenes.”

“But why do I have to be put under command of another agent?” Seokjin interjects.

“Because, you are clearly in need of orders until you can get your rash instincts under control. Just be grateful it’s not a complete dismissal.” Yoongi starts to step away with the matter settled.

There goes your peace and quiet. Unless... you call out to Yoongi with one last shred of hope. “Permission to put him under a gag order for every possible topic of conversation?”

“Denied, but nice try Merlin.” Yoongi smirks as he enters the elevator which will bring him back above ground.

Yep, you’re truly going to be living your own personal hell in such tight quarters. A small work den and communications relay located beneath a PC bang in the heart of Seoul. The base was never intended to host more than one for a long term stay. It’s purpose is for agents to stock up, gather their orders sent from headquarters, and then leave. The only person who actually stays on site is you. “Well then, the bedroom’s mine but you can take the sofa. Don’t touch what’s mine without my consent and we shouldn’t have a problem. Is that clear?” You lay down the rules quickly not wanting to prolong any further conversation with your new resident.

“Yes Ma’am.” Seokjin answers looking truly defeated for once.    

“If you’ll excuse me I have work to do.”You brush past him towards your computer, needing to assess what components you’ll need to order first for repairs.

“Wait, what am I supposed to do?” 

“You’re a big boy, I’m sure you can figure something out.” You respond keeping your eyes focused on the screen.

“Could you show me how to fix it?” His unusually quiet request manages to break your concentration.

“Fix what, the car?” You glance back at him with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out his angle. “Why would I do that?”

“Well for starters I probably can’t fuck it up any more than it is.” He laughs but your lack of reaction kills his joke rather quickly. “It would cut down your workload. Give me a better appreciation for what you do. You would get to order me around. And who knows, you might even enjoy my company.”

He’s right, you could use the extra pair of hands, and he might learn something. “Fine, you can start by reading this.” You fling the tome of a manual at his chest, causing him to grunt from the impact. “Report to me when you're done.”  

...

“How can you even call that a couch? I’ve seen footrests bigger than that disappointment.” Seokjin comments as he enters the workshop. You slide out from under your car to find his hands tending to the muscles at the back of his neck, and heavy bags resting under his eyes. It's the first time you’ve seen him exist at a fraction less than perfection in his appearance, a gratifying perk in this unfavourable situation.  

“It’s all that would fit.” You grab a towel laying on the floor next to you cleaning the dark grease of the car off your skin. Usually you wouldn’t bother wiping it off just yet, but having Seokjin in your presence has made you oddly self-conscious. “You might have noticed space is limited here.”

“Then who’s idiotic idea was is to make a base in this shoe box of a hole?” He grills you, probably intending to roast the architect of such a small site. 

“Mine actually. After the data breach a year and a half ago we needed something more secure. There’s so much information streaming to and from this location that it makes it difficult for anyone to find our dealings. It’s the perfect spot.”

“Perfect if you’re a mouse.” Seokjin takes a seat in your straight-backed desk chair. Groaning as his fingers continue to knead, moving down to his wide shoulders.

“Are you implying I’m some kind of rodent?” You glare up at him, ready to defend yourself against the slight.

“You should take it as a complement, mice are cute.” He gives you one of his famed smiles, the type where you can’t tell if he’s sincere or mocking.

“Why are you down here Seokjin?” You ask preparing to wheel back down beneath the undercarriage of your car. “I can’t imagine you’ve finished reading the manual already.”

“I did actually. This is me reporting for duty.” He throws the book down on to the floor next to you, marked and dog-eared. “Not a whole lot else I can do while on lock down.” 

“Is someone upset that Lancelot and Percival get to have all the fun? Maybe it’ll teach you to obey orders better, rather than getting stuck here with me.”

“I can follow them just fine... when they don’t conflict with the completion of my mission.”

“Not getting spotted was part of your mission Seokjin.” Your response is dry as you state the obvious.

“Yes, but so is recovering the data from that breach, before he can unload it on someone else.”

“You don’t know that he has it. That’s why you had to observe him.”

“Listen to me, Hwang’s a fence, one whose been trying his best to stay off our grid, of course he has it. Once we find him we can track everything back to his source.” Seokjin’s confidence is admirable. You can’t deny that you would like to catch the one responsible for unleashing one hell of a computer virus that caused you and many others weeks of havoc and restless nights. The worst part is you don’t even know what they were able to get a hold of, the sooner Yoongi and Hoseok can track this man down the better.

“You still should have exerted more caution, you're not the only one on this team Seokjin, people can get hurt if you're too brash.” You’re surprised to find Seokjin nodding with his head hung low. Since when does he ever agree with you on something?  “Now that you’re done with the manual, I do have work to assign that I doubt even you can mess up. Every single electrical circuit and wire needs to be removed, it’s unlikely that any have survived the flooding so it would be safer just to take them all out. I’m going to see if I can save the engine.”

Seokjin gives you a cheeky two finger salute before he sets to work behind the dash.

Thirty minutes later he’s already back at it with questions. “Do you have any speakers set up for music?”

“No, we could have used the car radio if you hadn’t submerged it, but here we are.” You usually work in silence anyway, but getting to deliver another stab of guilt is better than admitting your regular tendencies. 

“Ah no problem, I can fix that.” At first you wonder if he intends to repair the radio, but when he proceeds to hum loudly, you realize that’s not the case. Instead he treats you to a selection of unrecognizable songs which you don’t bother to ask the title of.

You let it go for as long as you can, but thirty minutes later when you move from under the car to beneath the hood needing to drain the cylinders next, you finally raise the white flag in pursuit of silence. “Seokjin, please just stop okay?”

His chuckle taunts you, “That’s what you get for pulling a gun on me yesterday.”

“If you’re not careful I’ll do it again.” Your tone turns salty once you realize that is was his intent to torture your ears.

“Can’t believe you lasted that long, I thought for sure you were going to crack after five minutes of my melodies.”

“That’s what that was? I thought you jammed your thumb and were screaming out in pain the whole time.”

“Ha ha,” He retorts. You're almost upset when he goes quiet with nothing substantial to follow up your jab, but then he opens his mouth again. “How can you work when it’s so quiet?”

“Helps me focus when there’s no distractions.” You answer hoping that he’ll take the hint and remain silent.

“But doesn’t it get lonely?”

You slow your pace as you loosen the bolts on the gasket cover, choosing your words carefully as you make an attempt to side step that minefield of a query. “I work better when I’m by myself.”

“That wasn’t my question.” Seokjin catches on to your evasion proceeding to look around the hood of the car trying to meet your eyes.

“We all make sacrifices Seokjin. This is mine.”

“If you spoke to Arthur-”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You try to cut him off quickly not wanting to get him involved in your circumstances, but he continues.

“I’m sure he would listen.”

“Drop the subject Seokjin, that’s an order.” You take a deep breath trying not to lose more of your composure again. “I chose to work in this place for several reasons. I don’t need to explain every one of them to you.”

Seokjin is surprisingly quiet for the rest of the day. It’s doubtful that you scared him off with your temper, he’s too confident for that. It’s more likely that he’s frustrated with you’re bickering. You hang back a bit more only giving direction when absolutely necessary. If you have to live with him you might as well attempt to make it bearable for the both of you.

That night you treat him to ramen from the business upstairs, they don’t usually do take-out but they make an exception for you. He sits across from you in a desk chair slurping his noodles while his eyes bore into you. “What, do I have something on my face?” You ask, starting to feel uncomfortable under his gaze.

Seokjin takes another slurp of his dish before he explains himself. “No, I’m just trying to figure you out.” 

“Please don’t.” You plead, not wanting to broach the same subject from earlier.

“You’re passionate about your work. You’re good at what you do. Your superiors trust you.” You groan with exasperation, nevertheless he persists. “You're lonely here. The order could put you anywhere and you would most likely excel, and yet you bury yourself here, in this hovel.”

“It’s not a hovel...” You mutter, but you’ve run out of energy to argue and your appetite has now vanished. Rising from your seat you bid him good night. “I’m going to bed. Clean up this mess when you're done, and try not to throw your neck out cramming yourself onto my couch again.” 

“Yes Ma’am.” He gives a muffled reply with noodles hanging from his mouth, and another fake salute.

You shake your head as you close your bedroom door behind you.

...

 “You know,” Seokjin bursts into your room early the next morning, startling you awake. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen test scores as high as these. Are you sure you’re not a magician Merlin, because these results seem too good to be true. ” 

You bolt upright in terror, “What are you looking at?”

“The start of your journey with the Kingsman.” He wanders around to sit at the foot of your bed as you drag the covers up to your chest. “I figured if there was an answer I would find it here, but I’ve never seen such an impressive resume. The last Arthur had you pegged from the beginning as the successor to your predecessor, he even recorded that his candidate didn’t stand a chance against you. You should be proud of this...” He leans to you reading the expressions on your face. “But you’re not. You’re scared. Why is that?”

“Stay out of my files Kim Seokjin.”

“Is that an order?” He asks his face still only a couple inches from yours when it pulls into smirk, looking pleased that he’s caught you off guard.

“Yes.”

“If I recall,” He closes the document in his hands, but his analysis continues, “You were moved here just shortly after Namjoon took over the position of Arthur. You were living the life before, testing and training new recruits, doling out orders and information. But then you fell into this pit. What did you do to piss him off?” 

    “Nothing, ju-just stop asking, okay? I don’t need your help, so stop trying to save me!” Your voice cracks as it reaches the point of yelling but he doesn’t back away. “Staying here alone, that was my choice. So don’t you dare try to take my one salvation away from me.” 

“I’m not trying to take it away. I just want to understand it.” He answers his tone controlled and calm while holding your gaze firmly in his. When you look away he finally gets up leaving you with your files on your dresser. 

...

A week passes and Seokjin continues to try and figure out why you chose to work in your closed off environment. Throwing out random and bizarre questions on what you might have done to Namjoon to get yourself stationed here.

“Did you expose his guilty pleasure for stuffed animals?” He asks as he helps you unbolt and remove seats, making room for the new chairs and bench which just arrived. 

“Does he have a guilty pleasure for such a thing?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you.” Seokjin states with a snicker.

“No.” 

“Did you lose his glasses?’’ Seokjin inquires next as he pulls the seat from the driver side all on his own. You can’t help but notice the muscles straining through the back of his shirt as he lifts the heavy chair from its place. When he turns back around for the next you berate your pitiful self-control. Yes he’s attractive, but he’s also the current thorn in your side. God must be a sadist for creating this enticing man, with such a sharp tongue and a plaguing desire to mock you. 

“He does that just fine himself, he doesn’t need me to do it for him.” In fact, you have two pairs on backup for Namjoon at all times, just in case such a need should arise. 

“Did you sneak into his house and switch the sugar to salt in his tea set?”

“That’s just cruel,” You chuckle at the idea, making a mental note to check your own sugar before your next cup of coffee. “But no I didn’t.” 

“Well that’s it then, I’m out of ideas for today.” He heaves the passenger chair next to the other with an exhausted breath. A bead of sweat drips down his brow as he collapses on the new back bench waiting to be installed. 

“Really? I’m surprised. You haven’t asked the obvious question.” You lay the statement as bait hoping he’ll take hold so you can reel him in. To your delight, he does. 

“Oh and what’s that?” His eyes light up, with the chance that you might actually tell him something informative.

“Did I destroy his favourite vehicle? I mean, that’s why you’re stuck here isn’t it?” Seokjin glares at you in frustration, his gloom making you giggle. “But the answer to that too is no, I didn’t. I’m not a scoundrel.”

“Is that what I am to you now,” He presents a gleeful smile with a raised brow. “A scoundrel?”

“Why do you look so proud about that?” Your question is full of judgement, but his delight is not swayed.

“Because, scoundrels are sexy.” He tilts his head and bites his lip with a nod as if to make a point.

You let out an obnoxious laugh. “Maybe to some. I fail to see the appeal.”

“Then what do you consider sexy?”

“Someone who’s attentive, and dutiful. You know, an adult.” You attempt to describe the very traits he appears to lack to make your point. Though Seokjin’s looks might draw you in, you are in need of something more.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Where’s the fun in that?”

“It’s not always about the fun, I just like someone who I can depend on.” 

Seokjin’s about to respond, his mouth open with a solemn stare in his eyes when the elevator chimes. It’s doors open for you to find a haggard Hoseok with two black empty bags. You greet him with surprise, having completely lost track of time, he had mentioned that he would be stopping by to pick up supplies. 

You hurry away to unlock and ready the stock. While Seokjin rushes in, barely even letting Hoseok off the lift, launching into an interrogation about the mission and any progress they’ve made. There’s only a few short words exchanged before the man left in your charge storms away slamming the door behind him as he exits the workshop to your common room.

“Lancelot?” You call out to Hoseok with hesitation, noticing that he’s still standing in place where Seokjin left him. Stepping in you help to take and load one of his duffles with surveillance equipment he requested. After Seokjin’s barrage he looks like he might rupture if you’re not careful.  

“Please no formalities,” He sighs in exhaustion, while he too starts to pack up what he needs. “I would prefer not to be an agent right now, even if it’s just for five minutes.”

“That bad?” You wince for Hoseok’s sake, he’s usually so optimistic, it’s worrisome to see him so beaten down.  

“We know Hwang’s back in Seoul, but any time we get a whiff of a more detailed location he vanishes. Yoongi and I have brought in more agents. We’re stationed in the south end of the city now, trying to keep an ear to the ground.” He zips up his case and then turns the conversation to you. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine I guess, but Seokjin’s been looking into my assignment here. He keeps trying to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong.” Hoseok is one of only a few who know why you chose such an assignment, and you would like to keep it that way.

“Maybe you should give it a smack then. Or better yet put him on a leash.” Hoseok finally breaks into a smile as he pats you on the back. 

“He’s not a dog Hoseok.”

“Really?” Hoseok raises his eyebrows as if it’s news to him. “Cause he looks at you with those puppy eyes all the time. I’m surprised you don’t see it.” 

 “I don’t need someone who doesn’t listen to me Hoseok.”

“Okay yes, that accident with the car was a major misstep on his part...”

“And the constant prodding into my past?” You groan, you were hoping Hoseok would have your back immediately. Why does he have to take the role of impartial referee when you need his bias the most?

“He probably thinks you’ve been wronged, and that you deserve better. Is it not natural to what's best for those we care about?”

You tilt your head starting to question your fellow agent’s sanity. “I doubt that’s the case Hoseok, he just likes to be nosey.”

“Fine, have it your way, live in denial. I’m sure he’ll be out of your hair soon anyway. But if I were you I would try and explain the situation. He might not be living here but you’ll still have to work closely with him in the future.” 

“You’re saying I should tell him?” You challenge his suggestion, he must be overworked since he’s definitely not thinking clearly. 

“I know it won’t be easy, but if he knows what’s really bothering you, he might try to be more tolerable.” He lugs the cases off the table crossing the straps over his chest.

“Either that or he’ll use it as ammo to really gun me down.” You curl your lip at the thought pacing behind Hoseok as he moves towards the elevator to head back above ground. 

Before the door closes between you he holds it open to give you the support you wanted along with a sigh. “I really don’t think that’ll be the case. But if he does... I’ll be your witness when you tell Arthur you shot him in self-defence.”

“Deal.” 

...

You find Seokjin on the couch with a pile of files and a coffee on the small table, his brow furrowed and his mouth pulled tight as he scans through each one at a rapid pace. 

“I take it you weren’t happy with his update?” You call out as you enter the room advancing towards him.

“No, I wasn’t. They had to pull in lower level field agents because I can’t be out there to help them. We probably would have caught Hwang by now if I was still working on the case.”

“Seokjin, I have every camera in the city looking for him, there’s not much else we can do from here. And your not going out there to track-”

“I know I’m not Merlin. I just want this to be over so I can get my shot at redemption.”

You nod looking down at the files in front of him.“What are those?” 

He lets out a panicked laugh as he tries to scrounge them together. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“Seokjin.” You draw out his name with intent to reprimand, leading him to respond with a nervous grin. He shifts his hands away giving you a better view of what he’s up to. 

“Since you said I couldn’t look through your files I thought I would take a general overview of those you’ve trained or worked with.”

You shake your head, tired of this never ending battle between the two of you. “You’re not going to stop are you?”

“Nope.” He takes a sip from his mug as he looks back down to the information he’s gathered. You scan through the names and pull out the file that haunts you to this day. Dropping it in front of Seokjin before taking a seat in the armchair across from him. He reads the name off the tab. “James Paxton the third, he sounds like a pompous prick.”

“Oh I can confirm he was, and definitely one of the most hard-headed recruits I’ve ever tested, but we shouldn’t speak ill of the dead,” You mutter as Seokjin opens his file to find the word deceased stamped in bold red letters. He stares up at you with his mouth agape, you can see the wheels turning in his head, trying to figure out how this fits into your narrative. 

“Why didn’t I hear about this?”

“It wasn’t really broadcasted through the regular channels, if you weren’t at the main headquarters you didn’t know about it. It happened just over a year ago.”

“I would have been in Lhasa...” Seokjin mutters.

You nod, not surprised that information flew under his radar. “I didn’t realize it at the time, but the last Arthur, he saw me as a bar for people to cross. He thought if recruits could take orders from a ‘bossy woman’ they could take orders from anyone. James Paxton didn’t pass that test, and he paid for it with his life.”

Thankfully for once, Seokjin doesn’t have a comment, instead he sits there, waiting for you to continue.

“Paxton thought me pushy, and overbearing, told me so to my face, several times in fact. I should have had him kicked out, but I was determined to prove him wrong. There was a mission to recover the stolen data a couple months after the breach. There was a lead, before we learned of Hwang.  We thought we had the location of where the data had been transferred to. I was supposed to go on the mission, but at the last minute Arthur told me to direct the team from off site.” 

Your hands start to shake as the story continues. A mixture of both anger and fear coursing through you. You shift to hide them beneath you, gripping your legs to keep your fingers steady, but they fail to escape Seokjin’s notice.

His eyes are downcast in shame. “You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to Merlin. I’m-”

“You wanted to hear this Seokjin. I told you to leave it alone, I told you I didn’t want to talk about it.” You take a deep breath trying to rein in your anger, “Either you let me finish or never question me about my situation again.” He shuts his mouth instantly letting you continue. “It didn’t take me long to realize the lead was a trap once they got on site. I ordered a retreat, everyone else followed except for Paxton”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Seokjin interjects sitting on the edge of his seat. 

“That doesn't mean I can’t be upset by it! Instead of trying to curb the discrimination the previous Arthur used it, and I didn’t even understand what he was doing until I lost someone. I found out that he enforced the idea among the recruits, that I was an overly authoritative woman, one who fails to take proper risks. Forget the fact that I am highly qualified, that I have more experience and knowledge of many of the situations than the other leaders, my lack of dick disqualified me from being taken seriously.” Seokjin falls silent again. He must realize that he too has failed to take you seriously in the past, then again, he’s that way with everyone else too. 

“When Namjoon became the new Arthur shortly after, I was able to address my grievances. He was ashamed of his predecessor and wanted to do right by me, so I requested this place as a base. I wanted somewhere I could work on my own for the most part and not have to worry about people thinking me conceited or bossy. I needed a break from giving out orders.”

You finally finish to find Seokjin with a narrowed brow and clenched jaw. His tone matching the anger in his stance, “You’ve been here a year-”

“I know.”

“You’re telling me you’ve been punishing yourself for a year?” He’s question is poised with what looks to be genuine frustration, “Over two assholes who couldn’t understand how valuable you are?”

“It’s not a punishment, it’s a safety net.” You explain.

“It’s a cell!” He gestures around him. “You’re basically living in solitary.” You shift awkwardly not knowing what to say, and definitely not expecting this reaction. “Come on, we’re going out.” He orders, getting up from his seat and pulling you out of yours. “There’s a bar I know close by. I’m taking you out for a drink.”

“You think it wise for you to leave?” You question him, not knowing how else to diffuse the situation, not when your focus is drawn to his grip which wraps your shoulders. 

“It’s only a couple blocks away. If we see anything suspicious I promise we’ll head straight back. It’s your call, but I think you could use a night out.” He pushes you in the direction of your bedroom. “Go change into something that doesn’t have oil stains all over it.” 

You should probably put your foot down, there’s no saying what could happen. But seeing Seokjin act like this... maybe Hoseok was right, he actually cares. The problem is now that you can see this side of him you don’t want to lose hold of it just yet. “Fine, but if anything at all is amiss-”

“We’ll hightail it out of there, and barricade ourselves in here for the long haul.” He rattles off the promises. “Now go get ready.” 

...

Seokjin maintains the persona of a caring companion as he drags you to his favourite bar in the city. “It’s quiet and the owner, Choi, is an old friend of Percival’s, he knows not to ask too many questions. There’s almost always at least one or two of us from the order or field agents hanging out there.”

He holds the door open for you to enter and you're greeted to the sight of a worn down ale house. A robust and stained wooden bar takes the focal point of the room, and there’s not a single other patron in sight. You can’t help but regret being forced to change out of your usual attire. You didn’t want to look out of place, but with no one here to take notice, your black dress it’s an unnecessary and uncomfortable gambit. Seokjin on the other hand looks very pleased to be back in his usual attire, a  three piece suit that’s been confined to the closet while he’s with you in the workshop.   

“Like I said, it’s quiet.” He chuckles while he helps you take off your coat.

From out back steps the barman to greet you. He’s an unexpected yet welcome gem of a sight among the rubble, a handsome face with a wide smile which he presents to you. You might have to stop by here again just to take in this view, maybe study some of the tattoos he has scattered across his arms. 

“Choi not in tonight?” Seokjin asks after seeing your reaction to the man behind the counter. He must not be the usual staff, it’s a shame really, but it’s funny to see Seokjin look so displeased. Realizing that for once he might not be the most attractive person in the room.

“Oh you know him?” Your host inquires with surprise, “No he wasn’t feeling too good, probably will end up spending the night by a toilet from the looks of him. I offered to take over tonight so he could get some rest.”

“That was nice of you.” You extend the man a warm smile.

“I like to think so.” He responds while beaming back at you. Seokjin hastily gives both your orders, allowing the bartender to leave you with a lingering stare as he walks back to grab your drinks. Maybe your efforts with the dress weren’t such a waste.

Seokjin glares at the man, mumbling a few choice words from which you manage to pull the word, ‘Flirt’. 

“He was just being nice.”

“My god you can’t read people when it comes to the way they look at you. You’ve clearly caught his attention...” Seokjin drops unexpectedly.

“I can read people just fine.” You bite back in confidence. 

“Really?” He challenges you, leaning forward with a whisper, “Then I suggest you look a bit closer.”

   The bartender hammers Seokjin’s drink down in front of him while he slides yours along gently, giving you a chance to inspect a stunning work of art on his hand, a flock of birds flying in formation following the trail between his thumb and index. He catches your stare and while you might be embarrassed at your lingering eyes he teases the skin of his lip between his teeth. “I’ll let you get back to your date.” He gives you one last flash of a grin as he backs away into what must be a stock room.

“It’s not a... date.” You start to explain but it’s reduced to a sigh once the man leaves your sight.

Seokjin presses a napkin to your mouth prompting you to look back at him in utter confusion. “Sorry, thought I spotted some drool,” He dabs the corner of your lips. “Just there.”

You steal the napkin from his hand and toss it on the bar. “Thank you for your concern.” You take a long draft of your drink refusing to look at your fellow agent. 

“Someone must be thirsty.” He snickers, not bothering to keep his laughter hidden.

“What can I say, the refreshments at the base have been far from gratifying.” Your quip might be implied but it hits its mark with flawless execution.

“Hey!” The volume of Seokjin’s voice rises to a new level to aid in his defence. “I’ll have you know I’ve been called an acquired taste.” 

“You’ll have to forgive my pallet for not meeting your standards then. I’m in need of something that goes down a bit easier.”

You take your victory in the form of Seokjin’s reddening ears and sputter from his lips. “After that confession, I’m almost sorry to be standing between you and that tall drink. Almost.” He reiterates with a wink.

“It’s probably for the best.” You sigh, finally dropping the banter. “He might be interested now, but I bet that would change pretty quickly if he got to know me.” 

“I doubt that.” He whispers right before he takes a sip. You can’t be entirely sure that he intended you to hear his comment.

“Oh really? You’ve spent the past week in very close proximity with me. How would you describe me?”

“There’s definitely a mix of frustration, with a side agitation, and a need for provocation. ” You let out a heavy groan while he continues. “Now some might find those to be unlikable traits, but I’ve come to find them very endearing.”  

You snort into your drink. “That’s the best joke you’ve told yet.”

Seokjin nods carrying the weight of a small smile on his lips. “What about me? I’d be curious to hear how you read my personality.”

“Are you sure about that?’

He nods, “Hit me with your best shot... if you can.”

He might think you unable to read people, but you can’t wait to prove him wrong. Your words spill faster than you intend, creating an improvisational soliloquy into his psyche.“You deflect with humor constantly, which in turn prevents anyone from getting close because they can tell what you truly feel about them. Can’t take an order without asking a question. You’re determined to a fault, but you also use that drive when you’re concerned that something’s wrong. Not letting anything rest until you’ve fixed what can be fixed.”

He holds your gaze, sitting there in silent disbelief before he comes to and lashes out, “Completely incorrect, it’s a wonder you became an agent.” He shakes his head with a scoff before finishing his drink in one sip.

“Nice deflection,” you counter. “I rest my case.”

He narrows his eyes and gives no response other than to call for another round. 

...

After finishing the second you’re about to suggest your return to the base, but the frown on Seokjin’s face as he looks into the bottom of his glass stops you. It should be an unwritten rule that men who look as good as him aren’t allowed to pout. How are you supposed to remain in charge when he can disarm you in seconds with a simple jut of his lip? It’s the one tool in his arsenal he has yet to use, you can only hope he doesn’t realize how effective it is on you.

You’re quick to order the next batch, and half way through the third he poses a question that he must have been holding on to. “You said in your analysis that people have trouble reading me because of my humour, how do I act when I really like someone?”

“How would I know?” You raise your brow along with your drink. 

“Then how do you think I should act? You know, so it’s not misconstrued as humour.”

“Level with the person, have a serious conversation for a fraction of a second.” It feels odd to be giving him your input on such a matter. Why would he ask this of you? And why do you mentally recoil when you start to think of him using that advice on someone else?

“If that's the case, I should probably tell you...” He leans in towards you, his face just inches away. Your heart stops as his hand reaches out to cover yours. He pauses there for a moment watching your expression, “I need to,” The gaps in his speech are big enough for your mind to flee from reality, creating a scenario where he admits... “I need to go use the facilities.” A half-hearted chuckle pours of him along with the words which break you from your daydream. 

“Then go,” You snap, your tone surprising even to you. It’s not like you wanted to have a serious moment with him, right? But the pain in your chest says otherwise.

“Are you... I was just kidding around,” he stammers.

What did you expect him to say, that he thinks of you as more than just an agent, even more than a friend? Did you want him to close the gap and kiss you? Oh god, you did. You like him. You like Kim Seokjin, and right then and there you wanted him to confess the same to you.

“Yeah I got it,” you mutter back, trying to cover your internal shock. “That’s all you ever do.”

 Seokjin gets up from his seat and heads to the washroom. Leaving you at the bar to contemplate his words. 

You feel like you’ve fallen into every trap you told yourself not to. But that can’t be right, it’s not like you fell for his fake smiles or flirtation. You must be drunk, that’s the only explanation. How else could you ever think that he might actually hold even a shred of feelings for you. He feels sorry for you, that’s all, that’s why you're here with him now. And once he’s treated your wounds, once he no longer feels guilty, he can go back to flirting with you and everyone else to get whatever he wants. 

The bell over the door chimes as a large group of people enter. You immediately look away, embarrassed by your current distress, turning your head to focus instead on the photos of the owner and his patrons pinned to the walls. Dabbing the corner of your eyes with the tip of your finger. 

Despite the number of newcomers the bar still remains oddly quiet. From a group of six you would expect the volume of conversation to be a bit more boisterous. With your instincts and suspicions now aroused, you keep an eye on them in the mirror over the bar.  Darting your eyes back to their reflection every few seconds, never wanting to linger too long. You’re about to throw away your apprehension, blaming it on your current level of anxiety on Seokjin, when something inexplicable happens. 

As the man seated in the middle leans towards one of his companions for a chat, his hand rises to rub his long nose, and in what you can only describe as a rendering problem, it passes through. You try to remain calm grabbing your glasses from your purse, turning yourself slightly you manage to edge his face in the very corner of your frames. With the tap of your finger to the rim of the specs you launch an application you created but never had the need to use personally.

When you had first designed your car, Yoongi had complained that even with the locater he had difficulty finding the vehicle when he left it cloaked. It was a reasonable request that prompted you to create a function that scans for visual distortions and creates a digital replication of what lies beneath the camouflage. And now as you activate that function you find what Seokjin and the others hadn’t been able to track down for months, the face of Hwang. 

He must be wearing what you can only guess is a variation on your technology, but instead of making his face invisible it projects different facial features over some of his own. It takes all of your restraint not to let out the swear taking up residence on the tip of your tongue. Why are they here of all places? Do they know that Seokjin is here? They look as if they’re waiting for someone. A potential mark, a seller, or maybe a buyer? 

Regardless of motive if your colleague steps out of the bathroom he’ll walk right into their view. You pull your glasses off leaving them on the bar, and call out to the keep. “Would you mind watching my stuff for me?” You gesture to your coat and specs putting on a fake smile. “Don’t want to lose my seat.”

“Don’t worry.” He confirms with a soft tone along with a grin. “I’ll keep them safe.”

Gliding off the stool, avoiding the stares of the target and his men, you slip into the hall and behind the men’s room door. Thankfully Seokjin’s already at the sink by this point. You find him hunched over hands pressing down on the counter as he lets out a long sigh.   

As he combs back his hair with damp fingers he looks up. Meeting your eyes in the mirror with embarrassment and disbelief, he lets out a small self pitting laugh. “Listen if you’re here to tell me off I get it, I didn’t mean-”

“Put your glasses on. You have them right?” You join him at the sink while his pity turns to confusion.

“What-”

“Just do it.”

He fumbles to retrieve them from his jacket pocket before sliding them on. You move in as close as you can, bracing yourself on his arms so you can speak into the receiver embedded. Seokjin looks taken aback but remains still as you encroach on his space. “Call Merlin, auto-connect override authorization 2769.” That creates a connection between the two glasses without you having to be there to answer it, allowing Seokjin to see the issue at hand.

“Fuck.” He whispers right next to your ear as you remain close, getting ready to call in for backup.

“My thoughts exactly.” You mutter, unable to decide if this is a stroke of good luck or bad.  “Add secondary line, call Lancelot.”

Seokjin leans his head down so the speaker falls next to your own ear. It’s not the best connection with the audio from the bar, but at least you can hear Hoseok. “Merlin, Galahad. What- am I seeing this right?”

“Yes, Hwang’s at our location, Choi’s bar. We’re not sure of his purpose here, but he’s brought a few friends.”

“I can see that, but why are you both there?”

“Not the time. We’re in the restroom but not in an adequate state to take on so many and secure the target. How long will it take you to get here?” You try to gloss over your lack of sobriety, but Hoseok doesn’t fall for the guise of your paraphrasing.

“Not in an adequate state huh? That’s an expression for drunk I haven’t heard before. Sending a message to Percival, I can have him and the team on site in 10 minutes. Can you maintain your current position?”

“Yeah small problem with that...” Seokjin comments.

“I heard it too, maintain cover at all cost. We can’t scare them away.” Hoseok’s voice flutters, sounding almost nervous.

“Heard what?” You can barely make out Hoseok’s words, let alone the taproom.

“Someone’s coming to check the bathrooms. They’re looking for any people of interest.”

“We could try slipping out the back door,” You offer.

Only for Hoseok to throw a wrench in your suggestion. “If it’s a business dealing they might have people posted there.”

“We need a distraction then?” You ask and Seokjin returns with a nod. Just hiding in a stall won’t do either, they’ll likely wait for the occupants to come out. You have to make them uncomfortable enough to leave without looking too close. You’ll probably regret what you're about to do later, but right now your options are limited. 

You reach out and grip Seokjin’s shirt, drawing him into you so he has you pressed against the counter. He catches on quickly, putting his hands on your waist he lifts you up and onto the marble surface. “Make it look good Seokjin. Shouldn’t be hard for you to put on a show, you’ve had so much practice with me already.” His act of concern, and portrayal of affection have shown you he should do just fine when it comes to a performance of lust. 

“It wasn’t my intent to toy with you.” He growls back before snatching your mouth with his, forceful enough to ensure swollen lips and smudged lipstick. One of his hands rises to your hair pulling the elastic out of place. Allowing his fingers to weave between the strands, he delivers a slight tug to your roots while you drag your teeth across his bottom lip.

You push his suit jacket off his wide shoulders, throwing it down on the counter next to you, before forcefully opening the top of his shirt, accidentally ripping the button off his collar in the process. He pauses his assault on your mouth for a moment, investigating the damage you imposed. 

“It wasn’t my intent to destroy your shirt, but here we are,” You explain unfastening the next two buttons with a bit more care. Your fingers dip under the crisp white cotton of his shirt, raking visible lines down his chest.  “Take responsibility for your actions for once. Tell people your true intentions or you will hurt them.” 

“You want me to know my intentions? Fine.” He unzips your dress a few inches to bare your collar and shoulders before his lips target your neck. You close your eyes letting your head roll back. “I want this.” Seokjin grabs your upper thigh compelling a gasp to escape you. “I want you.” He confesses the same time the door creaks open. 

There’s not much movement from Hwang’s lackey. Your new audience doesn’t come in far, instead he freezes in place when he spots the both of you. Seokjin addresses him in a gruff manner without turning his face away from you . “It’s not a free show buddy, take your piss and leave.” The man clears his throat, turns round and closes the door in his wake, leaving you once alone with Seokjin. Though revelling in his soft bites to your neck, gaining back your composer is a more pressing matter. “I think he’s gone.”

“We can’t be too sure,” Seokjin counters your observation as he continues to nip at the column of your throat. “He might come back.” 

“Shit, I just lost visual of the bar.” Hoseok interrupts much to your embarrassment. You somehow forgot he was on the com-line during your effort to teach your fellow agent a lesson. “We’re running blind, maintain cover for now.”

“See?” The breath of Seokjin’s laughter is felt on your skin as he wins the debate.

“You really want to keep going with this?” You’re surprised, just a few minutes ago the man was making you the butt of his joke. Why the change? 

“I wouldn’t mind. I’m just sorry we couldn’t be somewhere more intimate, or private.”

“You and me both,” Hoseok deadpans.

“Lancelot, I suggest you find something else to watch while we maintain cover as directed,” Seokjin instructs. You find his mouth back on yours before he gets a response on the com. 

He’s right though the circumstances are less than ideal for a romp. The damp counter beneath you, the flickering fluorescent lights, and the out of order stall in the corner are all enough to make you cringe. No part of this is glamorous except for the man standing in front of you, which makes him all the more appealing. “We could just lock the door you know.” You offer a logical substitute plan. “I’m sure after what they’ve seen they would understand and we could stop this charade.”

“But where’s the fun in that? I’m sorry but I am too dedicated to this cover. I want to see it through.”

“Percival’s team will be dropping in two minutes.” Hoseok cuts in. 

“Yes sir,” Seokjin mumbles against your lips while he responds to Hoseok, not dwelling on the interruption. “We should probably make the act more realistic, you know gasps, moans, they might be listening.”

You highly doubt that, but if he wants to play, fine. You’ll show him what he’s missing when he casts you aside. “You first.” You respond, tugging him between your legs, causing the hem of your dress to ride back. His cock erect beneath his pants and pressing against your clothed core. He lets out a groan of relief. “So unlike you to be already standing at attention.” You tease him.

“What can I say, you bring out the best in me,” he gasps in response.

Seokjin takes your legs in his hands driving your dress even further up your thighs as he proceeds to grind against you. He tilts his head with a smile while you react. “Too far?” He whispers. 

You shake your head. If only he knew what he would find if he pulled your underwear aside. Your cunt, committing the ultimate treason against your better sensibility, is ready and willing. If he’s not careful he might get a darkened spot on his suit pants.

As one hand slides further up the inside of your thigh, the other takes your chin directing you to meet his eyes. His fingers tease the edge of your underwear making their presence known and as he waits for permission to go further. You nod back at him. His fingers slip behind the strip of fabric, separating your sopping slit from the damp material. “Looks like you’re well prepared too Merlin.”

“I guess so,” You tease, “Do remind me to give a big tip to the bartender for that.”

“I have a hard time believing that none of this belongs to me.” Seokjin murmurs back to you, but just as his knuckles graze your slick folds and clit, Yoongi announces his team’s arrival. “Another time I guess,” Seokjin whispers with a final kiss to your cheek. He helps you off the counter and pulls down your dress to a more respectable length while he takes one last stroke of your thigh.

“I take it’s safe to restore visual now?” Hoseok asks with a hint of laughter. You’re never going to hear the end of this. “Percival’s about to enter, I do suggest locking the door this time though. In case anyone does make a run for it, we’ll catch them outback. I don’t want you two engaging in this capture if you don’t have too.”  You roll your eyes over Hoseok’s word choice. “Galahad, give Merlin the glasses. I want her input on the scene.”

Seokjin hands off his glasses to you and proceeds to lock you both in.

“Where are they stationed?” You inquire trying to get a full view of the task now at hand.

“The majority including Percival are entering through in the front, and a couple men out back, there was no one there so they must not be expecting a scene. Were there any civilians on site?”

“Just the barman.”

“Okay hang tight.” Hoseok orders.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t be helping?” You ask, wanting to distract yourself from the tension between you and Seokjin.

“Nah, Percival’s got this. Besides I saw your reflection and you’re looking a little flushed Merlin, you doing okay?”

“Shut up Lancelot,” you grumble back in a muffled tone. 

“Was it the alcohol or was it Galahad?”  Luckily Seokjin was too far away to hear Hoseok's last question letting you ignore the comment as the team makes their entrance. Yoongi’s glasses give you the full view of what he sees. Hwang, much to your surprise, actually looks interested in the presence of the new arrivals. They’re obviously waiting for someone to show, but it’s clear that they have no idea who to look for.

“Don’t jump on the arrest so fast.” You direct, looking to gain any positive out of this awkward mission. The reward very much outweighing the risk. “You might be able to get some information first. Come off as a buyer, they might be trying to move the information or the tech.”

“You heard her Percival, get as much as you can before we make the catch.” Hoseok confirms your plan back to the rest of the team.

You watch barely drawing breath as he takes a seat across from the target. Hwang opens up the conversation first, “I didn’t think you would bring so many men just for a demonstration.”

“I prefer not to take any chances.” Yoongi’s response is blase, as he beckons the barman over to give his order.  

Hwang looks uncomfortable, for someone with a product to sell he’s lacking the usual confidence that you would expect to see. “Well this should provide for your needs then. You ask me to come to the thick of their territory and as you can see I’m still here.”

“You are, but how do we know they aren’t waiting to make a strike? Have you ever seen one?” Yoongi pushes, he must be taking great enjoyment out of finally being able to pull one over on the man who’s kept them searching for so long.

“I have, once, but I’ve been able to keep myself hiding for months with this.” He taps something a bud placed in his ear. It must be what’s projecting the image overlay on his face disguising his true features. “Camera’s can’t pick up my face underneath, it’s better than any mask you can buy, as requested.”

“Where did you get the tech?” 

“You-” The man pauses, his brow furrows before his expression shifts to a blank slate. He makes a subtle reach for his jacket pocket, but Yoongi is quicker on the draw. Lunging across the table he grabs the back of Hwang’s neck and smashes his head down on the table.

It’s hard to see the rest of the fighting with only Yoongi’s perspective. You catch flashes of the scene as the target’s men retaliate. There’s a flurry of pint glasses to distract as firearms are drawn. Broken shards scatter the establishment as the bartender flees away from danger towards the back exit with a phone to his ear. 

The altercation ends rather quickly, with those who are still conscious held at gunpoint by Yoongi’s men. It’s a relief to see the target secured, and the tech recovered, but you are left with disgust after having your own work be used against your team. 

Hoseok gives you the all clear to leave, but you're not sure you're ready to face the others just yet. “Could you give me a minute?” You request from Seokjin as he goes to open the door. He gives you a nod along with your hair tie, while you hand back his glasses. 

“Yeah, I’ll just go... fetch our coats.”

“Could you find my glasses too while you’re out there Galahad?” 

He freezes for a fraction of a second before giving you a hesitant response, “Yeah... yeah sure thing.”

What, no funny retort? No rebuttal? You thought calling him by his title would cause him to taunt you a little, but nothing comes of it. “If you can’t find them, the barkeep might have them.” That’s probably why the signal went dark, he must have moved them for safe keeping.

“Great. Just who I wanted to see.” He responds with a forced smile and gritted teeth. 

“If it’s that much of a problem I’ll go get them back myself.”

Seokjin leaves you with a grunt, “No, no, I’ll go see the cowardly Casanova.”

 The second he opens the restroom door you can hear Yoongi shout a request. “Galahad can I leave the team out back in your care? I need to move out and take this thief to Arthur for questioning.” 

Hwang had apparently regained consciousness, and starts arguing in his defence. “I didn’t steal that data! I just set them up with someone to make their tech. They were supposed to come here, they asked for a demonstration here and then stood us up!”   

Yoongi chooses to ignore him while he continues to give orders to Seokjin. “Make sure they drug the civilian, and then toss him behind the bar. Shouldn’t need to do much more than that, it already looks like standard bar brawl damage.” 

“That I can do,” Seokjin responds with satisfaction as he steps out letting the door close between the two of you. It’s amazing how much one flirtatious bartender appears to have got under his skin. 

You take a few minutes to straighten yourself in the mirror. Tying up your hair and closing the zipper on your dress when you spot several smudges of lipstick across your skin. You reach blindly for the paper towel, only to knock your purse to the floor in the process. A couple items roll away. Your pen, to your frustration, makes it all the way into the out of order stall. As tempted you are to leave it, you know it wouldn’t be wise to have something so lethal on the floor of a public bathroom.

With a groaning you crouch down, peering through the couple of inches between the stall door and the floor. Finding the missing item next to a pair of well worn leather shoes. You throw yourself back in shock grabbing your pistol from your overturned clutch, taking aim at the door bearing the sign. With a swift kick you force the stall open, and there passed out on the toilet is the man from the pictures behind the bar, the owner that Seokjin was asking after.    

“Shit.” You lower your gun as you run out of the bathroom calling out for back up. The bar is deserted though, Yoongi’s team has already left, forcing you to head down the long hall to the back door alone. You slow your steps as you reach the end of the corridor, starting to pick up bits of conversation between Seokjin and the imposter. You keep yourself plastered to the wall trying to assess the situation with a narrow view through the window next to the door.

The once friendly bartender points a gun at Seokjin. The other agents, those that were supposed to be keeping an eye on the ‘civilian’ are out of commission, all laying on the ground around him. 

“Call her out here, now.” The barman still holds onto his smile as he makes his demand, but now it only gives you chills as you try to puzzle out the motive behind it.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Seokjin keeps his hands at eye level, he’s trying to play the role of innocent bystander but that’ll only get him shot if he’s not careful. 

“The woman with you, that was Merlin, was it not? She designed this tech didn’t she?” He lifts your glasses for Seokjin to see. “And created the original cloaking program. I never should have outsourced it, she saw right through their guise. Since their product was faulty, I’ve been given a new directive.”

“Merlin? You mean like the magician in the old tales? Trust me that woman is nothing of the sort.” Seokjin is actually now chuckling despite having a gun held to him.

“Very well, if you won’t comply. We’ll just have to go retrieve her together.” He gestures Seokjin to the door with his gun. “After you.”

You shift yourself into position behind the door, when Seokjin opens it you remain concealed on the other side. Your fellow agent steps through, moving backwards to keep his eyes on the assailant, allowing him to spot you once he’s inside. You raise a finger to your lips holding your gun to your chest. You can’t let him give off any indication that he’s seen you. 

When Seokjin’s a few feet down the hall the aggressor proceeds to follow, and once his arm crosses the threshold you ram your full weight against the door. There’s a howl of pain as you trap his forearm in the door frame. The gun drops from his hand and hits the floor. Seokjin moves first taking the weapon and then the arm of the man who pointed it at him. You release the door and Seokjin drags the enemy in, throwing him against the wall. There’s a sickening crack as his head meets the concrete behind him.  

Though his body is now lip and eyes in a daze he still chuffs when he spots you, “So nice of you to join us Merlin, we were just talking about you.”

Seokjin pulls back a fist  letting land on the man's face with the full force of a brutal punch, finally sending the culprit into a comatose state.

“You okay?” You ask, noting his unusually rigid composure.

Seokjin nods, straightening his jacket as he lets the imposter fall to the floor. “Looks like I was right, you did catch his attention.” He boasts, with levity returning to his voice. “How did you know to come find me?”

“Found Choi, right where he said he’d be too...” You watch as Seokjin crouches down to retrieve your glasses from the man. “Who is he?”

“I don’t know, but I doubt he works alone.” Seokjin comments while staring at the tattoo that had caught your eye earlier, a flock in the shape of a V. 

...

Yoong makes a return trip, picking up the new captive as well as aiding the unconscious agents. The detainees will be moved to headquarters where they’ll be held for questioning before they’re turned over to the authorities along with a list of transgressions and admissible evidence.

After returning from the bar your base is busier than ever, with everyone following standard procedure and filing reports. There’s hardly room to move, let alone have a private moment with Seokjin to discuss what transpired. A full night and day go by with you only being able to lock eyes with him across the room. As much as you want to talk to him, your duty comes first, ensuring that everyone receives their new orders after the unusual turn of events.

You retreat to your room after a long day of report processing. There are still a few statements left to grab but those can be done tomorrow. The first recordings of the interrogation have come in and you're desperate to hear what Hwang has to say about the tech you found him with. To your delight it’s that exact question which Namjoon poses first.

Hwang rattles off the information, needing little prompting, they must have already cut a deal. “I was contacted  by an anonymous client over a year ago, they asked if I might know of someone who could utilize a cloaking program they had picked up, and apply it to something else. They wanted a mask, a way to hide in plain sight. I offered up a tech company who does some backwater dealings in armaments and weapons, and became the middleman between the two parties until the project was finished.”

“And you have no idea who hired you?” Namjoon asks. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Their wallet was big enough their identity wasn’t a concern, my main contact only referred to himself as V. He called me to the bar last night to provide a final demonstration to prove it worked before his agency made the purchase.”

Seokjin was right, Hwang was just a fence. Which would confirm the other man part of the group who orchestrated the data breach. 

You switch between the video files, hoping to find the other more enlightening. In the very centre of the shot sits the man dubbed as V. He answers none of the questions directed to him. Minutes pass while he remains silent looking directly into the camera with a  jeering grin and narrowed eyes. It’s off putting to say the least, no offer or deal can sway him to spill his knowledge. He looks content almost as if this is exactly where he wants to be. While the interrogators become increasingly frustrated, his smile only grows wider. 

You close out of the recording unable to take the silent stares any more. There’s nothing in his file they’ve attached other than physical attributes.  As you search the empty pages for a scrap of knowledge, a call request comes in from Arthur. You throw on your glasses answering in haste hoping he’ll have something new to share.

“Sorry to bother you so late. It’s been quite a day.” His voice is full of cracks and weariness.

“It’s no problem. I can only imagine after seeing the footage. Any new information on who this man works for? 

“No, nothing.”

“Oh,” Your voice echoes in confusion, “Was there something else you needed? Did you get my report?”

“Yes I did, thorough as usual. But it’s not your report I wanted to discuss.” Namjoon pauses again. ”I received an unusual request from Galahad at the end of his. I wanted to talk it over with you before I gave my answer.”

“Go ahead.” You cringe fearing what he might have said in his statement. 

“I freed him from lock down, and offered a new assignment, but he requested permission to stay and assist you with the vehicle repairs until they were completed. I would permit his extension, but I don’t believe that the answer to this decision rests fully with me, so I’m leaving it to you.”

“Don’t you need him back in the field? We don’t know who this man V is, or who he’s working for.” 

“And it’s doubtful that we’ll learn anything more anytime soon unless he starts answering our questions. There’s little direction in where we can take the investigation right now. I don’t have anything that requires urgent attention, that’s why the choice is yours to make. If you need help or want assistance he’s offering it to you.” 

“Thank you sir,” You’re grateful that he has left you with the final decision on the matter. “Would you mind if I spoke to him first before I decide?”  

“Not at all.”

...

You creep out into the common area, Hoseok is splayed out on the couch while Yoongi’s curled up on the armchair, but Seokjin is nowhere to be found. Did he leave the base taking advantage of his newly acquired freedom?

You doubt you’ll be able to sleep, not with the questions you have running through your head. Looking to keep your mind busy you descend the stairs and enter the passcode to your workshop, only to find the lights already on and Seokjin’s long legs sticking out from under the car. There’s a swear and a clang of a metal tool hitting the cement floor. You hold back a laugh as you approach, choosing instead to surprise him by pulling on the roller bed to tug him out from beneath the car.  

The initial shock on his face quickly changes to a smug grin. “I guess I’ve been caught.”

“Trying to sabotage my work again?”

“No, if you can believe it I’m actually trying to be an aid rather than a hindrance.”

“I’ll alert the media.” You fire back before diving into the more serious topic at hand. “I just got off the line with Arthur. He said you’ve been cleared to return to duty...”

Seokjin’s face falls slightly as he sits up on the rolling platform, “Oh-”

“But you also requested an extension here.”

“I did.” He looks up at you with sincerity, one that’s rarely seen on his face. No deflection to humour. This is just him. 

“I need to know why.” You keep your expression even, not wanting your feelings to influence him in any way.

“I want to help fix the car.”

“I need more of an explanation than that Seokjin. A few days ago you couldn’t wait to get out of here. ” This is it, there’s no room to spare feelings. He’ll tell you he feels guilty, or that he feels sorry for you, leaving you to send him on his way and that will be the end of this trial. 

“I don’t want things to go back to the way they were before. I like working with you, being here with you. You're not afraid to let me know when I’ve crossed the line.”

“So what, you just want to use me to keep you in check? I’m not here to fix you Seokjin.” You start to back away ready to send word to Namjoon that he’s free to assign him elsewhere when Seokjin grabs your hand, he rises from his spot on the floor in a rush to stand between you and the door. 

“That’s not what I meant. You make me want to be better.”

You pull yourself from his grip backing into the side of the car, “And after you’ve used me to better yourself, what then? You’ll just move on to your next project?” 

“No, fuck... I don’t know how else I can say it other than I like you Merlin. You aren’t the plan, you’re the objective.” He pauses for a moment, watching as his words sink in to you. “If you’re not interested in what I want to offer... I get it, but stop being so blind when it comes to yourself!” 

You fall still as you hear his confession, but you’re not ready to believe or condemn his words just yet. “If that’s the case why did you mock me at the bar?” Your voice wavers as you question him. “Why didn’t you say something?” 

“I was going to, but I didn’t think you would appreciate a drunken confession. You wanted a serious conversation, here it is. I want to stay here with you. Even if you’re not interested in a relationship, I respect that, but I still think we could both benefit from working together.”

He’s right, you might have believed him right then, but later, once the effects of the alcohol had worn off you would’ve thought it another game of his. You shift against the car embarrassed by your misreading of his motives, but pleased to see that they fall in line with your own.

“I wouldn’t say that I wasn’t interested...” You mumble your own confession carefully as he shifts in closer to his mouth catching a grin when he hears your words. “But staying would put you in a problematic position when you’re required to follow my orders. If we’re to continue down this path there wouldn’t be an equal power dynamic.”

“Good.” he mutters along with a chuckle. “Is that your only objection?”

“Yes, but-”

“Arthur released me from under your command. Any order you give will be discretionary.” 

“Discretionary orders?” You scoff. “You can barely follow mandatory orders.”

“Yes but it solves your problem, doesn't it? This way you can be sure that I will only follow an order if I want to.” He leans in placing his hands on either side of you on the hood of the car. “So Merlin, do you want me to stay?”

“Yes...”

“Do you want to continue what we started yesterday?” 

You nod biting your lip at the thought of it.

“Then I await your orders.” He stands still not moving an inch while you remain caged between his arms and caught in his eyes.

“Let’s be clear on something first,” You state, trying not to focus on how close his lips are or how soft they’ll feel when they touch your skin.“I don’t want you to think you are in any way saving me.”

“I am well aware of that now. I finally realise I need you to save me.”

“From what?” You can’t help but laugh at his conclusion.

“My impulsive actions.” He lifts you onto the car just like he lifted you onto the bathroom counter. “My runaway mouth.” He closes the distance for a swift kiss. “And my very unprofessional desires.” His fingers flirt with the bottom of your shirt taking up residence underneath the garment against the skin of your waist. 

“Yet you combat every effort when someone tries to restrain those tendencies,” You scold with a smile.

“You told me yourself I don’t go down easily... If you want to put me in my place you’re going to be more commanding.”

“And you would like that?” You ask in disbelief.  

“Why don’t you find out...” 

“Seokjin I-I don’t know if I-” You start to panic, stammering at the thought of going too far and becoming what others have thought of you before, “I don’t want you to hate...”

“If I need to stop I’ll tell you to brake. But right now I really want you to take the wheel, and put your foot down. No detours, just floor it.” He tightens his hold on you leaning in next to your ear with a growl. “Don’t get shy on me now. Give me your orders.” 

The cheek in his tone at last sets off the need for retaliation in you, evoking a desire to finally see him begging you for more. He’s never backed away from you, leaving you with no reason to believe he’ll do so now. If this is what he wants you’ll be happy to try and make him submit. “You can start with losing this.” You tug on his grease stained shirt. “And these too.” Dragging your finger over the waist of his jeans. 

He strips looking eager to play along. Leaving him in a pair of black boxers clinging to his swelling girth. “Like what you see?”

“You’ll do.” You snicker back at him. You take the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss, as he moves to hold your lower back. He finds his way between your thighs once again but this time there’s nothing to stop you both from going further. 

“Do you want to take those off?” You brush your hands on the elastic of his underwear.

“Yes.” His answer is short and sweet, with nothing to misinterpret. You could get used to this side of him.

“Then you’ll have to do something for me first.” You shift your pants down kicking them to the floor. Taking one last kiss of Seokjin’s lips before pressing his shoulders down to make his mouth level with your hips. The grin he gives is something to revel in, finally seeing it as a sign of desire rather than a farce.

He pulls your underwear to the side. The first lick is short and sweet causing you to flinch from the flick of his tongue. The second he takes care in following the line of your slit but he doesn’t pull away at the end, instead he latches on to your clit taking deep drags which pull you under in an instant. 

Your hand reaches out to grip his hair needing something to hold on to and hold him back with if necessary, but once your fingers tug at Seokjin’s locks he moans into your flesh. His hands pull you closer to the edge of the car allowing him to bury himself even deeper.    

He slowly gains a rhythm with his tongue and lips, but every time you come close, when your breathing becomes shallow he starts to pull back. He’s teasing you, clearly goading you to become more strict with your desires. 

“No more games Seokjin. If you can’t get me there in the next minute, I promise you’ll regret it.”

He pulls away for a moment to draw breath while giving you a taunt. “I’d like to see that.” 

He’s about to return to his task when you push him back, no longer giving him the chance at redemption. You point to a straight back chair facing away from you , “Sit down, with your head forward.” 

He does as you ask with a smile still stuck to the corner of his mouth. You slide off the car and move behind him towards your work desk, stripping off your shirt, and undergarments as you stray from his line of sight. Grabbing something from the inventory closet before you return to him, still hiding from his gaze .

He tries to look back at you but you put a stop to that. “Did I say you could look around?”

“No ma’am.” He chuckles back.

“Since you like games so much I thought of one to play. Give me your hand, and tell me what I put in it without looking.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with-” You cut off his complaint quickly by placing the metal object in his hand reaching out behind him. “Handcuffs?” Seokjin questions with surprise. “I stand corrected, this seems like a fun game.” 

“Put them on,” you order. He complies instantly, letting you check the tightness once he’s done. “Safey’s there if you need it. Just tell me to brake.”

“Oh no, I’m quite comfortable thank you.” He grins proudly as if this is what he was hoping for all along.

As you move in front of him finally gracing him with your nude form he stares back at you dumbfounded. You reach out to the corner of his mouth, which sits agape, wiping at the edge of his lips with your thumb. “Sorry I thought I spotted some drool.” Seokjin smiles at your mimicry and jab, but he has no words to follow with.

You kneel down in front of him, your hands trailing up to reach for his boxers. “May I?”

“Please do.”

You tug them down releasing his erection from the confines of the fabric. You're careful not to touch him, not wishing to give any satisfaction or stimulation. Once they’re pulled down to his ankles you move to the uninstalled backseat of the car sitting right across from him. Seokjin furrows his brow in confusion. 

“Something wrong?” You prompt hoping to have him admit that he wants you to return to him.

“No, just admiring the view.” 

“Really?” You persist in teasing him a little more, “Because it looks like you need something.”

“Only to know the next step in this game of yours.”

“You get to watch while I play.” You lay back on the car bench resting your feet on the soft leather. Your hand moving down between your legs picking up where Seokjin left off, with a slow rub to your crest.

“That seems unfair.” He flexes his arms, testing the cuffs as he watches you. 

“That’s what happens when you don’t read the instructions, I get to make the rules.” He lets out a groan as you close your eyes ready to concentrate on your own pleasure. You know you’re wet enough already but for good measure and Seokjin’s torturous show you prep your fingers in your mouth before slipping the tip of your index finger inside yourself. 

There’s a small whine from Seokjin, you look over to him, your eyes take a moment to focus on his face, his teeth digging into his now swollen bottom lip. “Let me help you, please.”

“That’s not how punishments work Seokjin. You had your chance, and you disobeyed.”

Giving him a side profile allows your thigh to hide the sight of your fingers dipping in. The sounds though, those are his to enjoy. You continue to satisfy yourself for a while longer enjoying the little jots of pleasure you can give yourself and Seokjin’s moan every time you twitch. It’s hard not to pay attention and give in to returning to him. With his cock pulsing against his leg with a drop of precum growing at the tip. His lip must be sore with how hard he’s biting down. 

Unable to ignore his whimpers any longer you get up from the leather bench. You present your fingers to his mouth damp from your ministrations. You don’t even get the chance to ask before he takes them into his mouth and licks them clean. When you pull them from his lips, he beams back at you. “Was that attentive enough for you?” 

“Very...” You commend him, straddling his legs facing him as you lower yourself. Your hand grips his cock while the other rests on his shoulder balancing yourself as you guide him inside. 

He gasps out a swear along with your real name as you sink down fully onto his lap. You lean into him letting your chest push against his as you rise and fall on his shaft. Pressing and grinding yourself against his seated form has him throbbing inside of you. He’s quickly become a breathy mess beneath you, a sheen of sweat covers his forehead, with even more dripping down his pecs. 

Your pace increases in speed as you edge closer to your climax. The warmth begins to spread to your extremities as you continue to thrust down. When the wave finally washes over you can barely move. “Fuck-” You whisper along with a plea. “Don’t you dare come yet.” You collapse against him riding it out, clenching while Jin groans.

“Take the cuffs off.” His moaning request is impossible to deny. As fun as it was to see him at your mercy you long to have his hands back on you. 

You reach for the restraints behind his back, with a quick press of a hidden release he’s free.  Wasting no time he grabs you, helping your legs to wrap around his waist. Positioning you securely against him, he rises to move two steps required in order to ram you back down onto the car bench. 

He pulls one leg up and over his shoulder while he holds the other level with his hip. Despite your sensitivity, he’s relentless in his thrusts, pushing you directly from the wave you just finished and on to the next. 

He’s so close to his end, his muscles tense, his face stern with a clenched jaw, it takes a moment for you to realize he’s waiting for your permission. He’s holding back until you give him the okay. “You can come Seokjin.” Upon hearing this his thrusts suddenly hit harder forcing you to cry out. “Fuck, please come.”

He shudders with the last impact. Releasing your legs, he lowers himself onto you while his cock still pulses inside. His head rests on the seat beside yours, the hot air from his heavy pants flows down your neck as you lay there trying to catch your own breath.

“I think we might have ruined the new car seat.” You chuckle at him, your laughter restricted by the pressure of his body on your chest. “I should probably order another.”

“And miss out on Hoseok’s expression when he realized what the stains are from?” He nudges closer, kissing the spot behind your ear with his swollen lips. “Not a chance.”

You start to drift beneath him content with the warmth and weight of his form. He gives you a few minutes rest caressing the side of your face with the tip of his finger before he poses an important question. “You’re still okay with me staying here then?”

You turn your head to meet his eyes with a smirk. “Yes, but you still have to earn your keep if you want a stay.” You gesture to the state that he’s left the workshop in, “In addition to cleaning up your mess.” 

Seokjin briefly glances to the tools strewn along the ground and then back at you with a smirk. He then shifts his whole body down, dipping his head back between your legs. “Yes ma’am.”  His tongue takes a long stroke, cupping your cum filled cunt. “Hope you don’t mind if I start here.”

#bts smut #seokjin smut #seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts reader insert #jin x reader #bts x reader #bts kingsman au #bts in need of orders #jin smut

[infernwetrust]

To Take Care Of [Duncan Shepherd x Jim Mason] Part 1

Summary: Duncan meets Jim at a beach bar while on a business trip and the two take it from there.

Warnings: smut, mentions of drug use, swearing, fluff, angst

WC: 3.3k

A/N: Duncan Shepherd x Jim Mason has been on my mind heavy lately. I think they’re my favorite pairing as of right now. Part 1/2! Thank you for reading! -Juno

GIF by drasangel

Just landed. Let's have dinner in a couple hours? x

Jim was a smiling mess as he peered down at his phone, reading the message. It had been almost 8 months since he last saw Duncan. Since the last time he kissed him. Since the last time he tasted him. Since the last time he felt him. But that's not all Jim missed about Duncan. With Duncan, came a sense of warmth and security that Jim felt with no one else. He felt invisible when he with him.

The two had met at a beach bar almost 2 and a half years ago. Duncan was on a 2 month long business trip, stationed out in California, so a nice hotel on the beach sounded about right. And for the hell of it, Jim and his friends just wanted to get out of their houses. How could the flirt in Duncan ignore the boy with the wetsuit that glorified all his features? How could he ignore his wet hair that he shook out of his face as he took a seat at the opposite end of the bar with a group of friends. And Jim had noticed too, quickly glancing over, just to be nosey and see who was sitting at the other end of the bar. And while Jim typically didn't seek out older men, he wasn't opposed to them neither.

His eyes quickly caught Duncan's gaze, but Duncan remained un-phased, not caring that he got caught staring. He wanted Jim to know that he was staring. And Jim knew he looked good in that wetsuit, too. He gave Duncan a tempting and inviting smile, biting down on his lip before returning his attention back to his friends, but now all that Jim could see, was Duncan. His soft, but daring blue eyes. His stubble, his plump lips. The way he held his glass in his hand with confidence, sipping it as he stared him down.

Jim could still feel his eyes burning into his back, so why not give him a little show? His wetsuit was beyond uncomfortable now that he was out of the water. He stood up, stretching before peeling the top layer of his wetsuit down, letting it hang just a little bit below his waist. He remained standing, leaning against the bar as he casually continued talking to his friends, Duncan's eyes scanning every inch of him now.

He gripped his glass tighter as he took the last sip of his vodka cranberry, requesting another one from the bartender right after. He was straining against his swim trunks now and it didn't even take much. Fucking eye candy Jim was. The entire time, the two traded looks from across the bar, basically eye fucking each other. Duncan would motion time and time again for Jim to come over, but the tease Jim was, he would shake his head no, motioning towards his friends. Duncan could care less who he was with. He wanted his attention now, all of it.

All while Jim was imagining what it would feel like to have Duncan's hands all over him as he fucked him into whatever surface. He didn't even know the man's name, but he wanted to do unspeakable things to him and with him. And if the beach bar wasn't so busy, he'd probably be on his knees in the sand for Duncan right now, sucking him absolutely dry. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat he was now back in, adjusting the issue between his legs and of course Duncan noticed.

He grinned. Jim was playing so hard to get, yet he was a crumpled mess under his gaze, which turned Duncan on even more. And when Jim and his friends decided that they were tired and it was time to go, they began to leave. Jim trailed behind them, wanting to take one last glance at the attractive older man at the bar. And when he passed him, Duncan grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Room 707, surfer boy." Duncan growled. "That's if you're interested." Duncan shifted in his seat, giving Jim a good look at the took between his legs. Jim bit down on lip, blushing as Duncan released his arm, turning back around to continue his conversation that he had struck up with the bartender.

Jim thought about the offer for a long time as he sat in the room that he shared with 3 other friends and when the opportunity presented itself, Jim snuck right out. He knocked on Duncan's door, exhaling a shaky breath. He couldn't lie and say that he wasn't nervous. For all he knew this man could kill him, but was it worth the risk? Jim thought so. Duncan opened the door, hair damp, towel drooped around his waist and a water bottle in his hand. He grinned for the second time that night, excited that the surfer boy took his offer.

"Jim, is it?" Duncan asked, eyeing him in the doorway. He had picked up on his name as one of his friends obnoxiously screamed it while laughing, slapping Jim's arm as he told a joke at the bar.

"Yeah.." Jim said, struggling to maintain eye contact with the man.

"Duncan." Duncan said back, grabbing Jim by his hand and pulling him into the room, closing the door behind him. And it wasn't long before the two were going at it. Jim had that towel snatched from around Duncan's waist in seconds. Sitting on the edge of Duncan's bed, Duncan standing in front of him, he let him have his way. Jim sucked Duncan up like his life depended on it, stroking himself to the sound of Duncan's grunts and occasional sighs and moans. And when Duncan decided that he needed a cool down because he was going to fuck the shit out of, he stopped Jim and returned the favor.

Jim was a squirming mess as he came in Duncan's mouth, Duncan swallowing every single last drop of him. And when Duncan did finally fuck Jim, he fucked him into the mattress with such an intensity that Jim didn't even realize he came again, hands free because his arms were pinned above his head, until he felt a hot and sticky liquid rubbing across him every time Duncan thrusted back into him. Duncan knew though. He watched it happened and it only pulled him closer to his orgasm. And when he was on the brink, he pulled out, throwing the condom to the side, and releasing himself all over Jim's stomach and chest, Jim rubbing Duncan's thighs as encouragement.

"Just stay..." Duncan grumbled, his arm wrapped around Jim's waist as he sat up, getting ready to put his clothes back on and head back to his room.

"My friends will be wondering where I am." Jim answered, resting his arm over Duncan's.

"Your friends aren't going to suck you dry again in the morning and take you to breakfast now are they?"

"I know one of them that might." Jim joked, causing Duncan to squeeze his hip and chuckle.

"You're a funny little thing, huh? I like you, Jim."

Jim didn't need much more convincing from Duncan to spend the night with him. And as Duncan promised, he milked Jim dry the very next morning and did in fact take him to breakfast. But even then, it didn't stop there. For the duration of Jim's mini-vacation with his friends, he found himself in Duncan's room almost every other night. And when Jim and his friends checked out, Jim still made his way back to the man. Whether it be breakfast, lunch, or dinner, or simply just to keep each other company, the both of them were there.

A little summer fling that Duncan found himself more than happy in. And while he had intended to just hookup with Jim the one night, all it took was for him to sit down and have one actual conversation with him to want to do nothing else with anyone for the rest of his trip. Each day Jim taught him something new, made him come out of his hardened shell a little bit more. In the short span of 2 months, Duncan had gone to Six Flags Magic Mountain, smoked weed for the first time, and ate a magic mushroom.

Jim has never worn so many suits before Duncan, but the surfer boy didn't mind the look. It made him feel confident. He's never been inside so many fancy restaurants and bars. Duncan had him eating things he never ever thought he would eat. And while Duncan dressed up, Jim also taught him that it was okay to dress down. It was summer after all and who wants to break a sweat all the time in a suit? Added to his wardrobe was a bunch of sweat and track pants, athletic shorts, plain tees, and graphic tees.

Duncan almost was too happy. And while he's had his relationships, he's never felt an initial connection with anyone like how he did with Jim. Which is why it was going to hurt him to tell Jim that his business trip was coming to end soon and that he had to go back to D.C. He wasn't expecting it to get this far between the two of them, which is why he held off saying anything in the first place. He was so sure that was it when he took Jim to breakfast, but his thoughts were full of nothing but Jim.

"Why did you wait so long to tell me?" Jim asked Duncan as he sat on the edge of the bed in his studio apartment. Jim didn't want nor need a full one bedroom. It was just him. He had more than enough privacy and was rarely home anyways. "You leave in 5 days and you're just now telling me?"

"Because." Duncan began as he pulled his slacks back up, buttoning them. Luckily, his morning meeting was pushed to late afternoon, giving him enough time to stop by Jim's before he was occupied for the rest of the day. "Honestly, Jim. I wasn't sure. I didn't know."

"Wasn't sure? Didn't know? Of what, Duncan?"

"Wasn't sure that we would still be talking at this point. Didn't know that we would get this close over 2 months."

"If you were looking for a little summer fuck, you could of been a little bit more straight forward." Jim spat. "If I would of known, I wouldn't have, fuck, never mind. It doesn't matter. You're leaving and this'll probably be the last time we talk."

"You wouldn't have what?"

"I said it doesn't matter."

"It matters."

"I wouldn't have gotten so fucking attached to you. Is this how you do all your little flings?"

"You're not just my little fling, Jim. And I'll be honest. At first, yes, I didn't have any intention of doing anything, but, fucking you. But come on Jim, that's how all hookups go. But it doesn't have to end here. I don't look at you as just a little fling Jim. I stopped looking at you like that after a week. I like you, Jim. You've given me some of the best experiences I've ever had. I don't regret a single thing that's happened between us."

"And now you can go home and just give everything to someone else, right? Duncan how am I suppose to deal with seeing you almost everyday to not seeing you anymore? How the fuck is it suppose to work?"

"We are in two different time zones. You're on the other side of the map, Duncan." Jim continued. "Tell me. How are we gonna make it work?"

"You're only 3 hours behind me. We'll call, text, video chat, whatever it takes. Besides, business trips to California for my company are more common than you think. And I wish you would stop being so one sided."

"How am I being one-sided?"

"You knew exactly what I wanted when you sat down at the beach bar 2 months ago. You undressed me with your eyes as I did you. I gave you a choice. You didn't have to come to my room, but you did. So at one point, I was your little summer fuck too." And that shut Jim right up. He sighed, running his hand through his hair as he simply just looked at Duncan, speechless.

"Look." Duncan, continued, throwing his button-up on. "I'll make time for you, Jim. I'll come visit you, business trip or not. And if you're up to it, maybe one day you'll come visit me in D.C. too. But that's only if you want to keep seeing me after I leave."

"I don't know right now."  Jim answered truthfully. "It's hard for me to make another choice. It's hard when for 2 months you spend the entire time getting to know someone you think you might have a chance with and then you learn that he won't always be around." Duncan huffed, scratching the back of his head.

"Then don't make a decision right now. You don't even have to make one before I leave." Duncan finished putting the rest of his clothes on before walking over to the edge of the bed where Jim sat. "The choice is always going to be yours. I'm just glad I got to spend a summer not just doing business. I'm glad I got to spend a summer with someone who actually makes me happy. And I know it's sucks that I have to leave and I'm sorry if that's hurting you, but I promise Jim, you're not just a quick summer fling to me. Not anymore."

Duncan scanned Jim's eyes for any sort of emotion or response, but he couldn't pick up on any. He gave Jim a few minutes and when Jim still didn't give him an answer, Duncan simply cupped his cheek and kissed him on his forehead.

"Take care of yourself, Jim." was the last thing Duncan said to him before leaving his apartment for his scheduled business meeting that day.

For the next 4 days, Duncan and Jim did not speak. But they would be fools to say that they constantly weren't thinking about each other and what the other was doing. Jim was the first one to break. Duncan was a man of his word and when he said he wasn't going to pressure Jim, he meant that, but was he elated when he phone lit up the night before he was suppose to leave the next day and Jim's name appeared across the screen. Jim was asking Duncan if he could come spend his last night with him in his hotel room and of course Duncan wasn't going to say no. They had sex for what would be the last time for the next 4 months before Duncan could come back to California, the both of them giving it their all.

"Remember." Duncan said as he loaded up the last of his luggage into his rental car, Jim leaning on his car that was parked next to Duncan's. "This doesn't have to end here."

"I know." Jim said, lowly. Duncan walked over to him, giving him a soft kiss on the lips before pulling him into a hug.

"I'll text you as soon as I get home, okay?"

"Okay."

Jim had his doubts after Duncan left, but Duncan was always quick to reassure Jim that things would never change. The occasional argument came, but that was only because Jim couldn't stand to be away from Duncan for such long stretches at a time.

But that was then. And this is now. And all the doubts that Jim had, for the most part, were gone. He quickly shot Duncan a reply that read,

Did you even have to ask?

He closed his messages, staring at his Home Screen picture. Jim sat, cradling Duncan's lap, while Duncan leaned back in his office chair, shirt undone just enough so you could see the scratches Jim left behind. Jim has his hand placed just below the scratches. Duncan seductively smiles at the camera, biting down on his lip. This picture was one of Jim's favorites because it was the first time he had ever visited D.C., Duncan flying him out. And then there was his Lock Screen, his absolute favorite. Him and Duncan stand together on a boardwalk, colorful lights and a beautiful body of water behind them. Duncan has his arm around Jim's shoulder and Jim has his arm around Duncan's waist. Duncan presses a warm kiss on Jim's temple as Jim, almost teary-eyed, smiles at the camera.

That picture was taken a year ago. That was the day that the two became official. That was the day that Duncan told Jim that he loved him and that he was in love with him. Excited, Jim got up and took a shower. He spent the rest of the evening picking out what he was going to wear. Dress shirt after dress shirt, he couldn't decide on a color, so he kept it traditional, but fitted, so that it hugged every inch of his body for Duncan to see. White dress shirt, black slacks, black suit jacket, and the prettiest fucking black dress shoes you could lay your eyes on.

He sat on his couch, leg nervously tapping away as he waited for Duncan. And when his door bell rang, he couldn't get up fast enough, almost spilling his water on his nice suit. When he swung his door open, he was so excited to see than man before him that he didn't even realize how under dressed he was. Duncan was wearing a pair of blue adidas track pants, ans a blue adidas sweatshirt.

"Fuck..." Duncan mumbled as he looked Jim up and down, setting the grocery bags down on the floor. Jim was still trying to find the words to say as he smiled “Mr. Mason if this is the route you were trying to go, why didn't you let me know?"

"Huh?" Jim said snapping out of his trance, realizing how over dressed he was. "Oh. I thought you said we were having dinner? Wait, having, not going to, fuck." Jim reached for some of bags Duncan had, helping him set them down in the kitchen.

"I spent all evening trying to figure out what to wear for you and this is all I could come up with."

"You did all that for me?"

"Yeah, but I'm going to go take it off now and come cook with you."

"No. Keep it on."

"Dunc, pleaseeeee. Can I at least take off the suit jacket? It's a little tight."

"Fine, but the suit jacket oh and the tie, and loosen a few buttons. Actually, c'mere." Jim hurried over to Duncan, who quickly pulled him into a passionate kiss that screamed nothing, but I love you and I've missed you. Duncan gripped Jim's hips, pulling him closer to him and deepening the kiss. Jim's hands made their way up to Duncan's face, cupping his cheeks as he bit down on Duncan's bottom lip, causing him to let out a stifled moan, prompting Jim to slide his tongue inside his mouth. Duncan didn't put up much of a fight, missing his Jim too much. He wanted whatever Jim did.

The two pulled away, attempting to catch their breaths, foreheads resting against one another's. They touched noses as their breathing evened out. Duncan grabbed onto Jim's wrist, rubbing his thumb across the back of his hand as it still gripped his cheek.

"Welcome home, Dunc."

"Feels s'good to be home, Jim."

Taglist: @jimmason @angelicmichael @whatcodysaid @9layerdevilfoodcake  @xavierplympton @guiltyfiend @theneverendinghunger​

#cody fern imagine #cody fern #jim mason smut #duncan shepherd smut #duncan shepherd imagine #duncan shepherd #tribes of palos verdes #house of cards #duncan shepherd x Jim mason #jim mason

[vinylhazza]

can u pls write something with dirty talk and facefucking for grayson 🥺🥺

*screaming DEVILISH by chase atlantic*

“holy shit she worshiping my dick like it’s the holy father”

i’m not saying grayson loves to hear you choking on his dick but he for sure loves to hear you choking on his dick.

most of the time, gray can handle your attitude and snarky remarks. you being a brat was something he’s used to by now. but he will admit that some days - he would like nothing more than to shut that pretty little mouth up in any way he can. sexual or not. and today must have been one of those days.

you wouldn’t stop. it was a constant picking, picking, picking at his nerves. at first he thought that maybe he did something to upset you, and tried to understand that you get a bit petty when you’re upset. but after a while, he realized that...you were fucking being mean on purpose. because you know what comes after if you get him too upset. and you loved it. you craved for him to grab you by your neck and pull you into him, lips hovering over yours, mumbling a little “seems to me you’re having a little attitude problem today.”

and you would grin. an evil little grin that lets him know that yes: this is exactly what you want. to be punished. have you put in your place in the crudest way - that way being his dick slamming down your throat. 

“i’m not doing anything,” you stutter, clenching at the feeling of his large hand wrapped lightly around your thought. just the right pressure to constrict your air but have you drooling.

“don’t act so clueless. like you haven’t been a cunt to me all fucking day on purpose,” he snaps, staring at you hard in the eyes, irises blown out and black. like a demon. like he hates you. like he wants to ruin you. he doesn’t want you to ever get it twisted and think you can disrespect him and get away with it.

“w-well i-“ you try and backtrack, not knowing if getting him so pissed off was a good idea.

“you what? you got caught? i don’t want to hear it. in the living room, on your back, on the couch, shirt off, now. that’s not a request,” he orders, mocking you before shoving you back gently by your neck in the direction of the living room. when he lets go you take a deep breath, hanging your head a bit as you walk shamefully from the kitchen, an excited bubble forming in your tummy. he’s so mad, you think.

you know it’s wrong to make him mad on purpose, that it’s fucked up and wrong, but your body craves that rough fuck type of night. and if getting him enraged was the way to get what you wanted, then you honestly didn’t feel that bad.

tugging the plain black tee off of your torso on the way to the couch was the best feeling in the world. because that meant it was finally time for your dirty little mouth to be silenced. you knew what he planned on doing, that’s why has specifically not requested your pants be removed as well. because this isn’t about you. this is about him fucking that nasty attitude straight off your tongue. he didn’t want you getting any bright ideas that you could touch yourself, think about touching yourself, or expect him to fuck you into the early morning hours. a punishment is just that.

laying down on the plush cushion of the couch, head hanging just slightly over the edge, legs thrown over the back, your nipples hard and perky, hands needy for something to grab onto - you lick your ruby lips and wait for grayson to enter the living room and find you being a good girl for the first time all day. and when he does stalk through the doorway from the kitchen, he’s bare and hard as can be. you gasp audibly, a loud sound that shoots through the room. you forget sometimes when you aren’t both in a desperate, hot, blind lust, ‘let me get you in me now’ type of moment - that grayson was hung like a horse. and it shocks the daylights out of you so quickly, you don’t recall him walking so close until his tip is smoothing over your bottom lip.

he’s holding himself loosely, hair flopping in front of his face from looking down at your eyes that constantly seduce him, tapping his tip at your lips, slick and smooth and he’s already so fucking excited and pissed off that he’s leaking precum. just a small amount that leaks from his tip, close enough for you to taste. he jerks when your tongue peaks from between your lips to lick the creamy liquid off of his member, suckling just a bit on the reddened tip before popping free a second later.

“want you,” you whine, reaching up and pushing on the back of his inked thighs, giving him a squeeze to try and convince him to just let you have him already - ruin your throat and make you regret ever being a brat to him. but he tenses and you know better than to keep pushing.

“yeah? how bad?” he teases, taking a step back away from your hands, grinning when you lick at your lips once again, the taste of him lingering. such a desperate little slut. always so ready for his cock, willing to make him angry just to have him punish you.

“really bad g,” you simper, sticking your tongue out to show him just how much. instead of his cock landing on your tongue, you feel the subtle roughness of his thumb, smoothing over your tongue slowly. taking what you can get, you suck on it for just a moment before he removes his hand to grip himself again.

“my little bitch wants my cock in her mouth bad huh?” he continues to mock you, slipping himself in your mouth for a split second before pulling right back out, ignoring how good your tongue stroked him on the way out of your warm mouth for the time being. so fucking good.

staring down at your tits begging to be played with, he’s reaching forward to tug at one of your nipples, slapping your cheek in the process. even if you flinch, he knows you love the pain. but you still haven’t answered.

“answer me when i ask you a question.”

“yes i want your c-cock please let me have it,” you whine, reaching your hands out in a grabbing motion that on any other occasion he would find adorable, but not after being irritated with you all day. especially not with the way his dick twitched at your tiny little voice, tongue poking back out in an attempt to suck him back in.

“better make it worth my while,” is all he grunts before snapping his hips forward and burying all of his length in your throat, groaning at the warmth of your mouth and the slickness of your tongue sliding over him, “all that attitude earlier. pissing me the fuck of. better take all of me and like it.”

he throws his head back with the feeling of your cheeks suctioning around him, throat constructing, your gagging sounds muffled from him sinking in repeatedly. he’s got your head in his hands, fists wrapped up in your hair, holding you steady while he rocks forward. you’re doing the best that you can with what little air and brains you have at that point, moaning from the way he’s using you like the little toy you are.

“this what you wanted, y/n? wanted me to shut that mouth up?” grayson laughs, knowing you can’t answer. not with the tears and mascara that have made their way down your face, your thighs rubbing together, nails digging into his thighs (he’s gonna love those little crescent moon marks later), spit making a squelching sound every time he sinks all the way to his hilt - your chin pressed against his skin. you look dirty, used, sorry, and he loves it.

his thrusts quickly become frantic, fast and erratic, balls hitting your nose, tip ramming the back of your throat, tongue still smoothing over him with every push and pull. he’s absolutely spent, but he won’t stop until he’s sure you understand he does not play the disrespect game. and fuck - you feel so good. so wet and slippery as he continues to dip into his own pool of sin for the day.

“fuck yeah baby, fuck you like that don’t you? feel me all the way down your filthy throat. gonna cum gonna cum-“

your shaky hands tap a few times at the skin of his thighs, on a cloud of who knows what - desperation? lust? guilt? you don’t know. you just know you want to feel him let down right in your mouth. wanna taste all of him and show him how sorry you are, even if the hoarseness of your voice will prove just how sorry you are tomorrow.

and when he does let go, he screams a big “dammit” while shooting his load right in your mouth like you were hoping. you feel for a moment as if it might never stop, it’s definitely the most he’s ever released in your mouth. he rocks through his orgasm, hips moving forward slowly, your lips still wrapped around him tight and you make sure to keep sucking the entire duration - you wouldn’t dare let a drop go to waste.

he’s leaning down and gripping your chin, looking directly into your innocent “come kiss me” eyes, glaring at you for just a moment longer before he’s growling lowly, “don’t be fucking mean to me. understood?”

and you bet your ass you’re nodding your head like a good little girl, pucckering your lips for a kiss, heart melting at the way his eyes flicker from your tired eyes to your rosy lips before he leans in to seal his lips to yours. you sink into the kiss the best that you can with him being upside down. you just take your time to explore his lips and appreciate the softness of them before reaching up to cradle his face, batting your eyes lashes at him in the most innocent way you can muster.

“i’m sorry for being mean to you, honey,” you mumble, kissing him from his nose, to both his cheeks, and finally one last peck on the lips.

he smiles at that, softening up for you just like he always does. he can’t stay too mad for long.

“you’re forgiven angel, now get up we have food waiting in the kitchen that’s probably getting cold by now and your fine ass needs to eat.”

#asks #gray!concepts #grayson!concepts #*casually sucks popsicle while writing this*

[artificialqueens]

Taste of a Poison Paradise, Chapter 9 (Multi) - Joley

Chapter Summary: In the wake of Lemon’s outburst at the club, those closest to her process the fallout and realize something needs to be done before she spirals to the point of no return.

ao3 link

“Okay, I think that’s the last box,” Juice remarked as she dropped herself down onto the couch. “So, why’d your cousin kick you out again?”

Lemon scoffed and rolled her eyes as she piled up the empty boxes. “She didn’t kick me out, we both decided it was time for me to move.” She decided her college friend-turned-roommate didn’t need to know about the argument she had with Rosé. And she certainly didn’t need to know that she’d rejected her ultimatum of, “if you want to stay here, you can’t keep getting drunk every day.” It had been a week since the incident at the club and she was going to recover from it on her own terms.

“Alright, cool,” she shrugged as she took out her phone and began aimlessly scrolling. “You wanna do something tonight?”

The blonde perched herself on the armrest of the couch, swinging her legs. “We could go to a club and get shitfaced,” she suggested.

Juice shook her head without looking up from her phone. “You can. I mean, I’ll totally go with you and turn shit up, but I don’t drink.”

“More for me.”

Her friend looked her over with a concerned expression, eyes finally pried away from the screen. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked gently. “I mean, I know you’ve been through a lot, have you considered talking to someone about it?”

Lemon shook her head. “I’m fine, I don’t have the emotional capacity for therapy.” She got back up and looked around. “Shit, I guess you don’t have any liquor in here then. I’ll be back,” and after putting her shoes on and grabbing her purse, she was out the door, leaving a concerned new roommate in her wake.

——

Rosé sighed as she passed the joint back to Mik. “This doesn’t make me a bad person, right? I mean the last thing I want to do is make Lemon’s issues about me. But god, that really is what made me realize that I have to do this.”

Mik shook her head as she took a hit. “It’s not your fault, you saw a trainwreck and realized you needed to keep your ass on the tracks.” She finished off the joint and put it out. “Listen, the last thing you wanna do is be that girl who pines over the person she’s sleeping with until it’s too late.”

“You’re right, I know. I’m gonna talk to her,” she exhaled deeply as she pushed herself up. “If Lemon comes around, please don’t have sex with her.”

“Oh fuck off,” she huffed, “that delayed her mental breakdown by at least a week.”

Rosé rolled her eyes as she left. She wasn’t mad at Mik for that, if anything maybe it did help Lemon temporarily by giving her a distraction. But she had so much more on her mind, things that have been brewing since the club incident.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she knocked on Denali’s door, evening out her breathing while she waited for her.

“Hey Rosie,” Denali smiled warmly as she opened the door, leading her inside and shutting it behind them. “What’s up? You usually text me when you’re on your way over.” They sat down on the couch as she spoke, a tinge of concern in her voice.

She swallowed thickly, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. “I know I’ve been distant lately with everything that’s been happening with Lemon. But through all the chaos, I realized something, that keeping your feelings bottled up is dangerous.” Another deep breath, this time she forced herself to look into Denali’s eyes, eyes that she found warmth and comfort in every time she gazed into them. “What I’m trying to say is that I have feelings for you. I don’t just wanna be fuck buddies, it’s not enough. I need all of you.”

Denali blinked, taking her time to process Rosé’s confession. At first it was pure surprise, but once she let it sink in, it clicked that she felt the same way, that she had been falling for her all along without realizing it. “You have all of me,” she told her, cupping her face and pressing a deep kiss to her lips.

In that moment, a weight lifted from Rosé’s chest. If only for the duration of a kiss, she could pretend nothing in the world existed outside of Denali’s apartment. She could stop thinking, stop worrying. It was only them, everything else faded to black. “Are we alone?” she asked against her lips.

“Mhm,” she nodded, a slight smirk tugging at her lips, able to fill in the blanks from there. Her hands traveled down Rosé’s body, tugging off her shirt in one swift motion, her own following suit, though they took their time undressing each other, letting their fingers and lips gently caress each other’s skin.

By the time they were both completely undressed, they had gotten each other thoroughly worked up. Rosé had Denali sit up on the couch, then got on her knees in front of her, pushing her thighs apart. She moved in between them, dragging her tongue along her pussy before circling, then sucking on her clit as she eased a finger into her.

Denali’s head lolled back to rest against the back of the couch, a pleased moan escaping. “Mm, Rosie…” she exhaled, her hips pushing up when Rosé slid in a second finger. “Baby, just like that, feels so good.”

She basked in the praise, continuing her movements, occasionally switching her tongue and her fingers, but never leaving her unattended. She was focused and fervent, bringing Denali to an orgasm as quickly as she could, as if she were setting it as a challenge to herself. Once she’d won her game, she pulled back with a smile, gazing up at her. “God, you’re beautiful.”

“And you’re sappy,” she teased affectionately, leaning down to kiss her. “Come on,” she got up and pulled Rosé to her feet, “we can cuddle until I gotta get ready for my shift.”

——

Nicky watched Jan with a concerned expression. She wished she knew what to do, how to talk to her and help her. Ever since the incident at the club, she had been quiet, withdrawn, two words she would never think to associate with the bubbly woman she loved so dearly. It killed her to see her girlfriend hurting, enough for her to put her aversion to emotional conversations aside as she sat beside her on the couch, gently taking her hand. “Please tell me what’s wrong. You haven’t been the same since what happened with Lemon and I’m worried about you.”

Jan chewed on her lip, her gaze downcast. Logically, she knew she couldn’t avoid this conversation forever, but it didn’t make it any easier. “Lemon is like a sister to me and I’m worried about her. I know what alcoholism looks like… and I know what it can do to someone, it’s not pretty.”

She furrowed her brows, shifting closer to the younger woman. “What do you mean?”

“Well, um…” she swallowed thickly, “my dad’s five years sober now, but it hit a nasty low before it got better. I-I don’t know what that low would be for Lemon, I’m afraid she’s hit it, but I’m even more afraid she hasn’t.”

Nicky nodded as she listened. She had suspected Lemon might have developed a bit of a drinking habit, but not the severity, and certainly not the effect it would have on Jan. “I am so sorry about your father, and about Lemon. Is there anything we can do?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “My dad went to rehab while I was away at college, but I imagine my mom laid down some ultimatums, but I don’t know if Lemon thinks she has anything left to lose.”

“There has to be some way, and I’m going to help you find it,” she promised.

——

“Thank you all for meeting me here,” Juice said as she looked around the two pushed-together tables in the diner. “For those of you who don’t know, my name is Julia - Juice - and Lemon moved in with me about four days ago.”

“What happened?” Rosé immediately asked. “Is she okay?”

The blonde hesitated and looked down at the table. “Technically yes, she’s nursing a hangover at home right now but otherwise fine, unless she’s started day drinking. But there’s a bigger issue, and I’m sure you guys have started to suspect as much. What I’m trying to say is she’s developing an alcohol problem, and if we don’t do something about it now, it could get much worse.”

Everyone else had similar expressions - sadness, concern, anxiety. But none of them were surprised. “What do we do, then?” Rosé asked, breaking a tense moment of silence.

“Listen, I’m not claiming to be an expert. I’m twenty-two, sober for eight months now, so I can relate to how she’s feeling. What she’s going to need is everyone to rally around her, because it won’t be easy to convince her to get help.”

“So can we stage an intervention?” Jaida asked. “Do you have someone we can talk to?”

Juice nodded. “I can talk to my sponsor and have her put us in touch with someone who can get her into a detox, put the whole thing together. It goes so far beyond just telling her to stop drinking, especially in a club environment.”

“Speaking of the club environment,” Gigi chimed in, “we have to address the elephant in the room. What are we gonna do about the Priyanka situation? She told Crystal she’s taking a day job until things cool off, but if Lemon gets help… maybe that’ll expedite the process.”

Jackie sighed, but agreed. “I can open auditions to take on another dancer temporarily, I don’t know how long she’s gonna need, but assuming she chooses to get help, I want her to know she has a place to come back to.” She was quiet for a moment, then added, “I’m going to reach out to Priyanka too, I know she hasn’t been answering most of our calls or texts, but I think I might be able to get through to her.”

“My god, we’ve been so caught up with Lemon, we’ve barely kept up with Pri. Are we bad friends?” Jan asked, feeling a mix of guilt and sadness.

Juice shook her head. “No, of course not. Everyone here is doing their best. You guys reach out to Priyanka and figure out a way to get Lemon to the intervention when the time comes, I’ll do what I can on my part.” From there, they all just had to hope for the best.

——

Jackie took a deep breath, making sure she was calm and collected before knocking on the door. When a woman with black hair and tattoos opened the door, she greeted her politely. “Hi, you must be Scarlett. Um, can you tell Priyanka that Jackie’s here to see her?”

Scarlett nodded, disappearing back into her apartment. There was a solid few minutes of waiting, but Priyanka eventually came to the door. “Hey,” she greeted meekly and led Jackie inside.

Jackie sat at the edge of the bed in the guest room Priyanka had been staying in. “How have you been? You know we’re all worried about you.”

Priyanka’s gaze never left the floor. She picked pieces of lint off of her shorts as she sat down as well, swinging her legs aimlessly. How could she even begin to tackle that question when everything she had ever known had changed overnight? How can anyone process that sort of thing? “Scarlett convinced me to try therapy. I’ve had a couple sessions so far… It helped, I think, but it’s just scratching the surface, you know?”

She listened attentively, nodding along. “I’m proud of you for that. How did your family react when you and Mark broke up?”

“It’s funny, as angry as he was, he didn’t out me. He said it’s clear I have my own problems to work through. My mom was furious that the wedding was called off, so I threw in the ‘I like girls’ news because, well, it couldn’t get any worse,” she sighed. “I don’t think it’s fully hit her yet. She asked me if it was an excuse to get out of the wedding. I haven’t heard back since I told her it was the truth, and I haven’t heard from my dad at all.” She laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I couldn’t even say that I’m gay. It’s too much, I can’t just be gay,” she sat back up and grabbed a tissue, quickly dabbing the corners of her eyes. “How do you get past it, Jackie? How do you stop being afraid of yourself?”

Jackie pressed her lips together as she tried to articulate an answer. “There’s no easy solution, but I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now. I don’t think I was ever ready to be gay, one day I just came to terms with the fact that I was miserable trying to avoid my own truth and that the only way I was ever going to be happy was by loving even the scariest parts of myself.”

Priyanka went quiet again, crumpling the tissue in her hand and staring at it as if the answers were there. “So you don’t think I’ll be able to be fully happy until I embrace being gay?”

“That’s for you to decide. But think of it this way; when you think about your future, best case scenario, what is it in your life that’s making you happy?”

The answer for that wasn’t in her hand, it was in her heart. It made its way into her throat, choking her from the inside and making her pulse race. After everything, it nearly made her angry that it felt inevitable. “Lemon.”

——

“Juice just texted me that they’re on the way,” Rosé read off her phone, her free hand squeezing Denali’s tight, her leg bouncing anxiously.

The woman they’d brought in to help Lemon, Widow, nodded calmly. “Remember, at the end of the day we are here to help her. We’re not punishing or lecturing her, but we have to be firm.”

After another review of the plan, they heard the door open and looked up to see the two girls walk in, Lemon’s expression immediately becoming confused as she looked around. “Are you guys fucking intervention-ing me?” she asked as she took the empty seat to the right of Rosé.

“Lemon, your friends and family are here because they care about you and are worried about your health,” Widow explained. “Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘this bitch wants to send me to some random rehab until I come back sober for good’, but this isn’t like that. We get that you’re twenty-one, fresh out of college, no history of addiction.”

“So why am I here?” Lemon interjected.

Rosé arched her brow. “Well, for starters, you haven’t been sober a full twenty-four hours in nearly three weeks, you’ve been acting completely unhinged every time you get trashed. You’re actively trying to alienate yourself from everyone who cares about you, you-” She stopped short when Denali squeezed her hand, her cue to reel it in. “You’re going down a dangerous path and we don’t want you to get hurt.”

“This isn’t one of those ninety-day programs either,” Jackie chimed in. “It’s only three weeks, and the first five days are just for detoxing. We’re not saying you have to be sober for good, this isn’t AA, it’s a program that’s going to give you the support and help you need to still enjoy things in moderation instead of relying on alcohol as a coping mechanism.”

Lemon nodded and listened as the rest of the group said their pieces to try to convince her to go. And she took it in, but she was also looking around and at the door. After a while, it became clear that she was waiting for - hoping for - another person.

“Priyanka wanted to come,” Jackie told her. “But we weren’t sure how you would react and decided it would be better if she waited at least until after you detox to contact you. You have to know, though, she really does care about you.”

She sunk further into her chair, not angry, but embarrassed. It shouldn’t have had to come to this, she knew that, knew better. And she hated that everything they said was right, that she did need help. “Fine,” she mumbled, “I’ll go.”

There was a collective sigh of relief as the tension dissipated throughout the room. “Rosé and Juice will go back with you to your apartment so you can pack, we’re going to get you checked in tonight,” Widow explained. “The facility is in Westchester, you won’t be more than an hour away and visitation is every Saturday.”

Rosé looked at her younger cousin and could tell she was doing her best to cover her fear and anxiety. She wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tightly. “You’re going to be okay, baby,” she promised, “they’re gonna take good care of you, and you’re gonna be better than ever once you’re done.”

Lemon nodded quietly, wiping her eyes. “I just wanna get this over with,” she mumbled, still unwilling to allow herself to be vulnerable in front of everyone, though the group anticipated that from her and let it be. All any of them could do now was trust the process.

#rpdr fanfiction #taste of poison paradise #joley #lemyanka #rosnali #jan x nicky #jan sport #nicky doll #lemon #priyanka #juice boxx #rosé #denali foxx #lesbian au #smut

[spilled-some-blood]

Deal’s A Deal

Freddy Krueger x F.Reader

Welcome to Charlie at 2 am writing for the Freddy fans instead of working on their job application because they don’t make good life choices

Summary: In which Freddy Krueger meets a child who seemed unfazed by him, ending in a strange bond over the years.

You opened your eyes, your hands brushing against cold stone ground. You swore you had fallen asleep.

Glancing around, it felt all to real, and yet not. Were you lucid dreaming?

That was perhaps the most possible explanation, you were in a dream. That makes sense.

You stood up off the concrete floor, leaves were piled around you. It was dark, still night time and there was a fog in the air.

You had begun walking to the exit of the alleyway you were in before a shadowed figure appeared ahead, walking towards you.

The sounds of screeching metal rang through the alleyway, and you were heavily confused.

Then the figure became more clear the closer he edged towards you. Strolling to you casually.

You didn't move, staring at the man with a frown as he came into view, making out the details.

A striped green and red sweater like one's your aunt would buy you for Christmas. Interesting choice, but you did like the feature of a fedora. You always thought those were cool.

"And who are you?" You rose a brow, intrigued buy the fact his skin... it was burned you guessed, or radiated.

"Your worst nightmare." He cackled, only a few steps away, and you took notice of the claw-like blades.

"That does not answer my question." You reply unfazed, catching him by suprise.

He walked closer, leaning down and his eyes met yours. "Freddy Krueger." He grinned, bringing the claw up infront of your face menacingly. "Are you not scared? I could kill you right here and now." He states, one of the blades brushed against your skin in a small prick.

"I've... seen scarier." You then state with a grimace to the fact. "And this is a dream, it's impossible to hurt me in such a state."

"You're much different from other seven year olds aren't you?" He says with an irritated look.

"Obviously." Was your reply before staring at him. "I'm eight, get your fucking facts right."

He raises a brow, "have not met a kid who swears." Bending down to meet your eye again.

"You pick it up after a while." You shrug. "And like I said, this is a dream." You roll your eyes, brushing past him to walk out the alleyway. You wanted to explore this strange setting. "So where are we?"

"Elm street." He scoffs, following after your smaller form. "You're not scared of me?" He asks for more confirmation.

Your eyes turn to him, widening when his eyes roll back, going into his head and bugs begin to pour out from the empty sockets. You shivered, yet you weren't afraid.

You saw him clench a hand, pulling a centipede from his eye before the eyes just roll back.

"That's disgusting, not scary." You snicker when he scowled, enjoying making him annoyed. You moved away from any bug that did try to crawl at you.

He grumbles something incoherent, and you turn back to continue your stroll, unfazed by his preformance.

You turned down the street, walking down the sidewalk

"Are you real?" You asked, then added; "like... do I know you in real life? I've heard that people you see in dreams you've met in real life."

You ask, curiously.

"I'm very real." He says in a tone that speaks menacing. Though he still follows you. "This is our first meeting."

You pause, turning your head to glance at him. "You say that as though it will not be our last."

"It won't." He states, and you eye him before turning your attention back to exploring the darker version of Elm street.

•▪°○°▪•

Like he had stated, it was not your last meeting.

You thought he was calling bluffs when you thought he couldn't hurt you physically, until he proved you wrong.

It was a single small cut on your arm, it hurt like a bitch. You'd tell him repeatedly, still thinking it'd be gone when you woke up.

But once again you were wrong.

You awoke with a hiss, feeling a warm liquid seep into your shirt. You opened your eyes to the dimly lit room, and saw the cut on your arm, still completely real.

You were wrong.

So you had turned more cautious. Not scared, but cautious of his actions.

And yet, he hadn't killed you. Or caused any more harm to your being, after seeing him be so smug as you confessed you were wrong.

Days of seeing him in your dreams turned to weeks.

Nothing in your strange relationship has changed, it seems as though you tried to get reactions from each other.

There was always that one night when he has always tried to scare you, to make you fear him.

In every situation you always said the same thing;

"I've seen scarier."

And them weeks became months.

Months to a few years.

•▪°○°▪•

You came home, groaning in frustration as you heard your parents fighting in the living room, again.

You snuck past it, not wanting to be thrown into the mess.

You had homework to do, senior year of high school has not been so easy for you. Although you could celebrate in some ways.

You were almost 18, a legal adult. Eventually you could leave this prison of a house.

You were never scared of the man named Freddy Krueger, because you didn't have many fears.

You have seen scarier, scarier than guts and blood, scarier than bugs or spiders.

You had grown up independently, unable to rely on your parents for even a single drop of support your life. They had always fought, and if they didn't fight one or the other would verbally abuse you.

You supposed it was an immunity you had created after such a long duration of exposure to their toxicity.

You didn't even know why they hadn't choosen to divorce.

Seeing Freddy every night in your dreams always reminded you he was the only possible "friend" you had.

It kinda hurt to admit it.

You were well aware of his past when you did your own research (- not snooping around or anything -) at the age of 13. A child murderer.

So why didn't he kill you?

Years past and yet you still ask this. Were you special in some way where he decided to spare you?

You snicker, probably not... though it doesn't answer my question.

He had found out about your life in the waking world when you were 14, breaking down as soon as you woke up in his realm. It had been because your father genuinely looked like he was about to hit you, so pent up in rage it's image was scarred into your memory.

They had never tried to hit you before.

It was the first and only time (so far) that Freddy had seen you in such a weak state. You hadn't let it happen again, regaining your lost composure.

You went into the kitchen, grabbing a granola bar before silently running upstairs.

You evening consisted of studying and homework, eating the granola bar as soon as you sat down.

You fell asleep late, exhausted, and hungry (by the fact you missed dinner, knowing they'd be downstairs.)

"Wakey wakey, sugar-tits."

"That's a new one, when'd you think of that?" You roll your eyes as you get up off the ground.

Freddy watches you amused from where he stood. "You look more mentally drained than usual." He comments.

"Yeah, no shit. My parents are fighting again. And I had to deal with school." You let out a groan, sinking down onto a white wooden bench. He sat next to you, fedora tilted down to shadow his eyes.

To say you had gotten used to his appearance was an understatement. It felt natural to simply sit down and talk, like you two had always been.

You haven't been more comfortable around anyone else.

Which was a funny thing considering your friend was a killer.

You turned, laying back against Freddy with a sigh. "Can't wait to finally move out from their house."

You felt him chuckle, "why not let me kill them?"

"Because, I might be seen as a suspect. I'd rather move out, wait for a year, and maybe I'll ask you to kill them."

"Sure sure." He waved it off, slinging an arm around and layed it on your stomach casually.

You both stayed silent, and you had began to fall to a deeper slumber from your dream state, and he let you sleep the rest of the night dreamless.

•▪°○°▪•

You stood at your locker placing your binder and pencil case inside, and took out your small money purse and jacket from the metal box before closing and locking it.

You'd be getting yourself lunch today from a café close by. Knowing you have enough to buy yourself a small muffin too.

You slipping on the jacket; you walked outside, humming a melody you had heard in your dreams. You're sure it was from the little kids you saw every once and a while sing it.

It was actually very catchy.

You were stopped by the gates of the school yard. Of course, (B/n) and her gang steps in to ruin your day.

"Hey there (Y/n)." She snickers, stepping into your personal space.

"What do you want?" You ask, eyes narrowing before continuing your hum quietly.

She holds a hand out, "you'd be owing us some food." She smirks, eyeing the small purse.

"I believe I don't." You mutter, stepping to the side, though she mirror's your action. "Sucks makeup isn't edible, then your inside' could be as "pretty" as the out." You snicker when her face goes red, frustrating her was always as fun.

You were pushed back, still snickering as you hit the ground, fortunate that the layer of snow numbed the fall.

"I don't owe you shit." You grin, eyes challenging her. Perhaps you should ask Freddy to... take care of her for you, after all she has been harassing he freshmen too. She deserves it.

And everyone dies, why not have her date a little closer?

She clicks her tongue, "whatever, you're probably broke as shit anyway."

You laugh again as she along with her proxies walk away back to the school, and you felt her glare at your back as you got up.

Brushing off your clothing you walked off, towards the café with a smug look. I'll definitely bring her up to Freddy... you mentally noted.

You entered the warm café, the warm fuzzy feeling pooled in your stomach. You felt more at home here than at your own house.

"Afternoon," you greet the older woman at the counter, she was the closes thing to a big sister for you. The best family member you could ask for, and she's not even related to you. "Sandwich and tea, please." You tell her, scanning the various flavours of muffins. "And one of those please." You add, pointing to the most appealing.

She chuckles, "what kind of sandwich do you want?"

You grin, "suprise me."

She shrugs with a smile, holding a hand out. "$12.53," she says, looking at the cash register.

You hand her fifteen, muttering a small, "keep the change."

She smiles at you gratefully, and turns to make your order. "How are your studies going? I've told you before you can always come to me for help." She says as she brews your tea.

You shrug, the place was empty other than a few other teens sitting at tables, eating or chatting away.

"It's alright." You answer, then continue; "I promise that I'd come to you for help, I just get a lot on my plate right now."

The 23 year old woman nods, adjusting her dark brown hair pulled up to a ponytail. You had already planned on asking if you could move in with her for a while before getting your own apartment. So you could get on your own two feet.

She passes you the tea over the counter, and you wait as she brings your sandwich and muffin.

"Thank you," you say with a small smile that she returns.

"No problem, your signature spot is still reserved over there." She pointed to the table with two chairs by the window.

You nod, walking over there with your lunch and sat down. Listening to the music from the small speaker in the café as you ate quietly.

After lunch you left the café with a farewell to your "big sister."

You continued with your classes through the afternoon, taking the chance to go to the library when school ended.

You didn't mind going home late, your parents didn't really notice unless they needed you to do something.

You went to a secluded table near the corner of the whole library. You studied, and when you were done you decided to read one if your favorite series of books.

Due to your lack of sleep, you must've fallen asleep cause you felt a familiar set of claw-like blades dancing along your back from where you were hunched on the table.

"Freddy." You mumble with a yawn.

"Falling asleep in the library now? Maybe you should hold back on the late-nights, sugar."

You raise your brows, both a smile and a smirk grow on your lips. "Is that concern I hear?"

You watch him roll his eyes, "don't let it get to your head." You laugh, which makes him grin with amusement. "I'm pretty serious though."

You hum with the nod if your head, "I've been wanting to ask of a favor from you."

"Oh?" His eyes get a mischievous gleam. "And that is...?"

"A small group of bullies at my school, I was hoping you could maybe get rid of their leader? (B/n)?" You smile, not one of pure happiness and innocence. "Seeing their leader dead will most likely have them scrambling." You hum in thought then add; "and if not, I hope you don't mind me asking for you to kill the rest of them?"

He let's out a chuckle, taking the seat next to you and crosses his legs. "What'll I get in return?" He hums, leaning closer and tapping his cheek.

You raise a brow, snickering. "Yeah yeah, okay. Do me that favor though?"

"As long as I can bring this "(B/n)" along with a friend of hers, I'll be letting the other one escape."

"To what? Spread your name?"

"That's exactly it." He replies, laying back. "You'll be there to confirm it." He smirks making your brows knit, and a small scowl grow.

"Your making me join in on whatever nightmare your making for them?"

"Aw sugar, you read me too well." He teases - or is it mock? Either way it has you rolling your eyes with your scowl loop to a grin.

"Fine, I'll go along with this plan of yours." You agree, "now can you wake me up before I get in trouble?"

"No problem, sugar. See you in your dreams."

•▪°○°▪•

You walked down the street, looking around for any sign of the two Freddy would be dragging into his dream realm.

You never really had someone else in your dreams other than Freddy. So it may be interesting for a change to experience it. A part of you was giddy, though another part was nerve-wracked. While the thought of being blamed for the weird occurrence was exciting, you did not want to be in huge trouble because of it.

"Freddy?" You call out, starting to get irked by the fact he nor anyone had shown up.

You heard a loud shriek from afar, your heart jumped and you ran towards the scream with adrenaline.

Even if you couldn't be so easily scared, you did for a fact enjoy seeing others scared.

You skidded to a stop as you turned at the sidewalk corner.

(B/n) stood there, petrified as bugs started to crawl up her legs from holes in the ground around her. Her friend stood a meter away, staring wide eyed at the scene.

You whistled, impressed, of course insects would work on someone like (B/n).

"(Y/n)?!" She screeched, "fucking help me!" She commanded, making you cross your arms with a smirk.

"Awh, (B/n) don't you remember what happened erlier today?" You reminded her, almost jumping when a snake was placed around your shoulders. It's face moved infront of yours, peering at you with curious eyes before its tongue slithered out to tickle your nose.

"Frederick." You acknowledge, feeling a hand press to the small of your back, though you didn't move your eyes from the fact (B/n) hasn't stopped staring at the bugs.

Another shrill scream left her lips as she tried to shake the bugs off, jumping up and down.

"Why are you doing this?!" Her friend cried out to you and your companion.

"I'm not the one who's causing it, deary." You smile bitterly.

Freddy moves from your side to them, circling them like a shark. A low and dangerous chuckle left his mouth, tipping his fedora.

And in a quick blink, he vanished.

"One, two, Freddy's coming for you."

Oh dear, here he goes again. You smile with a chuckle, the tune was far too familiar to you.

Two girls skip out from the front yard of a decaying house.

"Three, four, better lock your door." Instead now they began to skip around the two, their faces were blank.

"Five, six, grab a crucifix."

You pet the snake around your neck, waiting in enjoyment as fear flooded of their forms.

"Seven, eight, you better stay awake."

They giggled before continuing, the cement around (B/n)'s feet began to crumble away. Her incoherent yelling was silenced when centipedes crawled into her mouth. You saw her friend gag, trying not to throw up.

"Nine, ten, Freddy's back again."

She let out a loud scream, the ground decaying under her feet and she fell down into the darkness. Her screams echoing until the ground regenerated itself.

The bugs melted into a thick substance, pooling together.

"Would you look at that..." You were grateful that Freddy hadn't killed her in a gory mess infront of you. You walk up to (B/n)'s friend, crouching down infront of her.

"Tell them Freddy Krueger is back in town, will you?" You booped her nose, looking up at Freddy who crouches behind her.

She turns her head back slowly, eyes wide with fear as Freddy leaves a deep cut into her arm with his claw.

A dark laugh left his lips when she screamed, scrambling away. So with the snap of his fingers, she disappears in a cloud of smoke. What you guessed was she went back to the waking world.

You stood up after placing the snake on the ground, letting it slither off into the fog.

"That went more smoothly than I expected." You commented with a grin, sparing a glance at Freddy.

"All planned, sugar tits." He replies, turning you to him. "Wheres the trade, hm?"

You roll your eyes, "yeah yeah, a deal's a deal." You peck him on he cheek, grinning when you didn't miss the slight disappointment that flashed in his eyes. "Somethin' wrong, Freddy?" You played coy.

"Damn fucking tease."

You laughed, not expecting those words. "Indeed I am... though I thought you'd know that by now." You hum, "deal's a deal, what do I get if I do that?"

"The enjoyment." He grumbles, grabbing your collar and pulled your lips to his.

You snickered into the kiss, he wasn't entirely wrong.

•▪°○°▪•

You walked through the school yard, glancing at your watch. You were on time, had some minutes to spare too.

"You!"

You blinked, turning around 180 degrees and stared at the accusatory finger of (B/n)'s friend. The familiar face you saw in your dream stared at you in horror and clear fear.

"What was that?! (B/n) is dead." She said, far to loud than necessary.

You raise a brow, faking a frown. "Is... is that so? I apologize for your loss."

Her brows knit, "no... you were there, in my dream with her and that - that Freddy guy!"

Your face contorted to confusion, "I was in your dream?"

"Yes!"

"I'm pretty sure dreams can't be shared," you start your lie, "and plus, I don't remember dreaming at all last night."

From how her face changes, you could already hear the sounds of Freddy's laughter as you try to hold hers in.

"Then Freddy! Who's Freddy?! It was his fault then!" She bursts, stomping towards you.

"Look... I think you're being a bit loud on this," you glance around at the various students who stared. "I don't know who this "Freddy" is, perhaps try and search him up?"

Her face goes red, and you weren't sure if it was from embarrassment or anger, but she walks away, muttering under her breath with clenched fists.

You were far to amused, and the rest of your day was unbothered.

•▪°○°▪•

"I should thank you," you smiled genuinely, toying with the glove he treasured so much. "It worked out perfectly."

"All planned," he grinned leaning back against the couch cushions.

"Mhmm... all planned, you sure?" You nudge his arm, slipping the glove onto your own hand.

"You think I don't always plan ahead?" He raises a brow, tipping his fedora and turned your head to face him.

"Oh, I'm sure you did." You chuckle, before your lips could touch, you grabbed his fedora and jumped off the couch. Placing it on your head and snickered at his expression, taking him aback.

"Where is the fun if there's no real chase?" You smile wide.

•▪°○°▪•

Thanks for reading if you did -Charlie

#Freddy Krueger #Freddy Krueger x reader #Freddy Krueger imagines #Freddy is a disgusting man #nightmare on elm street #slasher #slasher x reader #slasher imagines