Nothing more fun than hearing a co-worker say I will be a specially terrible engineer because I'll be a "woman-engineer". I need to get out of here.

Finding Him

AU!Dean x Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping/taken, angst, mentions/implications of rape, mentions of blood, gruesome I think, maybe. (If I need more warnings, I’ll add them. Not sure what I need for warnings right now) I would recommend to being at least 18 to be safe.

Summary: Dean doesn’t come home from a supply run. Sam and the Reader find the Impala, but no Dean. Who would take Dean? Why? Clock’s ticking.

Word count: 2,400-ish

a/n: Inspired by a fic called Lost by @talesmaniac89​, only I switched the roles and the whole premise of the story in comparison.

Finding Him Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

~

His vision blackened by the dark hood that covered his head.

“See boss, I found him, one of the Winchester boys.” A male voice says. As if he were expecting a prize.

“Yes, I see that, you were also to get his little brother you nitwit!” another man shouted.

Dean could hear growls in the distance. Meaning he was dealing with more than just one monster. Also, what kind of monster?

“But doing this draws out his brother. Once he is out and about, I’ll get him.”

“You better, but watch out for his mate. I hear she’s feisty.”

Y/N, they knew her as well. But she was only with the brothers for, not even, 6 months now.

“Why again are we doing this? Why don’t we just swarm their base now? I mean, we can use his scent to lead us there.” A female voice was heard this time. She sounded rather annoyed by the whole situation.

“Because, it’s her I want.”

“Why?”

“She’s a half-breed. First of our kind. Her mother was human. They say half-breeds are weaker than their pure bred counterpart. But I beg to fucking differ!” the boss man got furious at a memory.

Y/N’s a what? Dean thought. He could only huff against the gag in his mouth that was tapped in by duct tape. His hands were bound by all kinds of bindings. Rope, tape and even chains. These werewolves took precautions to prevent Dean from escaping or fighting back.

Y/N must have done something to piss this guy off. He thought.

“Just bring the other Winchester, Lure this bitch out. I want her now!”

 “Sam, I found the impala but no Dean.” She said into the phone.

“Store clerk said no one was following him in the store. So it must have happened outside of the store on the way home.”

“I don’t like this Sam, who would take him and why?”

“I don’t know. Come swing by, pick me up and I’ll drive Dean’s baby home.”

“Sure thing, then we’ll get hunting for your brother.”

She hung up the phone. She could smell it. It’s faint but it’s werewolf. Maybe it’s time to come clean about her lineage to Sam. It might help in finding Dean.

 “So you’re a half breed. Half human, half werewolf? How’s that possible?” Sam asked. Not a hint of malice in his words, no hint of anger or hostility in his body language.

“My mom was human. My dad was an alpha werewolf. But my mom died giving birth to me. I never really had a mother. But there’s this other pack, my dad went rogue on them when they started killing humans. He’d kill his own members to save humans.” She explained.

“Your dad sounds like a good man.”

“He was. Then his alpha found us. Tried to take me. He fought back. Or, tried to. I managed to get away. But in the woods I could smell my dad’s blood. He kill him. I’m more than sure, he’s the one that took Dean. He’s trying to lure me out.”

“He really shouldn’t underestimate the Winchester way of doing things.”

“What do you have in mind, I do see those wheels in your head turning?” she asked.

“We’ll need Cas’s help. I’ll even see if Bobby or any of the apocalypse hunters are up for some fuckery.”

She smiled, what does this guy have in mind, must be awesome.

 Weeks pass.

Sure he’d feed Dean, give him water even. But the alpha has a plan. And it’s not a great one.

He’s building an army.

“It’s my daughter, Alpha. She’s presenting, and I feel she is suitable for bearing a half breed.” Said a woman behind the door.

“Once she is fully presented, we’ll put him to work. And soon she will bear a half breed. Because if that bitch won’t come to me, we’ll come to her, with an army to boot.”

Dean swallowed thickly.

Already several scared girls had come in, he was forced to impregnate these girls. In hopes of making werewolves just like y/n.

He’s not dumb, half breeds are not as weak as people or other monster claim them to be. Because of their human counterparts, they don’t give up.

“How many have we made so far boss?” the same wolf that kidnapped Dean asked.

“9. Nine half breeds. And 5 of us. Two omegas, one beta, and two alphas. The half breeds don’t even need to present. That’s the thing we need to research further.”

“I’m sure our doctors in the sandy hills would love to look at them, and this girl of yours.”

“I’m sure. But, she’s mine. Mine to tame, mine alone. I’ll make an omega out of her.”

“You want to see what offspring you and her would produce?” he asked. Seeing his masterplan now.

“We need an army. Those British hunters already got the drop on us and have killed most of ours. But now, with us being mostly half breeds. We’ll see how much of a match we are to them.”

“Impervious to silver. But they’ll die like any normal human.”

“Maybe so. But we’ll train them in combat. We will win this.”

His comrade nodded.

 A low growl could be heard from y/n as she paced the library.

“Weeks Sam, it has been weeks. We need to find him.”

“I know, Bobby’s trying to round up everyone.”

“I can feel them doing something to him, it’s not good. We need to hurry.”

“Like what?”

“I can’t describe it without making you feel uncomfortable. But it’s not good. Let’s just put it at that.”

Sam’s phone rang. Caller ID, Bobby.

“Hey, Bobby, whatchyou got?”

“Sam, bring your girl and come to our hide out. It’s getting bad out there.”

“Bad, bad how?”

“We’re out numbered. The amount of werewolves is growing. More than what we can keep up with.”

“Okay, we’ll pack what we can and meet you out there.”

Sam hung up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Their numbers are growing.”

“I told you it was bad.”

“What are you saying?”

“He’s making an army of half breeds. Like me. And he’s using Dean to help in that process.”

“You mean, he’s forcing these wolf girls to rape my brother?” Sam asks, growing sickened and angry.

“Yes. Which is why we need to hurry. Let’s just go where we need to go. I’ll tell you what we can do to win.”

 “Great, not only are you like a human, but impervious to silver. So our bullets and knives won’t kill you.” One of the male apocalypse hunters fumed.

“So how do we kill them?” Meg asks.

“Just like how you’d kill any human. An ordinary weapon. But don’t injure them. Or Don’t waste time on the kill. They…we can heal quickly.”

“You have to have some kind of weakness.” Bobby says.

“Well, we’re not totally impervious to silver. I learned that the hard way from you hunters.” She says. “Just before I met Sam and Dean, I ran into a hunter. He learned of what I was. And tried to kill me. His silver blade slashed my arm. I had this nasty looking infection. But really it was poison.”

“Dean brought you back, and we healed you up.” Sam added. She nodded with a sad smile.

“That’s why you didn’t tell us. You were afraid we’d do that to you.” Sam says. She cast her gaze to her feet, fiddling her hands at her waistline. She felt Sam’s hand at her cheek. Coaxing her to look up at him.

“You had our backs, you saved Dean from shifters and wendigos. You saved me from vamps and werewolves. Cas from angels. Hell, even our own mother from a number of monsters. We wouldn’t have hurt you darlin’.”

“When he saved me, Dean. I imprinted on him.”

“How’d you…”

“I’m not sure. He felt safe. I felt safe. It was after he saved me, I’ve been able to feel what he feels. Know exactly where he was. Or is. Some say imprinting anyone, a wolf or human, is done by sex. But we didn’t do anything. He just held me. Safe in his arms.” She explained.

“Could be that. Could be a soul thing.” Bobby says. “Soulmates.”

Sam and Y/N nodded.

A moment passed. Y/N shook her head out of her thoughts.

“We need to get Dean back before the Alpha kills him. When he deems Dean no longer useful. I can, feel him. He does feel far. But I’m sure I can find him.”

“Well, let’s do this. Bobby, you, and the hunters try to get their numbers down. Kill as many as you can. Y/N and I will get Dean out of there. Then after—”

“I’m killing that Alpha, once and for all. More lives are in danger with him alive.” She growled.

Sam could only nod.

 A shot rang out.

“All the guards outside are half breeds. Aim for the head.” She ordered the hunters that came along.

Shot after shot rang out.

She took in their scent. They weren’t that old, freshly presented. She stared at them in confusion. Half breeds don’t present. Unless a certain gene allows them to present or not enough research went into half breeds.

“Sam, you and I we need to move in. now.” She ordered. Sam nodded.

“Keep them from entering.” She told the hunters.

“Sam, let’s go!”

And they ran their way inside.

 “Get the human!” the alpha ordered.

Dean, looking a bit rough from weeks and weeks of rough sex, little food and water and no sleep. The wolf picked him up by the collar, Dean grunted against the motion as his hands were bound behind his back since the day they brought him in here. His wrists have been cut up and bloodied from his struggles.

“I’d be happy to rip his heart out for ya boss.” He sneered.

“NO!” The alpha shouted.

The wolf shuddered.

“He’s mine.”

He threw Dean at the Alpha’s side.

Dean landed on his side with a hard thud and grunt. He was too weak to play the tough guy. Too weak to give a witty comeback.

He just laid there, waiting for his death.

 Sam, preoccupied by other wolves in the warehouse as Y/N walked into the Alpha’s Domaine. His den, his ‘Throne Room’. He stood on a balcony meant for loading large machinery. It had no railing on one side.

She could smell his blood. Causing a growl to emerge deep within her chest. Her fists clench so hard she could draw blood.

“There she is.” The alpha growled.

“Here I am. Do you want to end this or should I?” she asked. Glaring down at him.

“You dare talk like that to your Alpha?” he growled.

“You are not my alpha, I’m no one’s alpha. You are a murderer.”

“Now, I’d beg to differ on that. You killed your own kind.”

“I have two kinds. Human and wolf. Humans seem a lot better than you.”

He growled at her remark.

“You mean, like this human!” he pulls Dean up by the collar. His sheer strength alone allowed him to hold Dean in the air, hanging him by his collar. He hung him over the ledge with no railing. Intending on letting him either hang to his death or drop him.

Her heart dropped.

Dean kicked, trying to get free. He began gagging for air.

“He’s weak, just like your father was. Your father was infatuated with a human and it weakened him. He was my right hand man!” he shouted.

She tried to keep a good poker face going. But Dean’s eyes began to roll as he was loosing more and more air.

“You are just like him. Infatuated with a human.”

“Let him go.” She says. Demanding.

The Alpha cocked his head, cocking an eyebrow, smirking. Oh, she thinks she’s going to have it easy. He thought.

“Please, I’ll turn myself over to you willingly. But you have to let him go. Alive!” she demanded.

“Hmm, such a tempting offer.” The Alpha says playfully. “But, no. I think I’ll pass.” He says.

He repositions Dean so he could easily wrap his hand around his throat. She could tell he was squeezing the life out of him, he kicked furiously, desperately trying to get free.

I hope this will work. She thought.

She darts, climbing up a stack of crates leading up to the platform.

She managed to get on the platform without him noticing. She could see the color to Dean’s face changing. His eyes rolling.

A fire burned in her eyes. He’s not going to take him from her.

With her claws now drawn, she forces her hand through the Alpha’s back and through his chest.

He can see what looks like silver nails on her claws.

The impact causes him to drop Dean.

He drops on to his back with a hard thud.

The Alpha gags as the poison from the polish is coursing through his veins.

“You really should have taken the deal.” She says. Pulling her hand from his back the Alpha drops dead with a thud. On the concrete ground below.

“Dean!” she gasps. Seeing him not moving.

She rushes to him, cutting him free. She brings her ear to his mouth. He’s not breathing.

“No, no, no. Dean, please.” She begs.

She works him over her shoulder as she get’s him to a more flat surface.

“Dean!” she heard Sam shout.

She laid Dean flat on his back and began doing chest compressions.

“Sam, Bobby, we need to get him help.” She begs as she worked on him.

“Cas!” Sam prays out loud. “Cas, if you hear me please, we need you to save him!”

“Cas!” she adds on. “Please, I can’t lose him!”

“Sam, Y/N.” Cas says behind her.

“Cas, help him.” She begs. Her eyes blurring with tears.

“I will try.” He says.

He places two fingers to his forehead. Only to see limited injuries healed. But Dean took in a deep, much needed, breath.

Cas falls back, weakened.

“I do not have enough grace to heal him completely. My grace has been depleting lately. Once I am fully regenerated, I’ll heal him again.” Cas says.

“Thanks Cas, it’s something.” Y/N says. “Let’s get him home.”

 ~

Part 2

What’d you think? Want more? Let me know either by ask or reblog. Remember, feedback is fuel.

~

Dean Girls:

@pandazombie69​, @luci-in-trenchcoats​, @supernatural-jackles​, @becs-bunker​, @jayankles​, @mlovesstories​, @winchesters-favorite-girl​, @akshi8278​

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 2/8/2021

Coincidence | skz

Chan x Reader

producer!chan x reader

Summary: This wasn’t exactly how you expected to meet the producer of your first comeback song, but...

Genre: fluff; idol!chan, producer!chan, idol!reader (solo)

Word Count: 2k words

Warnings: A few swear words but that’s about it.

________________________________________________________________

     You are late. You are so damn late. It is your first day being tasked with working with a new producer at your company. A producer who will be helping you with a few of your new songs for your first comeback. You have never personally met him, but you have heard many things about him. One thing you know for sure though is that everyone has told you this guy does not like to wait around and you are so fucking late. 

You were so busy preparing your schedule for all of the upcoming shoots and recording sessions last night that you passed out at your desk during the early hours of the morning. Only to find that you had forgotten in the midst of things to set your alarm for your 11 o’clock meeting with your new producer Bang Chan. When you woke up at 12 o’clock and had 17 missed calls from your manager you knew you were screwed. So, while muttering every prayer you could think of so that you wouldn’t be fired on the spot, you did everything you could to speed run your morning routine to make it to the recording studio while your producer was hopefully still there.

After haphazardly putting yourself together trying to rush to your car you realized you hadn’t brought yourself anything to eat and you had definitely missed breakfast. After mulling over the pros and cons you decided fuck it and made a right turn to head toward the nearest Starbucks knowing recording sessions for hours without food would probably only piss your new producer off. Besides, you were already late and you had heard he liked coffee. Hopefully getting him some on the way would be enough to forgive you.

After ordering your favorite drink, snack, and something for Bang Chan too you walked out of the small restaurant as quickly as possible. As you opened the doors to the cool air, you took a moment to breathe and collect yourself. You felt almost peaceful for the first time this morning before a sudden shout could be heard from behind you that was getting increasingly louder. 

“Hey! HEY!!! That’s my car!” You watched in awe as the young man who was just behind you shoved you aside, made you spill the drinks you were holding, and continued on without even stopping to look at you as he saw the truck pulling away with his car attached. Fuming, you continued to watch with clenched teeth as he cursed and pulled out his phone from a black bag on his shoulder. You looked down at your now ruined white dress shirt and sighed, running your hands through your hair. Picking up one of the soiled cups in a tight fist you clenched your jaw and began to march your way up to the perpetrator.

“Hey! Who do you think you are, huh? I get you’re in distress but watch where you’re going!!” You yell as you wave your now empty cup and point at your ruined shirt. He groans as he turns around to face you. His eyes widen as he stares down at you. Your breath quickly gets caught in your throat as you choke down any further complaints. Once you get a good look at his face you almost completely forget about your anger. He’s gorgeous.

Right as you remember why you’re standing there and that you should be on your way to the studio right now you notice his expression change. He narrows his eyes at you and licks his lips before turning around to completely ignore you and walk away while muttering something to his phone that sounds awfully like “Felix, how am I supposed to get to the studio now?” And “that meeting was supposed to be an hour and a half ago!”

You feel the anger slowly leaving your body as you realize he probably is extremely frustrated and didn’t mean to bump into like that. You bite your lip as you contemplate what to do next. Taking a few cautious steps forward you try to listen for a break in his conversation to say something to him when he suddenly sighs deeply and says “I guess I’ll just take a cab..”

He then drops his phone into his bag quickly to haphazardly run his hands through his hair. While you’re watching and waiting tentatively to speak you barely catch him whisper, “Shit, I don’t have enough money on me for a cab all the way to JYP.” Suddenly, you have an idea. You slowly walk up to him so as to not startle him and gently tap on his shoulder.

“Hey. I’m sorry for yelling at you before. Uhm.. you sound like you’re heading for JYP? I have a proposition for you..” He slowly begins to lower his hands and brings his eyes up to meet yours. One you’re making eye contact you find it hard to elaborate. He then tilts his head with a subtle eyebrow raise to urge you to continue. “You got your car towed and need a ride. You then spilt my coffee on me. We both seem to be running late, and I have a car, but no money. How about if you agree to buy me two new cups of coffee then I will give you a ride to JYP myself! Free of charge!” You say with as bright a smile as you could muster. 

He watches you for a moment, taking in how you’re fiddling with the empty cup and shifting your weight on your feet in an anxious manner. It wasn’t until you began looking away and awkwardly coughing that he realized he hadn’t spoken yet. He slowly begins to smile and says, “I don’t even know you. You could be a murderer.��� You slowly lose your smile as your cheeks begin to go red and your ears begin to feel hot.

“You’re the one who spilled my drink on me! I just thought you could use some help today!! Besides we both work for the same company so ugh!!” You speak quickly, embarrassing yourself further. He chuckles to himself, now noticing how cute you look flustered. Once you collect yourself enough to start thinking about retracting your offer he cuts you off.

“So, what coffee will it be?”

A few minutes later you two are standing silently in line for your new coffee. After a few minutes he looks at you sheepishly. “I’m really sorry about your shirt and about wasting your time here today, but I really appreciate this.” You smile as he rubs the back of his neck and tell him he doesn’t need to be sorry. Right as you two begin to silently stare at each other you both startle when you hear someone yell.

“Bang Chan!”

You immediately jump into action looking in every direction and tucking into yourself as much as possible as to not be noticed by the probably more than annoyed, old, cranky, not to be messed with, new producer you were supposed to be working with. Almost simultaneously though, the got-his-car-towed boy swiftly walks up to the counter and takes the drinks being held out to him by the barista. Your arms fall limp to your sides as your jaw goes slightly slack in shock. Surely there can be two Bang Chan’s in Korea right? This definitely isn’t the guy who’s producing your new comeback album...right?

The guy (Chan?) walks back over to you and smiles. “So, I guess you owe me a ride.”

“I guess I do.” You say slowly. Coming to the realization you probably don’t want to ask if your assumption is correct for a multitude of reasons, you put on your best smile. Quickly you pull your keys out and nod your head in the direction of your car. “Let’s go.”

The beginning of the ride was uneventful enough. Just even silence that felt comfortable until Chan (?) started fidgeting. Taking this as a sign of discomfort you decided to break the ice. “So, uh, are you okay? It seemed like you were having a pretty eventful day back there.” You smile kindly.

“Oh! I almost completely forgot about that. I’m sorry again by the way!” He says while turning to look at your face in a cutely curious way. “By the way,” he says nervously rubbing the back of his neck, “I never did catch your name..”

“Ah. I’m sorry! I completely forgot about introducing myself. Today has been pretty hectic.” you say thoughtfully and with a breathy laugh. “My name is y/n.”

“That’s a really pretty name! And I’m sorry your day has been bad. My name is Bang Chan. Most people just call me Chan though.” He stops for a moment, pondering. “I know you said you work with JYP and you do seem kind of familiar.. What is it that you do??”

You feel your heartbeat slow down in your chest. It’s now or never to test your hunch. You smile nervously. “I’m a new artist. I was supposed to be there a few hours ago for a meeting with a new producer, but I ended up super late and then a pretty boy ended up knocking my apology coffee all over me. I hope he’s not going to be too mad at me..” You trail off at the end hoping regardless of who producer Chan may be that they aren’t angry with your absence of punctuality.

“Really?! That’s cool!” He pauses, “not the being late, me spilling coffee all over you, and him being mad at you but the other stuff.” He takes another pause to chuckle nervously. “I am actually a producer with JYP, but I was running late this morning after a few nights of some extensive work because I was supposed to meet with a new idol on their comeback album this morning. I never made it and my laptop with my work and their contact information was in my car when it got towed.” He purses his lips. “I hope they didn’t get the wrong impression. I was super excited to work with them after hearing their samples.”

At this point you’re having a hard time breathing. You bite your lip and try not to seem as shocked as you are. “I’m sure they will understand completely as soon as you contact them. Also I hope the stuff with your car goes well..” you say with a smile that seems forced even to you.

He smiles back regardless. “And I hope the stuff with your producer goes well. Though I’m sure he won’t be mad after he gets this coffee, this is my favorite too!” He says with a laugh. You assume he was just trying to keep lighthearted conversation. You begin to let your thoughts drift as you near your destination and see Chan gathering his things.

So this is Bang Chan. You assumed he would be older, meaner, more gruff and straight to the point, but he was kind, warm, happy, and everything producers usually never are. You sincerely hope you won’t miss your next recording session with him. It didn’t hurt that he wasn’t the ugliest either.

After you park and get out of the car Chan insists on walking you to the studio door. Once you’re there he stops and turns to you, handing you the coffees with a big smile. “Thank you so much for today. I really appreciate it and have enjoyed talking with you a lot today. I don’t know how I could repay you.”

You look at him and slowly grin, “No need to repay me. Your company and the coffee is good enough for me!” You giggle shortly and look up at him brightly, “I guess it’s time to get to work now. I’ll be seeing you around.” You laugh as you say this. He doesn’t know why. Mentally he’s already thinking of the ways he’s going to get to work as he smiles at you. Slowly he turns to walk away as you walk through the studio door. He’s just about completely lost in thought before he freezes in the middle of the hallway. He slowly begins to grin to himself as he turns back to look at the door again.

He rushes back up to the door, laughing as he realizes it was his studio you just entered. He takes a breath and pauses before entering himself as he thinks about what you said earlier, realizing you had pieced it together quicker than him. He chuckles softly as he turns the door knob and finds himself giddy at the idea of his favorite coffee and a recording session with someone he hopes will be a new, reoccurring coincidence in his life.

—••—

Authors Note:

Hello few people who are going to see this! This is my first ever published fic and I hope you enjoy it!

I may not post much very quickly on this blog, but I do hope to be able to post some fics in my spare time. Hopefully giving back to the community like this will bring a smile to someone’s face! :)

Taglist: @elcie-chxn (a big thank you to this sweetie 🥺)

I really love your writing and I'm really happy that requests are open again!! 😭 Could you maybe write a part 2 to Strip Yourself (Hacker x reader fic) where the hacker and reader somehow meet again (like maybe the reader surprisingly tracks him down) and get together? Thank you!!

The Hacker x Reader- Strip Yourself Part 2

Part 1 HERE

Drinks were being passed on tables along with the money that flew on the stage by high heeled shoes, the girls dancing and twirling on the poles, music blasting accompanied by neon lights, creating the perfect nightlife atmosphere.

Night in New York never changed and neither did the masked man's life as he leaned on the bar, observing a brunette dressed in leopard lingerie. The Hacker bite his lower lip behind the mask as he ogled the woman, she had nice assets and eyes that he would love to see roll inside her head; by sex or murder, he could care less.

It was another Friday night, spending money on drinks and women because the next day he will get the cashback. Tonight he just finished another deal with a pretentious prick who wanted certain films.

The sick freak had some weird fetishes, but who was the Hacker to judge, after all, he wasn't any better.

"I see you looking at her. Gonna taker her in the back later?" the bartender, who the Hacker got pretty aquatinted with spoke with a chuckle.

"Maybe." The Hacker hummed, swirling the liquor in his glass.

He debated if he should just take her for a quick blowjob, when a happy cheer caught his attention, gaze moving from where the sound came. It was one of the veteran strippers, Vivian and she was hugging someone.

When she pulled away, grey eyes widened behind the blue neon lightened mask, gulping down as he took in your form.

It's been what? One year?

He had to admit you changed, but in a good way, hair and clothes are all nicely done and clean put together like a doll in his opinion. The bartender noticed the Hacker stare and nudged his shoulder.

"I never pictured you the type to go for business woman." the male snickered, but the Hacker didn't mind him that much, because all his attention was to you.

It's been a year since you left, quit the job as a stripper, and crawled your way up to be a respectable female in society, although you didn't saw yourself as some prize, never one to judge someone, because you knew what it meant to swallow your pride to get to where you were now.

Vivian felt like someone was starring at you two, so she turned around seeing the masked male, then moved her gaze back to you.

"You wanna talk to him?" she asked in your ear and you swallowed down.

You decided to visit Vivian since you two haven't talked for a long time, but you never pictured that you would meet him, after one year. The man who helped you the most.

"I kind of want to." you muttered, a little nervous, but you weren't going to act like you didn't notice him.

You weren't a coward and since you worked into the financial business you learned that cowardice is seen as a prime weakness and if the sharks in black suits notice, you will be most likely eaten alive.

So, take a deep breath you walked with her to the bar, ordering yourself a drink, while Vivian began to chat with the bartender.

"Hey." you finally said, your eyes looking at the Hacker, who has his mask turned to you.

"Hey, doll."

His voice was bitter like definitely not excited to see you after you left without a word or goodbye.

"Back again?" he broke the silence.

"More like visiting. I worked here almost all my life in college." you answered, taking a sip of your drink as it arrived.

"I know."

Of course, he knew, he was your top client, always tipping you the most, buying you gifts and attentions, showering you in compliments, and the only one who got privates shows with finalization, not that you were proud of it.

"I see you wormed yourself up on the scale in society. I guess all the hard work in college paid well." he spoke again, his tone arrogant and aggressive like.

"You want to talk about this now?" you spoke with confidence, not letting him get to you.

"What's the point? You left one year ago without a word, doll." he shot back, making you feel like you were the culprit here.

"You act like we were together. I told you from the beginning that when college is over so is this place." you clarified him, brows pushed into a frown.

He snorted behind the mask, then got up, walking away from you and towards the back door of the club where the alleyway was.

Before you would have let it go, forget about it, but you ended up being someone who wasn't going to take silence and walking away as an answer. You got up from the barstool and stalked after the male, getting out and catching his wrists before he could take another step.

"Will you stop acting so childish?" you snarked, making him stop.

"I am? Look who's talking. At last, you could have to say goodbye!" he shot back, tugging his wrist away, taking a step towards you, making you take one back.

Silence.

You had no comeback to that. Indeed, you had left, disappearing like a ghost, not even bothering to leave a message.

"That's what I thought. You know....You are no different from the sluts inside. You just have more clothes on, but you are all the same. Choking on my cock." he said in a calm and deadly voice, you could hear the smirk in his tone.

"I-I...Never..." you shuttered over your words, blushing at what he said.

"You never what?" he asked, backing you into the wall of an alleyway.

His masked face inched closer, the plastic brushing against your cheek and ear.

"Do I need to remind you of everything? That time you sucked my cock? When I fingered you? When I pounded you from behind like bitch? Each time I made you squirt?"

He was humiliating you, reminding you that you were no prude, you couldn't stick your nose in the air, because you were no better.

"It was the past." your replied, making him chuckle in amusement.

"That's your comeback?" he asked, grey eyes moving from your wide eyes and trembling lips down to your neck, noticing something underneath the white button-up blouse.

Gloved fingers moved to unbutton the first ones at the collar and you were ready to push him away, but his other hand pushed your shoulder roughly back against the wall.

"Don't fucking move." he snarled into your ear, now that your cleavage was exposed his eyes ranked over the pink diamond.

He recognized it, the one he gave you during your times together and he snickered, making you gulp down.

"You couldn't forget about me, huh....Dollface." he whispered, gloved hands moving over your collarbone.

"T-That's not-" you were interrupted by a finger on your lips.

"I'm not stupid. Can I ask you something and be honest with me, because I hate liars. How many men made you squirt?"

You wanted so badly to punch him in the mask, crack that plastic. He was so obscene and how dare he ask something like that.

"Come on. Answer." he growled into your ear.

You were so ready to throw a fist, but you were cut off as a hand grasped the waistband of your panties underneath the black skirt, tugging the cotton material up between your pussy-lips.

A squeak left your lips, a deep blush crossing your cheeks as you looked up at him.

"Heh...That's what I thought." he snorted, then just like that he left, leaving you to slump down against the brick wall behind you, the sound of the engine of his car could be heard in the distance.

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

"You should forget about him, girl." Vivian said, the two of you having coffee and breakfast.

You twirled the spoon into your cold coffee, looking lost in your thoughts.

"Are you even listening to me?!" Vivian said with an exasperated face, making you look up at her lazily.

"Yeah..." your reply was as empty as you looked.

"You can literally have any man you want and you are mourning over a hooligan....a criminal must I remind you?" your friend said, but her words went deaf for you.

"Don't tell me that you haven't been with anyone since him...." she assumed with an unbelievable look in her eyes.

"Oh God, [Name]...." she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

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

After one month, things didn't get better for you, hearing from Vivian how many gets the Hacker got in a year, and even after the incident in the alleyway he wasn't any subtle, coming to the strip-club as nothing happened.

One time you were there and seeing him with a redhead going into the back, you had a pretty good idea what happened, especially when the girl came out with money in her panties.

He had no shame!

Vivian told you like a mother would: 'Told you.'

She suggested that you should let it go and enjoy yourself, don't let someone get you down. That's how she managed to get you into a black cocktail-dress that reminded you of your types working as a stripper, black and silver heels, make-up done perfectly, and your usual ponytail hair now in wild curls.

Tonight, Vivian was off work, but you were hanging out at the club, full of people drinking and dancing. You were having a good time, joking with Vivian and some of the other girls, men coming and leaving to talk with you.

"Girl. Look at that piece of cake." Vivian whispered into your ear, pointing to a man who was giving you a look-over, his eyes ranking over your body and lips pulled into a cheeky smile.

You had to admit he was good-looking and just like the stars were aligned, he moved off the red couch and waltzed to you.

"Hey, sweetcheeks. Couldn't help but saw you looking at me. Care to dance?" well he sure was bold and you smiled.

Why not?

Taking his hand you two walked to the dancefloor, Vivian giving you thumbs up. A new song started and you began to move along, hips swaying to the beat, back turned towards him, his hands running up and down your waist.

"You look absolutely delectable." the man whispered into your ear, making you giggle.

Although you were having a good time, someone across the room wasn't on the same page, because the glass of vodka he was holding cracked lightly a little as he squeezed around it.

The Hacker was fuming behind the mask at the scenario and if he had a gun at him he would have shot the asshole who was holding you, brain splattering onto the dancefloor.

He should be there dancing with you, grinding against your body and making you giggle like a school-girl.

The last straw was when the jerks hand moved to brush his fingers onto the pink necklace that HE gave you, said jerk-fingers brushing against your breast.

That's when the bomb exploded because he took big steps towards the two of you, gloved hand grasping your wrist and tugging you away from the man's embrace. You were ready to give a piece of your mind to whoever it was, but a scream of pain torn through the music and a satisfying crack resounded.

The Hacker punched the man straight in the nose, breaking it, but the guy had to fight and just as that hell broke loose, glasses been thrown, chairs flying by and people fighting.

You were moving along the bodies fighting, going for the exit. The cold air of the night hit your sweaty face. Eyes wide open you couldn't believe what happened. Vivian came after you, making sure you weren't injured.

After one hour everything calmed down, but the mess was irremediable. You were leaning against Vivian's car when a masked face caught your attention.

Normally you would have gone and given him a piece of your mind, about how stupid he can be, but his dislocated shoulder, blood-covered clothes, and the cracked mask made you pity him.

You took a step towards him, but Vivian stopped you.

"I will be fine. You go home." you told her, making her sigh, telling you to be careful.

You walked towards him with your arms crossed, observing him.

"Give me your car keys." you told him, snatching the keys out of his pocket and helping him move towards his car.

He didn't say anything as you got him into the passager seat and you into the driver one. The ride towards your house was quiet, no comments have been exchanged. Getting in, you laid him on the couch and got a first-aid kit.

"Get your hoodie off." you told him and he chuckled dryly.

"So straight-forward, doll." he joked, making you roll your eyes, but alas you helped him get the piece of clothing off, noticing the bruises forming. You managed to put his shoulder back into place, with a deep groan of pain from him.

You noticed blood coming from underneath his mask and you grasped to pull it off, but he stopped you.

"You're hurt and bleeding." you told him and he sighed, leaving your wrists.

You didn't expect him to look so....Devilish like? Maybe a bit too young for his age. You could swear that if he didn't have the stubble on he would look like in his middle 20s.

"Like what ya see, sugar?" He asked with a smug smirk, his busted lip bleeding more, but you stopped him, whipping it away.

"You are an idiot, you know? What were you thinking?" you asked with a glare, still continuing to patch him up.

"That scumbag was touching you." he whispered, grey eyes looking at you with a slight glare.

"It was consensual. Don't tell me you're jealous....God....We are not together." you explained, exasperated.

"I don't like it when people touch what's mine." he responded, making your heart flutter a little.

"You heard me, doll.....Don't tell me the feelings aren't the same." he spoke with a bitter voice, coughing a little.

Yup, his ribs were bruised.

"Erron....I-I do care about you. I cannot lie, I mean you helped me through the bad for almost 3 years and I never once thanked you." you admitted, your eyes moving from his torso, noticing for the first time the dragon tattoo on one of his peeks, meeting his grey eyes.

He smiled a real genuine smile.

"Then why do we act like we're enemies because I sure don't see you that way." he whispered, his bruised lips inching closer to yours until they slightly touched.

He hissed at the pain, hating that he couldn't kiss you deeply, taking your breath away.

"You're hurt." you said, pulling away.

"Hey...I've been stabbed and shot in the past and still could get a hard-on after." he augmented with a smirk.

You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

"You're so despicable." you said with a smirk.

"That's why you love me." he winked, groaning at how sore his muscles were.

"Rest now. You look like shit....I'm gonna make you something to eat." you told him, walking to the kitchen.

"Well, aren't you the sweetest, [Name]? I didn't know we were married."

"I hate you!" you yelled from the kitchen and he laughed.

"Love ya too, sugar!"

I know my hands are rough

A short n tender Dicktiger oneshot

“Don’t do that again. Don’t you ever do that again.”

Tiger sounds out of breath, even now, even though they’d stopped running for a good while. It’s hard to remember, in that moment, what it was they had been running from. The days and the perils seemed to blend together lately, as they both went on with not enough sleep and too much adrenaline.

It’s also difficult to remember much of anything with the pain clouding Dick’s mind. Dick is no stranger to pain, but most pain, anything but the deepest of wounds, inflicted on your soul more than your body, is easily forgotten. And so even though he’s felt it a thousand times, the sting of a cut, the throb of a bruise, the ache of a broken bone, it always feels like something new.

Dick is too tired to contain his hiss when Tiger cleans the nasty gouge on his side, the antiseptic soaked cloth burning like fire on his tender skin, fire he knows he’s really felt before but cannot dredge up more than a phantom of the sensation. He hurts too much to think of anything but the pain of right now.

“It’s a good thing we kept the first aid kit from that agent’s car,” Tiger says, mostly to himself. He’s fuming, positively livid. Anger seeps out of his pores and his eyes and his mouth and it washes over Dick like water on a duck’s back. He’s too tired to react. He’s too tired to figure out why Tiger is even angry right now— they got away, after all. They’ll live to fight another day. In fact, Tiger should be thanking him, because the man would probably be dead if Dick hadn’t jumped in front of that blade. All Dick really wants right now is to close his eyes and sleep, but he doesn’t because he knows if he does Tiger will slap him awake. “Because this is going to need stitches.”

He hears the second half of Tiger’s sentence as if it were spoken from a distance. He keeps his eyes locked on Tiger’s, and that’s okay, because Tiger’s eyes are focused on the wound on his torso, not on his face, so he can indulge in a little bit of gazing. He really can’t, for the life of him, figure out why Tiger is so angry.

Dick doesn’t realize he’d spoken this last thought out loud until Tiger responds.

“I am angry because if that knife had gone a single inch deeper, I wouldn’t be stitching you up, I would be burying your corpse.” Tiger glares down at the open first aid kit, rummaging through it more roughly than the plastics and paper packagings deserve. “You idiot— I call you an idiot often, because it’s always true, but I’ve never meant it more than I mean it now. Never do that again.”

Slowly, because everything he does right now is slow and sluggish, Dick blinks at him. He hopes Tiger digs some painkillers out of that abused little kit. “Why?”

Tiger’s gaze finally snaps up to meet Dick’s, quick as a speedster in contrast to Dick’s lethargic movements. He looks— the fog clears from Dick’s brain for a moment as he realizes that Tiger looks afraid. Wild eyed, like a mad man. Caught off guard, like he’s been found out. But what Dick’s apparently found him out for, he doesn’t know.

Tiger looks back down at his hands, shaking, unfathomably, around the packaging of a sterilized needle. He doesn’t say anything more. Dick frowns. Blood oozes sluggishly out his side. He should probably stop distracting Tiger from the task at hand.

“Hey,” he says instead of not distracting Tiger. “Hey. I don’ think I’ve ever seen you so unravelled. You okay?”

He means it both in an emotional and physical sense. Tiger’s shoulders are hunched, as supposed to his usual perfect posture that serves to make him appear even taller and even more intimidating. And his eyes are wide as if he were panicking, and his face is pale as if he were the one losing blood. He is, in all senses of the word, unravelled.

“No! Are you daft? Of course I’m not okay!” Tiger shouts suddenly, like the words are a mouthful of poison and he has to spit them out as violently as possible. He still isn’t looking Dick in the eye. “I can’t bury another friend!”

Dick doesn’t react the way he probably should. Because Dick has always been a brat. He smiles at Tiger, wide and teasing. “So you admit that we’re friends?”

For some reason, Dick had been expecting Tiger to respond with a roll of his eyes like he usually does when faced with this kind of phrase. At least Dick has the excuse of being a little bit out of it. But obviously, Tiger doesn’t react like that.

Instead, he snaps. He’s been at the end of his rope for a long time, and now the last frayed edges have been let go. Lost to the wind. He explodes.

“Yes! Damnit, yes!” He roars. He punches Dick’s thigh (which Tiger is crouched between, because Dick is propped up on the closed toilet seat in their shitty motel bathroom, and Tiger is kneeling on the tiled floor in front of him, which incites all different kinds of Thoughts, none of which are appropriate for this situation) like his body is lashing out of its own accord, and Dick’s thigh happens to be the closest punchable thing. (Ow, Dick mutters). “Yes, we are friends!”

Tiger’s voice is ragged as he goes on. Like he’s swallowed razor blades, choking on blood— except it’s not blood, it’s tears, and Dick is baffled, tears glistening in Tiger’s frantic, angry eyes.

“We’re friends! I hate that I let myself care this much, but I can’t change it now no matter how hard I try! So don’t you dare pull a stunt like that again! You can’t ever gamble with your life so carelessly— especially not for someone like me!”

He takes a deep breath. Looks back down, starts threading the needle. “You had better be on too many painkillers right now to remember this conversation later.” He grumbles.

“You didn’t give me any painkillers.” Dick doesn’t say he might be hopped up on too much plain old pain to remember this later. He hopes he remembers this.

“Fuck.” Tiger curses under his breath. He slumps, the fight finally leaving him, hours after the fight is over. His forehead connects with Dick’s knee and stays there. “Fuck.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Dick leans forward even as his carved up ribs scream in protest. He fights back a wince. Cups the sides of Tiger’s face and pulls his head up so he can look Tiger in the eyes when he says what he says next. His voice is as gentle as he can make it. “I care about you, too.”

“You shouldn’t.” Tiger answers immediately.

“But I do. And you can’t stop me. You should know by now I’m damn stubborn.”

“You are.” Tiger’s free hand comes up and his fingertips brush along the back of Dick’s hand, feather-light.

“Do you want me to just do this myself?” Dick reaches for the thread and needle in Tiger’s other hand, but Tiger pulls them out of reach.

“No. I will do it.” He whispers, “If I can do nothing else for you, I will do this.”

“You sap.” Dick smiles at him, and it’s all in his eyes. He feels like he might be glowing, with this smile. He might be getting delirious. “You’re here. I’m not alone on this hell mission thanks to you. What more could I ask of you?”

“You’re the sap.” It’s the most childish comeback Tiger has had to date, but his hands steady at Dick’s words.

The needle stings where Tiger sews his side shut.

Pain and love are alike in a lot of ways. Like pain, the physical sensation love brings you is not easily recalled after the fact. It always feels new.

Dick has certainly been in love before.

It still feels new, now.

Winchester Drabbles #5-7-87

Dean x Reader

A/N: A request from @spnhollis (I am SOOO Sorry this took so long, it was harder to write than I thought it would be). Prompts are bolded in the fic.

5, 7 & 87 a Dean x Reader pairing and as for a prompt I don’t really have one but could you possibly have it be inspired by TOOTIMETOOTIMETOOTIME By The 1975. If not just whatever you get inspiration from will be wonderful!

Warnings: angst

Words: 1279

Everything Tags: @his-paradox  //  @sorenmarie87  // @lefthologramdeer  //  @grace-for-sale  //  @redm81  // @becs-bunker  //  @docharleythegeekqueen  //  @moonchild-shoshanna // @idontfuckingknowgurl // @geeksareunique

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His cell phone burned hot in your hand, but it was your anger causing the heat. You tossed it absently on the bed as you stood, fuming, staring at the bathroom door. Dean had been in there showering when his phone went off three times in a row. Worried that his brother was in trouble, you grabbed it and saw the message preview on the screen.

Don’t press it, don’t do it… your mind warned, but you didn’t listen.

Five text messages from someone named Crystal. FIVE.

You didn’t click on each one, but you could tell by the message preview you saw, they weren’t just a friendly hello.

The water shut off in the bathroom, you could hear the shower curtain slide back and Dean humming some guitar riff. A moment later, the door opened, and he exited, wearing the bright blue towel around his waist and drying his hair with another smaller one.

“Hey, plenty of hot water left if you wanna jump in,” he smirked. “I’d be happy to wash your back,” he said with a wink, but his expression fell when he saw yours. No retorting smile, no snappy comeback; just you stood there with arms folded over your chest, incensed.

“Maybe Crystal could join you. She surely seems anxious to get ahold of you,” you spat, hurt and anger filling your expression.

Dean’s face scrunched up, confused. His cell phone started vibrating again from the bed and he suddenly understood. You grabbed it and threw it at him with just enough force so that it his chest with a thud before he forcibly caught it.

“Ow,” he groaned and quickly looked down at the screen. He sighed heavily when he saw how many messages Crystal sent, and carefully placed it on the dresser next to him. “Baby come on. She means nothing. She was an old hookup that…”

“That? That, what? Just decided to call you completely unprompted?”

Dean stammered and just shrugged. “Well, yeah, I mean, I can’t control the woman.”

“No, but you can control how much you reply,” you bit back, the fire that was burning in your gut had nearly engulfed you completely.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, alright? When we said we were gonna give this a shot, I ditched most of those numbers from my phone.”

“Most?”

“Yeah, most. Some I need, some are contacts for jobs that may come in handy in the future.”

“What could Crystal possibly assist you with other than a lap dance?”

Dean rolled his eyes and that was more frustrating than anything he’d said so far. “I swear, I haven’t seen her in months!”

“I’m such an idiot,” you mused and fell to the edge of the mattress. “I knew you were a flirt, and I knew you weren’t into this whole monogamy thing… yet, you batted those green eyes and flashed that damned smile and I fell for it. I swear, I just think it’d be best if we never met.”

“You really mean that?” he asked angrily. Dean’s brow furrowed deeply as he stalked to his bag on the other side of the bed. He started mumbling to himself and digging furiously for his change of clothes but stopped suddenly and looked back at you. “I certainly don’t think I’d have been better off not knowing you. But one random text from some girl, and you wanna forget everything?”

“One?! Dean, there were five sent in the span of a minute!”

“And?! Sweetheart, we just started down this road, you and I. Barely a week and you don’t think that sometimes my past won’t rear its ugly head!?”

Part of you knew he was right. Half of the anger was that you expected something like this to happen because you didn’t trust him. You didn’t want to trust him. As much as you wanted him around, you knew no matter what he wouldn’t stay. Trust issues ran deep within you, and despite your growing feelings for Dean, part of you knew you’d never fully be able to trust him.

Dean was something you dreamed about for a long time, but deep down you knew he wasn’t the kind of guy that could stay in one place for too long. On-again, off-again… pop in for a visit and a quickie—that was the Dean you knew. But after that pregnancy scare, he stuck around, and playing house with him was deceptively fun. So, when he suggested that maybe you make this something real, something permanent, how could you say no?

The phone vibrated again, Dean’s head fell, hanging chin to chest as he sighed deeply. He spoke again, but his voice was soft and hoarse. “Y/N, I can’t do this if there isn’t trust. We need to trust each other. In my line of work, trust is everything. So, whether it's working a job as my partner, or being my girlfriend, I need you to trust me.”

There was something in you that just didn’t know how. Too many broken promises in the past, too many heartbreaks. None were his fault, but as the phone continued to vibrate now with calls instead of text messages from Crystal, you slowly began to shake your head.

“You never loved me, did you?” he asked, “all of this was for what, then?”

“I thought… I wanted to. I want to love you, trust you, all of it. But… I—I don’t think I can.”

“Wow,” he chortled, his face contorting into frustrated defiance. “You know something? People say I’m the dick. That I’m the one who can’t commit and have a quote, unquote, real relationship. But here I am, trying. I thought I was the broken one. The one that was jaded and hellbent on never committing to anyone. Well, sweetheart, you’re almost as far gone as I am. No, actually, you are way worse than me.”

Dean violently tore the clothes from his bag and began getting dressed. He went about the room gathering his belongings and tossing them into the opened duffle.

“I’m worse?” you chuckled darkly and ran your hands through your hair. “Me?! How? How am I worse than you in that way?”

He froze for a moment, then slowly turned around to face you. Without a word, he went to the dresser and grabbed your phone, swiping up and bringing the dark screen to life. You watched curiously as he maneuvered through it to your text messages, then held up the screen for you to see.

Your heart sank when you realized he saw the recent texts from an ex-boyfriend. When you looked at him, he had one tear in his eye that was slowly rolling down his cheek. “You’re worse because you were hiding it. At least I owned up to it. I loved you. I wanted this to work. But I guess—” he stopped and chuckled to himself with a light shake of the head, “I guess I was the naïve one. Was bound to happen. But, I promise you, it’ll never happen again.”

Dean placed your phone back down on the dresser gently, and it flipped back to your home screen where there was a picture of you and Dean on it from the day you decided to be exclusive.

He brushed passed you, zipped up his duffel bag and headed for the bedroom door. Dean paused briefly in the doorway as if he was going to say something. But instead he just silently left the room and a moment later, you heard the front door close quietly.

It was your turn to be frozen in place as you tried to understand just what transpired. Dean Winchester was gone and this time, you knew it was for good.

•° In a tribe, 1270. °•

She's walking around the tribe, fulfilling her duty as a leader and making sure everything is going where it must be, pushing down every ounce of pain from the past month and letting life do its thing. Something like that.

"Mrs. Diana!"

She heard from her back. Oh god, what now?

"Hey! Um, how have you been?" The combatants' leader, Timothy, said with his best friend, Ben, at his heels.

"Um, could be worse," She replied truthfully, "how's the training going? Hopefully our little heroes are gaining their strength!"

"Oh, yeah, they're doing wonderfully! Big men, they are," He said, almost... Guardedly?

Her suspicions were answered when Tim started scratching the back of his neck and gave a quick glance at Ben, who hasn't spoken a word, Diana noticed.

"Um, are you free at the moment?" Tim asked slowly.

She looked at him quizzically before answering, "I'm just walking around, so, yes,"

"We have somewhere we want to take you," this time it was Ben who spoke up, "have to,"

"Oh..." She studied their faces for a second. Tim and Ben were um... Louis' best friends. Her now dead husband. Ex husband. Who no one knows where his corpse is, some believing that he was burnt to ashes while on a mission, which... Isn't something she necessarily likes to think about. They only found his ring, which she has now worn every single day of those two months of him being gone.

She trusts Tim and Ben. How could she not? They're what she likes to think as what she has left from Louis. So she follows her heart.

"Um, alright," she nods to herself and snaps up at them, "yeah, where do you want to take me?"

Timothy looks around with a serious look on his face before turning back to her, "We kind of can not tell you, you'll have to find out for yourself,"

"Should I be worried...?" She started getting very suspicious.

"We really have no time, this is really important, just get yourself and your horse ready, we're leaving in ten minutes," Tim excludes impatiently and throws his giant axe, that she has no idea how he lifts, over his shoulder and the two start walking towards horse stable.

She's left staring after them before she sighs,

"Okay..."

••••••••••••••••••••

"Guys, we have been on the road for three hours, where the fuck are you taking me?!"

She's getting impatient, if you can't tell.

"Nearly there, Di, just be patient," Ben answers with another frustrated sigh.

"Since when have I been So?!" She furrows her eyebrows at him.

"Louis never told me how annoying you are..." Ben whispers.

"Hey!" She quickly got riled up, "he-"

"we're here!" Timothy announces loudly, cutting them off.

"Um..." Diana looks around confusedly, "where?"

They ignore her question and get off their horses, to which she huffs exasperatedly before following their steps.

They tie their horses to a tree before Timothy turns to her.

"This is it, just go inside that cave over there." He points to where it is exactly.

"What, why?! Where are you guys going?!" She stares at them incredulously.

"Can you just go already?" Ben asks fake-sweetly.

She glowers at him before turning to Timothy, who was watching them tiredly before talking.

"we'll be right out here, we're not going anywhere."

"How do I know I'm not going to be killed?"

"Because you trust us,"

"No, I don't"

"What's going on here?"

A new voice joins in.

Ben grins, Diana freezes.

"Hey, man, she's right here. Tough to handle, that one is, don't know how you do it," Ben comments.

She doesn't have time to think of a comeback because the laugh she hears is so familiar.

So, so familiar.

She abruptly turns around and stares.

"Who is that?" She asks slowly. "Stop fucking with me, why am I here?"

"What do you mean, you don't know who that is?" It was Ben's turn to be confused.

She is fuming.

"You guys brought me all the way here, just to make me see a man who looks like my dead fucking husband? For what? Do you even know how cruel it is to-"

"Dee," The man frowns, "It's me, Louis,"

She looks around at everyone and tears pool in her eyes.

"Get away from me, who is this, it's not fair to play with someone's feelings like that,"

The guy finally comes close enough for her to see his features. Man, he looks just like Lou, she thinks.

She shakes her head and takes a step back when he got too close for her liking.

"Who are you?" She steadily keeps the eye contact.

A hand on her shoulder abruptly shakes her out of her trance, and she turns around to see Tim's pitying eyes,

"Trust him, trust us,"

She looks back ahead distrustfully and doesn't move when the man takes another step closer.

Not when he gets close enough to raise his hand and caress her cheek carefully.

To the point where she got cross eyed trying to keep eye contact.

"Figured it out yet?" He whispers.

She feels woozy.

Her once confused teary expression turns into an angry one in a split second and she abruptly moves away.

"You... How could you?!" She's mad.

"You made me think you were dead... You made us think you were dead! You know how much crying I've done these past two months?! They've all been for absolutely nothing! My heart feels like it's torn in half you bloody dick!" She gives his chest a strong push to express her anger even further.

"You have to listen to me, Dee, just give me a chance to-"

"You think you have the right?! I've been trying to manage double the work all on my own while you're hanging out in your bloody cave?!"

He sighs frustratedly.

"No, I've not just been hanging out in here, there's a lot to explain, just... Can I just hug you? I missed you an awful lot,"

Her face falls and she stands there limply before hugging him tightly, "of course I missed you, I just really hate you right now,"

He laughs and kisses the crown of her head before she adds, "But like, you told them but didn't tell me?! I have no idea how you even like that Ben guy, he's insufferable!"

"Hey, I'm right here!" Ben crosses his arms and huffs, but Tim was too busy grinning at the scene while patting Ben's back a little too hard.

"Let's go inside, there's a lot to explain to this feisty one," Louis smiles and beckons all of them inside.

"Nah, I'm saying here, I'm not gonna be close to her any longer," Ben refuses.

"We'll just go back, you guys make up for the missed time," Tim winks at Louis unsubtly, to which he laughs at.

"Alright, lads, see you tonight," He waves them good-bye while Diana stands there confused.

"Tonight?"

"Get inside, I have to clarify a lot of things."

•••••••••••••••••••••

"So they basically left my ring to make you guys believe I'm dead, which would obviously cause havoc,"

"I know we're in war, but... What do they get from that?"

"Me,"

She snorted, "Yeah, 'cause you're the best one out there, huh?"

He made an affronted noise and hit her shoulder jokingly, "You make me sound so selfish,"

She laughed at him and gestured for him to continue from her place next to him on the ground.

"They um..." He raised his right hand, "did this,"

She reached out to hold his bandaged hand but immediately retracted it when he winced.

"What did they do?" She frowned.

"Um..." He hesitated for a moment, "it doesn't matter,"

"Lou," she looked at him pointedly.

"They hit a nail into the middle of my palm," he squeezed his eyes and said it in one quick breath.

It was silent for a while.

"What...?" Tears pooled in her eyes as she picked up his hand, a lot more gingerly this time, "Lou, that's... I can't imagine that, I don't want to,"

He sighed, "You really wouldn't,"

"When was it?" She asked after giving it a little peck.

"About... Three weeks ago? I still need to reach out to Chris to make me something that can help me hold a sword without it hurting, that's Ben's mission for today, trying to get him to get him all this stuff without him knowing I'm still alive,"

"Why are you still hiding, love? I don't see the point,"

"I'm running away from them, still, I kind of escaped from the place with the help of another victim, they might have attacked the entire tribe if they knew I was there," he explained.

"Right..." She sighed.

He leaned his head back against the wall and smiled warmly at her.

"You okay?"

"I missed you..." She looks up at him, "Your mum is heartbroken, you sisters, everyone is, they think our tribe is going nowhere with just me in charge,"

"I know it could've went just fine if I were to pass away,"

"Shut up," she looked up from his hand on her lap to look him in the eye, "don't mention you dying anymore, I hate it,"

"Okay," he smiles before turning a little more sad, "and uhm, about my family, I miss them a whole lot and I feel so bad for doing this, but I can't have you telling anyone just yet. We need to keep this a secret until the coast is clear, we're going to attack their base tonight, Ben, Tim and I,"

"With this hand?!" She looked at him like he had two heads, "Lou, you can't just hold a sword with it,"

"I really wanna go home as soon as possible," he looked at her guiltily, "it's why Ben's getting me something to keep my hand in tact,"

"And if it doesn't work?"

"I... Guess I'll have to wait until it's safe to hold a sword,"

She thought silently for a moment and made a decision.

"I'll go instead of you,"

"What?! No! No way! This is my problem, I'm gonna fix it!"

"Ours, love, ours. I do know how to use a sword, you know that right?! It's what made you fall for me," she smiles.

"I fell for you because of so many things," he says, "either way, no,"

"It's safer, Lou, they don't know who I am, we could finish them off and none of them would know we're with you,"

"I made up my mind, it's a no," he looked to his side with a serious look on his face.

She sighed.

••••••••••••••••••••

"Alright, stay safe,"

"You're one to say,"

He sighs.

"I promise, we just need to finish off the big guy," he makes quotes with his hands, "then I'll be right back home,"

Her expression softens, "promise?"

"pinky promise," he loops his pinky around hers, a small gesture at which makes both of them smile wide.

"Horses are ready!"

"That's my cue, I guess," she gives him a disappointed smile.

He gives her forehead a small peck just because.

"Love you, don't do anything stupid," he gives her an accusatory finger but quickly retracts it because of course she's going to try to bite it.

"Love you more," she gives him a lopsided smile behind her back and heads off home with Ben and Tim, much to her dismay.

An hour into the trip, she turns to Ben.

"Hey, Ben?"

He keeps looking ahead, "Hm?"

"I want to ask something,"

"As long as it's not about tonight, sure,"

"Well..." She trails off, "what if it is?"

"Then I wouldn't really answer your question, anyway,"

"Ben," she whines, "I could help,"

"Louis gave us strict orders not to talk to you about it," he recites sternly.

"Look, I won't come on my own, I'm not that stupid," she explains, "I'll gather a good amount of combatants and we'll come as reinforcement,"

He seems to consider it for a moment, "I don't know..."

"Just tell me the base number, I promise, I won't do anything dumb," she insisted.

"Main base," he says after a moment and purses his lips when Tim gives him an unsure look, "Main base, just... Please don't get us in trouble for this,"

"You really think the three of you could attack a whole base? The main base? With Louis's fucked up hand?"

"We talked to him about it, stubborn as a mule, he is," Ben mutters.

She laughs knowingly, "The one trait we share,"

"Don't know how the two of you get along so well,"

"I still have no idea,"

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

"You ready lads?" Louis announces.

"We sure are," Tim answers, "How're you and your hand doing?"

"Not the best," he purses his lips and tries to stretch his fingers out, "But we can do this, we have to,"

"Lou, you said you'd wait if it weren't healed enough," Tim tries, "you know this won't be easy,"

"It's not impossible to use it, so we're going for it," Louis becomes impatient, "I miss my tribe, gotta get back to my people,"

Tim sighs and heads towards his horse, "yeah, alright,"

He really hopes Diana stays to her word.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Alright, most of them are asleep, we can take them guards down," Louis whispers to his friends from where they're crouching down behind some bushes.

"What happens after that?" Ben whispers back.

"We just have to get to Noah's tent and do what we have to do,"

"Wow, great plan, Lou," Ben deadpans, "we won't kill him in his sleep, right?"

"If we have to, yeah, but I'd prefer not to either,"

"Alright," Tim looks at both of them, "Ben and I will take those two down, they're blocking the main entrance. We take them down and get in disguise with their clothes, it'll make it easier for us to blend in,"

"That's what I call a plan!" Ben grins.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Louis waves them off, "Just do everything without me,"

"You can't fight with this hand Lou," Tim explains quietly, "you will if we need you to, yeah?"

"Yeah, now go, we have no time,"

Ben and Tim share a nod and approach the guards from each side, elbowing the backs of their necks and succeeding in making them pass out.

They go through the process of changing into their clothes and hiding their bodies before turning back to Louis.

"We don't know what to expect behind that gate," Tim points out.

"We'll just have to find out, then," Louis stands up.

"Wait!" Ben grabs him behind, "You can't just get in like that, you don't even have the clothes on, they're gonna recognise straight away,"

"Right..." He realises, "Well you go in before me, I suppose, and call for me when the coast is clear,"

They nod before finally standing up and going inside.

It's been five minutes. Louis counted. He's worried.

That's why he stands up and peeks behind the gate doors.

"So what might two Turkish idiots want from a place like this, huh?"

Ben and Tim are cornered. Fuck.

"Answer me!"

"I'm not saying a word,"

"Now's not the time to act all heroic, Tim, please, you literally could've made up a good lie right here,"

Louis sighs. Idiots.

And so he does what a fellow idiot would do and joins them inside. They pretty much have nothing to lose, literally every guard is there.

He steps inside and immediately grabs all the attention, but what grabs all of his is the person standing on the side that he didn't see.

"Well, well, well, look who we have here,"

He narrows his eyes, "Noah,"

A guard grabbed him straight away and there he stood next to his friends with a sword to his neck. This isn't going well.

"I sometimes really question you Turks' stupidity, and honestly, this answers my question," Noah grins and steps forward until he's right in front of Louis, to the point where Louis had to cross his eyes to look at him.

"How dare you dishonour my people like that," Louis glares at him the best he could, considering the proximity of their faces.

Instead of an answer, Louis receives a kick to his stomach.

"How's you hand?" Noah smirks.

"Shut up," Louis just focuses on not crying out loud from the pain.

Noah takes a step back to pick Louis's limp hand covered in iron and laughs loud, "Wow, so efficient,"

He drops it to the floor next to where Louis is sat, which causes it to start throbbing bad.

It doesn't help that he steps on it after that. Louis screams from the agonising pain.

"Tie them to the gallows!" Noah walks back and forth, "It's been a while since we've had a party,"

Louis thinks hears everyone cheer, but he's too busy focusing on the crippling pain while being dragged to the bloody gallows.

••••••••••••••••••

"Fast guys, we have no time to waste! Tie you horses to the trees and move fast!"

Diana manages to gather thirty combatants I'm total without getting caught, although her mother in law was a bit suspicious.

"Where have you been dear? I haven't seen much of you today,"

"I have some work to do outside the tribe, I'll be back before you know it!"

She didn't actually lie, did she?

She's worried sick. They're forty minutes late for the time Tim and Ben gave her, and the possibilities are endless.

"Go, go, go!" She whisper-yells and beckons them on by one to surround the different gates and be ready to get inside as one.

She looks around to check, but she doesn't see anyone outside. That's not necessarily a good thing.

She sighs and turns to everyone around her.

"On the count of three, and soon as I put my hand into a fist, everyone with swords is going to jump out behind me and get in there. The ones with bows are gonna stay behind the bushes to cover us, have we got a deal?"

Everyone nods. That's enough, she guesses.

"Three... Two... One... Go!"

And the mission starts.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

All three of them are tied to gallows. How did they reach this point.

"The one and only, Louis William Tomlinson, the hero of the Turkish empire! Tied to gallows," Noah walks back and forth and Louis's eyes follow his moves coldly, "All because of me!"

Louis turns to his boys to find them watching the entrance nervously. Weird.

"Psst,"

"Hm?" Tim hums back.

"You waiting for someone? You didn't tell anyone did you?"

Tim snorts, "I wish I did,"

"Then-

Louis was cut off by Noah's words.

"Why let's start," He gets close to Louis's face again, always gets on his nerves, "shall we?"

Everyone cheers and Louis swallows nervously. Guess it was the right thing to make them think he was dead, then.

Pull! Pull! Pull! Pull!

He pulled.

He was losing consciousness. This was it, then.

Except, was it?

He saw... A flying sword?

He's definitely dying.

Cut.

In one swift move he falls to the ground with a thud.

"Go!"

What is going on?

He looks up to see Tim cutting the rope around his neck hastily with a knife and in seconds he felt the relief of it being off his neck.

He looked up and blinked a few times to try and figure out what's going on, and god damn it, that little shit.

He grins.

"Lou? You alright?"

"Yeah, Tim, I'm good, let me just," he tries to stand up, but putting the weight of his body on his hand failed him miserably as he fell right back to the ground, "yeah,"

"I'm gonna carry you out of here, just wait for us to be done with this, we'll be done in no time,"

"No!" Louis refuses, "no, I wanna help, just... Just help me up, please?"

"I don't think-"

"Fucking lift me up, Timothy, I chose to be here and I'm gonna fight,"

Tim sighs after a moment and helps him up.

"Please don't make me regret this,"

"You won't," Louis assures while looking at the scene in front of him with dark eyes. He missed this.

He opens and closes his hand around his sword handle, he can do this.

One last breath, and he's pulling it out of its scabbard.

And he fights. He kills two people but his hand feels tired so he stands to rest it, but-

"Watch out!"

He looks ahead and that same flying sword comes hitting a guy's skull.

Namjoon really couldn't help but wonder what crawled up their maknae's ass and died lately; their youngest member has been on a short fuse for all but three weeks, snapping at his hyungs, messing up at rehearsals, sporting a grumpy frown at all times, and most importantly: working out as if he was training for some olympic finals. It wasn't just the leaders' imagination; the rest of bangtan had expressed their concern over Jungkook to him multiple times already, and all their efforts to calm the irritated brunette, or get some information out of him had been mostly countered by angry hissing. Hoseok said at one point he was legit afraid that Jungkook would bite his hand off, after he had attempted to pat the youngster's head. Despite all of his acting out, Jungkook had still managed to pull himself together for their concerts and fanmeets, much to Namjoon's relief. But he knew he couldn't let this go on much longer; the atmosphere at their dorm was positively frigid whenever the maknae was around, and it was starting to take a toll on all of them. Especially the rest of the maknae line were really taking it to heart; Jungkook almost having ripped Taehyung's head off whenever the other would so much as rest a hand on his shoulder; even having brought Jimin to near tears on one occasion, after violently pushing the singer away as he tried to give Jungkook a soothing hug after their last concert. This was just no way to live. Luckily, their promotions were coming to a close this week and they were permitted some time off to rest back at their dorm for a few days. Namjoon knew what he'd be using this time on: it was high time he and the rest of bangtan came together to discuss how to address the whole 'maknae-situation'. Because even more than being royally pissed at the unpredictable youngster, they were all really worried about him. He barely seemed to sleep anymore, and it didn't take a physician to see that Jungkook was taking his work-outs far past what would considered healthy. If he kept this up, he could truly injure himself. Yep, it was really for the best if they came together and confronted Jungkook about his behavior. Making up his mind, Namjoon send a text into their group chat to all meet in the living room first thing saturday. …. So here they were, all six of them, with the most crucial person still missing. It was seven in the morning on the first day off they had in forever, so naturally everyone was less than ecstatic; but there seemed to be a mutual agreement between them that this was taking priority. Once they sorted this whole thing out, Seokjin would cook a delicious breakfast, they would all eat together and laugh, and maybe catch up on some well-needed sleep after. But of course, there was no point in getting started when the most focal point of their discussion was still prominently absent. Deciding that they have waited just about enough, he sent Yoongi to go fetch Jungkook from his room. He had no doubt the maknae was already awake; for the last few weeks the brunette had been getting up at the break of dawn to once again work out like a madman, so he was probably still in his room doing passive-aggressive crunches or some shit. The mint-haired male got up, but not without heaving an overly dramatic sigh at being forced to move around so early in the morning (and being put on beast taming duty none-the-less). The reason Namjoon sent out the short rapper and none of the other members was because he knew, even at his hissiest, even Jungkook wouldn't dare to openly piss of Min Yoongi. That would be an assured death sentence. It only took ten minutes and a lot of yelling (and death threats) before the rapper returned, a positively fuming Jungkook in tow. As expected, the younger was wearing his work-out clothes, skin still slightly dewy from sweat. Letting out an agitated huff, Yoongi flopped back down on the couch, between Namjoon and Hoseok. Since their couch was rather small, there was not much space left, with all six of them huddled together on it, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok and Jimin squeezed together on the cushions and Taehyung and Seokjin leaning on the armrests. Belatedly, Namjoon realized how much this setup now resembled a trial, with the lonesome maknae left to stand in front of the couch with all of his hyungs. But maybe that was just the kind of uncomfortable setup needed to finally confront the young dancer. As the band's leader, Namjoon deemed it his responsibility to start the conversation, seeing as he was the one to even call the meeting in the first place. But with the way Jungkook was glaring daggers into them, the rapper was really struggling to get his words out. But luckily Seokjin had his back. “Thanks for coming too, Jungkook-ah”, the eldest said calmly; his words could be interpreted as sarcastic if it wasn't for the soft, encouraging tone he had spoken them in, trying hard to soothe the young singer as much as possible before they got to the point of their meeting. It seemed to have somewhat worked; despite looking away and growling out a quiet “whatever”, Jungkook's posture seemed to relax just a little after that; a look akin to guilt briefly flashing over his features. Even if they had basically gathered here today to give the maknae a thorough scolding, they wanted Jungkook to know that they loved him and worried for his health. Thanking Seokjin with a quiet smile, Namjoon now finally had the courage to address the sulking brunette. “Jungkookie...do you know why I called in this meeting today?” he started softly, trying to sound as little provocative as possible. He received nothing but a half-hearted shrug in return. Oh god, this boy. Scraping all of his leftover patience together, he tried again. “We have noticed you have been acting really off lately. You haven't been yourself, making so many mistakes at rehearsals and stuff...” Jungkook refused to meet his, or anyone else's eyes, instead opting to stare at the floor, jaw clenching slightly in irritation. “Everyone has a bad week once in a while..” he mumbled dismissively. “A bad week? More like a month!” Taehyung exclaimed loudly, annoyance apparent in his voice as he rose up slightly from his seat on the couch's armrest, only being held back by Jimin placing a calming hand on the other's thigh. Jungkook seemed to pick up at the irritation in the other's voice, visibly bristling with anger, eager to fight back. “Are you saying I am bad at my job?!” he hissed back at Taehyung, sounding just about ready to jump his usually favorite hyung's throat. “We are saying you are acting like a piece of shit lately and we got fucking enough of it.” Yoongi spat, his normally gravelly voice dark with fury, making the other members shiver in fear and the maknae sink into himself like he was trying to disappear into thin air. Not wanting the conflict to escalate any further, and noticing how sad and miserable Jungkook was looking all of a sudden, Namjoon decided to step up and put thing's back on track. “This is not like you Kookie...We are really worried about you. You have been neglecting your health and pushing your body a lot lately, we don't want to see you get hurt. Just...just tell us what's the matter.” the leader said softly, his words accompanied by the other members nodding in agreement. By this point, all the rage seemed to have left the youngster's body and he just looked...defeated. “Whatever it is, I promise we won't get mad.” he decided to add for good measure. Jungkook didn't answer or lift his head; a few minutes passed like this, a heavy silence settling over the living room, apart from the quiet ticking of the clock on the kitchen's wall. Just as Namjoon was about to speak up again, they heard a small, quiet sob. Neither of them had expected for the maknae to actually break out in tears in front of them. Jungkook almost never cried openly, trying to appear all tough and strong. And yet, there he stood, thick globs of tears falling from his eyes and unto the carpet, biting down on his trembling lower lip to stifle the sobs that where wracking his body. His hyungs were stunned into silence, too shocked to move or speak, watching the younger break down in front of them with wide eyes. “I-I..it's just...” Jungkook choked out between sobs, hands gripping the fabric of his basketball shorts so tightly his knuckles were turning white. “...y-you remember how I started taking those meds, y-y'know...against my anxiety..?” His hyungs nodded in understanding, they all recalled how bad the brunette's social awkwardness had gotten since their last comeback, to the point where Bang Sihyuk had decided to get the maknae some psychiatric counseling. They were all pretty amazed at how well the new medication worked for the youngest, becoming much more open and active during interviews and guest appearances. It had done their maknae a lot of good. “Well...they have been really good and all...but lately, there have been some...s-side effects..” Jungkook continued; the flow of his tears seemed to have mostly subsided, but he was still shaking like a leaf, refusing to meet his hyungs' eyes. The other members shot each other worried looks at the brunette's words, hearing this information for the first time. Hoseok finally voiced out what all of them had been asking themselves. “What kind of side effects?” At this Jungkook seemed to tense, his face flushing slightly and hands gripping tighter. “I-It's embarrassing...” he whispered, shrinking in on himself just a little bit more. He looked so pitiful in that moment, so cute and frail, and his hyungs' hearts ached at the sight. Seokjin seemed to be the only one who had the courage to pry further, protective instincts taking over at seeing the young singer, who he prided himself in having raised on his own shoulders, looking that pained and sad. “Jungkook, you can tell us anything. We won't ever judge you. But you have to tell us what the matter is, so we can help you. We all love you, baby.” The affectionate nickname made Jungkook redden even further, but his hyung's kind words actually eased the tension a bit. All of his hyungs were looking at him with so much love, speaking words of encouragement, and Jungkook felt like the worst piece of trash for lashing out them all this time. They just wanted what was best for him. His love for his hyungs overpowering his embarrassment, he finally opened up about what he had been going through the last few weeks. “M-my body is...it's not reacting like usually anymore..when I..you know..t-touch myself,” the brunette croaked out, face burning in mortification from having to talk about something as personal and embarrassing like this. “A-and I can't...I can't come anymore.” The last words were almost inaudible, the brunette's voice breaking at the end of the sentence; but his hyungs picked up on it none-the-less. Jungkook's face was burning in shame, but at this point, it was like a gate had been broken, and the words just came flooding out. “A-and...it was just so weird and frustrating. At first it didn't matter much, but the longer it went on, the more it scared me...I started to feel like I was losing control of my body, so I started working out more, I just wanted to feel in control again, but then it kind of became like an obsession and I just couldn't stop..I was so scared and I just wanted to feel something again, I wanted to tell someone but I was just too embarrassed...it just got worse and worse, I couldn't sleep properly anymore because I was just so frustrated and restless and alone, I started to feel like something was wrong with me and the more I messed up at practice the more I felt like a failure, I was so overcharged with energy and horny and angry at myself and I just...let it out on you...a-and...I'm..s-so...so sorry... ” Jungkook's rambling was swallowed by the sobs shaking his body once again, hands wiping at his eyes in a pathetic attempt to stop the overflowing tears from running down his face. For a few moments, everyone was silent, the hyungs' minds reeling to take in the young singers confession; no one knew what to say or do, just watching their maknae cry pitifully. It was Hoseok who finally had the mind to do something; getting up from his position on the couch, he strode forwards and grabbed the sobbing brunette's wrist, prying it away from his face and, with one strong tug, pulled Jungkook towards himself, letting himself and the young singer fall back onto the couch. Letting out a surprised yelp, Jungkook landed sprawled over Hoseok's and Yoongi's laps. Before he had any chance to protest, arms wrapped around him everywhere; Yoongi and Hoseok hugging his middle, Jimin's arms around his neck; a large hand which he supposed belonged to Taehyung ran through his hair affectionately; someone was squeezing his thigh and there were also kisses, lots of kisses. Jungkook didn't know if he should laugh or cry; so he did both, the sound coming out just a little more pitiful than he would have wanted, and it just made the kind words and affectionate cooing increase while the younger was positively being mushed by his hyungs in a big cuddle pile. It was the sweetest moment of Jungkook's life and he didn't know if he was crying because of joy, relief or sadness right now, but it felt like after weeks of almost suffocating him, a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. Why had he ever been afraid of telling his hyungs? They had always supported him and been there for him. It was a heartwarming moment, laughing, crying, snuggling back into his hyungs' affectionate touches; but his bliss came to a sudden stop when he felt someone kiss his nape – in a matter of seconds this raging fire of arousal was scorching his insides once again. Kisses on his head and cheeks had been fine, but his neck was his weak spot. He cursed himself to infinity and beyond for the needy whimper that escaped his lips at the action, trying desperately to break free from his hyungs' hold before he acted even more disgusting; but his actions were thwarted by Hoseok's strong arms wrapping around his struggling form, pulling the singer into his lap firmly when he felt the younger trying to escape. The other members who had felt the maknae's sudden resistance too backed away slightly, allowing the rapper to secure the frantic brunette in his hold and looking at the youngster in concern, who albeit having calmed down and stopped crying, suddenly looked a little flustered and panicked. “What's the matter Kook-ah?” Hoseok asked concerned, kissing the maknae's neck again in an attempt to calm him down; instead Jungkook shivered from head to toe, trying to cover his neck with his his hand and gasping out a weak “A-Ah please..not there..” Taehyung, who had ended up on the floor in front of them (in order to get closer to the cuddle pile) watched the brunette's shuddering and blushing form in awe, a sudden mischievous look appearing on his attractive face. “Hm, is your nape your weak spot, Kookie?” he teased with a sly smirk, snaking his hands up Jungkook's exposed calves from his position on the floor. Hoseok seemed to quickly catch on to what the 95liner was up to, adapting an equally smug expression as he brought his lips to the maknae's neck again. “Is that so?” the rapper whispered slyly against the younger male's skin, reveling in how his breath alone made the brunette squirm deliciously in his lap. “G-guys...please stop..” Jungkook moaned weakly, body too thirsty for the touches to fight back properly. “I haven't been able to ..m-masturbate in over a month now...p-please...before I do something disgusting..” It was embarrassing to admit something like this, but he needed his hyungs to understand the severity of the situation. They have always indulged in a lot of playful skin ship with each other; they were friends after all. But all this pent up frustration made Jungkook react in a very un-friend like manner to his hyungs' touches. He regretted how harshly he had lashed out at them whenever they would try to touch him the last few weeks, but...he felt like a ticking time bomb, and while even masturbating until his dick was raw didn't manage to make him climax, by this time a gentle summer breeze would probably be enough to get him aroused. It was majorly unfair and just pure hell; and if there was anything he didn't want, it was putting off his hyungs and possibly making them disgusted at him because he popped a boner while getting hugged. However, his hyungs didn't seem to have any of it. “Nothing you could do would ever disgust us, Kookie..” Jimin whispered sweetly, lacing his fingers with Jungkook's trembling ones and bringing their hands up to his mouth to give them a gentle kiss. Jungkook was sure he died for a second. “Isn't that right, guys?” the angelic singer smiled, mouth still against Jungkook's fingers. “He's right.” Yoongi decided to chime in, voice rough but with a gentle edge to it. “Actually...” the rapper started, sliding a hand over Jungkook's thigh, making the younger male inhale sharply, unconsciously leaning more into Hoseok's frame, on whose lap he was still seated. “I was thinking we could help you...relieve some of that pent up stress.” The look Yoongi shot Jungkook to go with those words was absolutely scandalous and made his stomach flutter with scorching butterflies. He desperately tried to collect his thoughts, shutting out the hands softly caressing his calves, the lips still peppering little kisses over his digits, the hot breath hitting his neck and now, the gentle yet firm pressure on his thigh...oh god. He couldn't...were they fucking serious?! Jungkook closed his eyes and silently counted to ten, trying his damn hardest to keep his blood in his brain instead of rushing elsewhere. “Y-You don't mean that...” he argued weakly, feeling his defense crumbling with the scorching hot looks his hyungs were directing at him. “Yeah we do.” Seokjin said, his tone light and gentle, but his eyes carried all the serious determination to convey to the younger, that yes, they were in fact all quite down for that. Okay, now Jungkook really couldn't help all the heat from pooling in his lower half, the eldest's words going straight to his groin. Whimpering pathetically, he tried to press his knees together, but Taehyung simply pulled his legs apart again, spreading them open even further and scooting in closer between them, much to Jungkook's shock and embarrassment. He did not appreciate Taehyung's sinfully attractive mouth this near his groin when he was struggling desperately to not get hard. Even worse, his subsequent squirming just caused his shirt to ride up where Hoseok's hands were locked around his waist, and the skin on skin contact was just...oh, oh god...he was so fucked. Jungkook tried desperately to form words through the thick haze that was starting to cloud his mind. “I-...hyungs...e-even if you did...I won't be able to come anyway..” he reasoned weakly; it was a poor excuse because, come on, those were his hyungs, he shouldn't be doing something like that with them anyway, out of the million reasons against this, it was kind of a weird one to bring up but...it was the truth, wasn't it? Once, Jungkook had spent over an hour locked in their bathroom trying to jerk off, but to no avail; by the end he ended up sobbing on the bathroom floor, horny, desperate for release and so, so angry at his own body for turning against him like that. So maybe they could call this whole thing off now, give Jungkook's body a few minutes to calm down, and then sit down to eat a nice breakfast together... What Jungkook didn't expect was Namjoon's following words. “Well, actually...I think you might be able to with prostate stimulation? You don't normally finger yourself, do you, Kookie?” How the hell. Could their leader ask a question like that. With a straight fucking face? Jungkook's face immediately heated up to a million degrees. Jungkook let out mortified yelp of “Hyung!”, but the rapper didn't relent, leaning in closer with an expression of innocent curiosity that really didn't match the kind of filthy thing he was inquiring about. “So...do you?” Deciding that at this point, he might as well give up on trying to resist, Jungkook closed his eyes with a shuddering breath, leaning his head back against Hoseok's shoulder as he muttered a quiet “No.” He was feeling immensely humiliated right now, being interrogated about his masturbation techniques with six pairs of eyes glued to him, but the worst thing about it was: it turned him on like mad. He might have just the slightest shame kink. Sue him. His eyes flew back open when Taehyung slammed his hands on Jungkook's knees, looking at the maknae with the widest and most obnoxious grin ever. “Then it's decided!” the loud singer exclaimed happily, earning some confused looks from his hyungs. “Let's start operation let's-make-Kook-come-until-he-can't-see-straight-anymore!...2k17!” he added as an afterthought. Taehyung's words were met with lots of goodhearted laughter, but also many approving hums; Jungkook in the meanwhile wondered if it was possible to pass out from arousal and die of embarrassment at the same time. “H-Hyungs..! That's not funny..!” he whined, breath hitching when he felt Hoseok's hot lips press against his nape again, the rapper's fingers now slipping under his thin shirt in earnest. “I agree...” Hoseok hummed against Jungkook's soft skin, pressing kisses against every patch of heated flesh his lips could reach. “It's not funny...it's pretty damn hot.” “A-Ah...H-Hobi-hyung please..if you..ngh..keep doing then i'll...i'll...” Jungkook moaned, fingers weakly grasping at the hand that was currently tracing scorching patterns over his stomach, but the way the other was nibbling at the sensitive skin of his neck was stealing all the strength from his body, filling his limbs with jelly. “Then you'll....get hard?” Yoongi provided helpfully and Jungkook didn't even to look at him to hear the mirth in his voice. “That's the point, isn't it?” The daegu rapper's sinfully veiny hand was still massaging his thigh, inching up and inwards slowly and driving Jungkook nearly insane. The maknae tried to choke down the noises trying to escape his throat, but failed miserably. His ears were burning in shame hearing himself moan so lewdly, but he couldn't help it, his skin was on fire, arousal cursing through his body like jolts of electricity and it was just so good. If it wasn't for the drugs side-effects, his dick would be straining against his stomach already, drooling with precome, but as it was, his member was only slowly starting to harden, without any direct contact. Jimin seemed to want to amend that though, because the Busan boy reached over and cupped Jungkook's groin without any warning, palming the now trembling brunette through his shorts. “You're so cute, Kookie...” Jimin cooed, nuzzling the younger male's cheek while his hand kept working on the other's crotch. “Such a good boy. Let your hyungs take care of you.” Jungkook whined lowly in the back of his throat, turning his face towards the hyung showering him with such sweet praises, desperate to please after such a long time avoiding and lashing out at his hyungs. He didn't deserve them, they were always so good to him. “Jiminie-hyung...I'm so sorry I was mean to you..to all of you...I want to be good for you...” his desperate whimpers were interrupted when Jimin pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, effectively shutting the younger male up. “Shh, baby..it's okay. We forgive you.” Jungkook leaned in for another sweet kiss from his angelic hyung, feeling so light-headed and dizzy and so, so happy. He was forced to gasp loudly into the soft kiss when Taehyung pushed away Jimin's hand to instead nuzzle his goddamn face into Jungkook's groin, tracing the outline of the younger's hard cock that was showing through the short's thin fabric with his lips. Flashing the flushed, glossy-eyed Jungkook a smirk that should be a felony because holy hell, Taehyung chirped: “You can repay hyung by letting me be the first one to fuck your tight hole.” Jungkook never heard Taehyung talk dirty like that before, but paired with the singer's sinfully deep voice it made the brunette let out a needy whine and his dick twitch with arousal. By the self-satisfied grin the other was now wearing, he must have felt it; giving Jungkook's clothed cock one last kiss, he moved on to nibble and suck at the maknae's inner thigh, leaving angry red marks and shoving the basketball shorts fabric up in the process. Jungkook almost cried at the loss of attention to his pulsating member, but it didn't last long because a second later Yoongi's illegally beautiful hands (god..these hands..) made short work of his shorts and underwear and finally pulled the brunette's straining cock out of its confines, wrapping skilled fingers around the heated flesh and starting to jerk it in long, languid strokes that made Jungkook want to cry and beg. “Only if he lets me properly eat him out first.” the rapper growled deeply, and Jungkook could swear he wasn't the only one groaning at how freaking hot that sounded. “H-hyung..!” he whimpered hotly, squirming in Hoseok's lap against the maddening onslaught of pleasure, his brain near short-circuiting when he felt something hot and hard press against his backside. “Oh godd..I want it so bad...I want all of you...” It was all just so much, so hot, so good...Taehyung assaulting his thighs, Yoongi jerking his dick, Hoseok biting his neck, Jimin pulling him in for another kiss, this time with tongue, deep and dirty and mind-numbingly slow...he wondered how he still hasn't come yet, when the pleasure wracking his body felt so crushingly intense and torturous and heavenly... Between kissing Jimin, Jungkook vaguely registered Namjoon and Seokjin watching the five of them, the eldest tucked snugly against the leader's shoulder as they lazily stroked each other's cocks, eyes dark with desire as they watched their maknae being completely taken apart at the hands of his hyungs. “Hmm...our baby Kookie looks so good like this, don't you agree Joon-ah?” Seokjin cooed with affection, his handsome face looking like pure sin when it was flushed in arousal like that. Namjoon groaned in agreement, trying to burn the image into his mind for later use, because hell, was it a hot scene. Why were all of his fellow members so damn sexy? He had never seen a porn flick that was even remotely as arousing as this. Even so, he was starting to notice the youngest looking more and more desperate, his cock painfully erect and leaking; but it did not seem like this level of stimulation would be enough for the poor boy to be able to climax...being constantly on the brink of orgasm without actually being able to reach it must feel pretty maddening. Namjoon decided it was about time they started phase two. Whispering something into Seokjin's ear, he gave the other male a peck and got up from the couch, heading for his room. Meanwhile, the oldest singer got up from his position on the couch too, giving the others a signal to stop their onslaught on the maknae for a little bit to listen to him. Jungkook almost sobbed in desperation when the delicious friction against his dick stopped, Taehyung and Hoseok also withdrawing from their quest to properly mark up every patch of the maknae's skin they could reach. Seokjin ignored Jungkook's needy whimpers in favor of addressing Hoseok. “Hey Seokie, can you let Jungkookie up for a bit?” Complying with the elder's request, the rapper withdrew his hands from around the maknae's waist and helped Seokjin as he pulled the younger to his feet. When Jungkook was standing up straight, albeit on wobbly legs, Seokjin put his hands on the brunette's shoulders, giving him a deep and loving look. “I know it's hard on you right now, but hyungs will help you feel better soon, okay baby?” he talked softly to the dazed male, running a soothing hand through the younger's soft hair. He adored how Jungkook was leaning into the touch, looking at him with big doe eyes full of trust and admiration and complete obedience, like Seokjin was the answer to all of Jungkook's question. He was the cutest dongsaeng Seokjin ever had and he just wanted to coddle and baby the other forever; and the way the maknae enjoyed being babied and praised by him was frankly kind of hot. Jungkook would probably do whatever Seokjin ordered him to; not out of fear but of of sheer will to please and be praised. And who was he to withhold that from the maknae, if he so clearly was desperate for it? “Namjoon hyung is getting some supplies so we can get you properly prepared.” he smiled sweetly. “In the meantime, can you maybe take off your clothes for us baby? Be a good boy and undress for your hyungs, hm?” Nodding weakly, Jungkook allowed his oldest hyung to turn him around so he was facing the couch again. With the help of Seokjin he managed to slowly pull his thin shirt up and over his head, the slight friction enough to make his nipples harden. Discarding the shirt, the maknae couldn't help the intense shiver creeping up his spine, at how hungrily his hyungs were eyeing every new patch of exposed skin; he could practically feel their heated gazes on his exposed abs and pecs. Reveling in the attention, he leaned back into Seokjin's strong frame, gasping weakly when the elder's skilled hands immediately started teasing his nipples, being familiar with what made the young singer keen with lust from years of waking him up like that. Biting down on his lip to suppress the heated moans spilling from his mouth, Jungkook tried to focus on the task at hand, hooking his thumbs into the waist band of his shorts and underwear and pulling them down slowly at the same time. His hyungs' lustful groans as he let the fabric pool around his ankles, standing now completely exposed made his chest swell with pride and arousal. They wanted him. They wanted him just as much as he wanted them. Their hot eyes seemed to ravage his body and Jungkook loved every second of it. His overstimulated body arched forward when Seokjin gave his sensitive nipples a particularly hard squeeze, the pleasure surging through his body positively electrifying. “What a pretty boy.” Seokjin cooed into his neck, and it was all Jungkook could do to not collapse here and there, begging them all to just fuck him already. He desperately wished that what Namjoon had said was true and he would be able to finally reach his climax today; at this point he felt so desperate, he would probably sell his soul to experience a proper orgasm again. Speaking of the devil, their leader chose this moment to finally return to the living room, his arms full of various kinds of lube and some things Jungkook had never seen before, but assumed must be sex toys especially designed for prostate stimulation. His mouth was watering at the sight, but at the same time, he felt a weird kind of nervousness deep in his gut at the prospect of trying out something new and scary, all while his hyungs would be watching. What if he made a complete fool of himself? What if, after all this effort his hyungs were putting into him, he still wouldn't be able to come? Would they be disappointed in him? When Namjoon registered the slightly panicked expression on the maknae's face while he stared at the supplies in the rapper's arms, the leader quickly decided to dump them onto the couch, stepping up to the nervous brunette so he was now sandwiched between him and Seokjin. Taking the younger's face into his hand gently, he gave the maknae an reassuring kiss on the lips. “Don't worry Kook-ah...we won't do anything you are not ready for, okay?” he smiled gently at the young singer, who could only nod weakly in response. The younger still seemed a little bit tense, but much to the rapper's relief, the maknae seemed to relax a little bit when Seokjin and him enclosed him in a loving hug. Despite how turned on and on edge everyone seemed to be, it was still important for all of them to express the love and care they felt for each other. Namjoon knew they would have to have a talk once this whole thing was over; it wasn't easy to share such a strong bond between seven people in the first place. Throwing sex into the mix made the whole thing just even more emotionally confusing, but the leader didn't want to let anyone get hurt over this. Thankfully, in this very moment, the mutual respect and love they carried for each other made them understand all of this without words. They all loved each other. They all loved their maknae, and their maknae loved them. If one of them is hurting, of course they'd all want to comfort them; and if one of them is in need, they are all more than ready to come to their help. This was the strength of bangtan. A collective good hearted laughter and cries of “That's so sappy, Joon-ah!” informed the leader that he had, apparently, voiced all of his thoughts aloud. Namjoon's face was burning a bit in embarrassment, but the way Jungkook hugged him back, chuckling into the rapper's shirt, made it totally worth it. Giving the maknae one last sweet kiss on the forehead, he twirled around, the still very naked brunette still in his arms, facing the others with a broad grin. “Now that we got the sappy stuff out of the way...let's get to the fun stuff!” Jungkook swallowed hard as he looked back at his hyungs, each one wearing an expression of complete and utter mischief. Oh god..just what did he get himself into? … Jungkook was sure he was dying. Either that, or he was already dead and ascended to heaven, because oh god, oh god, oh god....! The maknae found himself chanting that under his breath; this was all too good to be true. His naked body was currently draped over Namjoon's lap, who had taken the task of preparing the brunette upon himself; but of course, they all agreed to have Yoongi have his way with the young singer first, to get the maknae back into the mood and make the intrusion of Namjoon's long finger a bit easier on him; but also because Yoongi seemed very eager to put his tongue technology to use on the younger, much to everyone's delight. “Y-You really don't have to this hyung..!” Jungkook stuttered out, letting out a pathetic whimper when Namjoon's warm hand caressing his behind was joined by the daegu rapper's much colder hands, gripping his buttocks and giving them a firm squeeze. “But I want to.” the mint haired male whispered huskily and Jungkook swore he was about to pass out from the other's deep, rough voice alone. “Unless you don't want me to?” Jungkook let out a hot gasp when he felt a thumb press into the crack between his cheeks, the rough pad massaging the twitching ring of muscles firmly and almost making him buck up his hips into the action, he felt so hot and desperate and he wanted it so, so much, he needed it..! “Ghh...n-no, please...I want it! Please hyung!” He didn't need to beg for long before he could feel the strong hands pull apart his cheeks, the other's hot breath hitting his quivering hole. Jungkook let out a long, needy whine when the rapper's hot tongue finally pressed against him, licking a wet stripe over his rim that shot right to the brunette's groin, making his body convulse. Jungkook felt Namjoon's strong hands rub soothing circle into his back as Yoongi's talented tongue flicked and prodded at his entrance. The sensation was weird, foreign...but so damn good. It was wet and scorchingly hot and made his muscles twitch in pleasure; somewhere in the back of his mind he felt some embarrassment at how shamelessly he was drooling right now, his mouth agape with short labored breaths. With every lick and press of tongue he was grinding his hips onto Namjoon's toned thigh, really glad that the other had taken off his pants before, because he wasn't sure his swollen, oversensitive tip would be able to stand the rough friction of jeans fabric right now. Instead, his dick was unapologetically leaking precome all over their leader's soft, tan skin, making the slide pleasantly slick. Jungkook didn't care if he sounded like a slut, begging his hyung to push his tongue inside already, because the payoff was so, so sweet as the rapper finally slipped the wet appendage past his ring of muscles, the his lips wrapping around the puckered skin and sucking, sending the maknae figuratively to Hong Kong with that god damned mouth of his... “Hyuung..ooh god..I-I can't..oh, fuck! ” The maknae's swearing made his hyungs' laugh and he could feel Yoongi briefly grin against his asshole, which was embarrassing and hot at the same time. “Watch your language, Kook-ah!” Seokjin scolded, but there was no real heat behind his words, he sounded more amused than anything. They all seemed like they were having quite the fun time watching him falling apart like this, and Jungkook loved every second of it. Feeling a little bit smug himself, Jungkook decided to voice the first thing that came to his mind, grinning slightly despite his face being an absolute flushed mess. “Why don't you shut me up then?” he all but purred, licking his lips in a manner he hoped his hyungs found seductive, before he was forced to let out another wanton moan as Yoongi started tongue fucking him in earnest. The reaction it got him was rather nice all in all; Jimin and Hoseok seemed rather shocked at their cute innocent dongsaeng acting not-so innocently, while Taehyung groaned deeply in want, palming himself over his underwear. Seokjin on the other hand seemed rather unaffected, shooting the maknae a sly smile that looked absolutely obscene on his handsome face, making the older look like a greek god of sex to Jungkook; one he wouldn't mind worshiping, if you catch his drift. “Should I?” Seokjin grinned, pulling down his designer boxer-briefs to let his long, hard cock spring free, curving handsomely against the oldest singer's flat stomach. His hyung was bigger than Jungkook had expected, but hell if it didn't make his mouth water. “Y-Yes please!” he gasped, parting his saliva slick lips as the elder put one knee up on the couch, bringing his hips close to the maknae's face. Feeling rather aroused from the display, Namjoon diverted his attention from the daegu rapper, eating out the maknae like it was his last meal, to Seokijin; grinning smugly, he ran a hand through the soft brown locks of the singer draped over his lap, before gripping them harshly and bringing the maknae's face up by his hair, making Jungkook let out a pained hiss, followed by a wanton groan. “Open wide for your hyung, baby.” Namjoon cooed, eyes glued to Seokjin's cock as the hard, veiny flesh pushed inch by inch past Jungkook's red, swollen lips. He got about two thirds of the way before the maknae's gag reflex kicked in. Seokjin tried to pull back slowly, but Jungkook was having none of it. This was his chance to show his hyung how good he could be for him. Jungkook pressed his tongue flat against the underside of the other's member, and, careful to always shield his teeth with his lips as to not graze the sensitive flesh, he pushed down on the other's dick, trying his hardest to suppress his gag reflex. He felt his throat hurt and convulse, but he didn't give up until his nose was nestled in the soft patch of Seokjin's sparse pubic hair. His throat was incredibly full, he was aware of the tears welling up in his eyes and the saliva dripping down his chin, but he stayed still for a good five seconds, before pulling back as slowly as he could bring himself to, lips wrapped around the heated flesh tightly, trying to apply as much suction as possible. He could hear Seokjin take a long, shuddering breath, and he was sure Namjoon's cock was twitching in interest against his stomach, and in that moment he felt incredibly proud of himself. And also incredibly aroused. He gave the sensitive tip a last long suck, before letting the saliva-slick organ fall out of his mouth with an audible 'pop'. Looking up at Seokjin with wide, innocent doe-eyes, he asked: “Am I doing okay, hyung?” For a moment the older singer was stunned into silence, looking at his precious dongsaeng looking like the personification of sin, cute face flushed a deep red, eyes gleaming, hair mussed up and lips swollen and slick with saliva. Oh god..this boy was going to be the death of them one day. “You are doing so, so well, sweetie~” he murmured fondly in return, cupping the younger's face, swiping a thumb over the brunette's plump lower lip. As soon as the words left his mouth, the young singer's natural pout dissolved into a happy grin, looking much too pure and innocent for the situation they were in. But soon the expression warped back into one of wanton desperation, as the maknae thrust his hips back into Yoongi's face as the rapper plunged his tongue in especially deep. “Hyung!” Jungkook gasped out, whimpering pathetically while wiggling his hips in need of more. “Please..n-no more teasing...I-I need more!” Pulling back with a self-satisfied grin, Yoongi sat up on his heels, giving the maknae's quivering ass a slap, chuckling at the small yelp it earned him. “If you ask Joonie real nice, he might be able to give you what you want.” the rapper teased, his fingers rubbing tortuously against the brunette's slicked up hole. “Tell us what you want, baby..” Namjoon cooed, petting the singer's hair affectionately. He could tell the maknae was beyond desperate when he obeyed without question, his need for satisfaction overpowering his natural shyness. “A-Ah...I want Namjoon-hyung's fingers in me” he begged, feeling like he would go absolutely insane if he didn't get something inside him right now! “A-And...I want to keep sucking Jin-hyung off..” he added nervously, afraid the other might reject him due to his lack of skill or experience. “Mh, I'd love that Jungkookie~” Seokjin purred, scratching Jungkook's head like you would a cat. “But are you sure you don't need your mouth to tell Joonie if you are feeling okay with what he's doing?” Jungkook quickly shook his head, but his face still heated up at the amount of concern his hyungs were expressing for him. It was so sweet of them. “I-I..I'd rather have something to distract me..” he confessed sheepishly, earning an understanding smile from his considerate hyungs. They were all aware this was all still very new to their youngest and that he might feel a little bit nervous about it. Even so, communication was important. “I'll allow it under one condition.” Namjoon declared, smiling back at the brunette craning back his neck to look at him. “You'll take regular breaks to tell me how you feel. Okay, baby?” Jungkook just rolled his eyes in response, thinking their leader was being just a bit too cautious with him. Even so, he knew there was no arguing with Kim Namjoon once the rapper had set his mind to something. “Sure, daddy.” he quipped back. It was meant to be sarcastic, but the way the other's face was burning up at the nickname was...interesting to say the least. “Ah, could it be our leader-nim has fetish for this kind of thing?” Hoseok teased smugly, but his words were lightened by the good-natured chuckle that accompanied them. Jimin, Taehyung and Yoongi joined into the laughter, and even Seokjin couldn't suppress the small grin breaking out on his face. “Haha...very funny guys.” Namjoon sulked, giving the maknae a harsh slap on the buttocks when he heard the brunette snicker at him too. Cheeky little brat. “If you have time to laugh, Seokjin should maybe keep your mouth busy after all.” Jungkook, who had let out a little squeal at getting spanked again (not that he was complaining), instead turned his attention back to Seokjin. “You can fuck my mouth if you want to, hyung.” he whispered seductively, and immediately the light-hearted mood turned heavy with lust again. “God, Kookie..you're such a slut..” Taehyung groaned, jerking his dick to the sight of Seokjin taking a hold of the maknae's head and pushing his dick slowly into the brunette's mouth. Jimin boxed Taehyung's arm lightly at this, scolding the other 95liner. “Tae! Don't call him that!” “But he likes it!” Taehyung exclaimed in defense, stopping his enthusiastic wanking to rub the sore spot where the other singer had hit him. Jimin just raised an eyebrow, looking at the maknae inquisitively. “Is that true?” Jungkook blushed a dark red, but couldn't really answer with his mouth occupied by his oldest hyung's dick. Instead, he opted to nod his head, as much as his current position would allow it. It was a little bit embarrassing to admit, but Taehyung's dirty talk was really turning him on a lot. He usually wasn't really much into degradation, with his low self-esteem, having more of a kink for getting praised, but a little bit was totally acceptable (and hot). And he trusted the other to not take it too far. Flashing Jimin a triumphant smile, Taehyung went back to stroking his dick to the sight in front of him, and Jimin too soon got entranced in the way their oldest member was slowly fucking their youngest's face. In the meanwhile, Namjoon had unscrewed the cap of one of the lube bottles (he opted for the strawberry scented one he had gotten from Seokjin's drawer) and thoroughly coated his long fingers in the liquid. Once he deemed them slick enough, he proceeded to slip the digits between the maknae's round buttocks, teasing the entrance, which was still slick with Yoongi's spit, with two fingers. Making sure Jungkook was still properly distracted by Seokjin face-fucking him, he started to prod at the puckered flesh, slowly slipping his index finger inside. Due to Yoongi's preparation, the first finger slipped in easy enough; Namjoon taking a small break at each knuckle, until his finger was fully sheathed in the maknae's hot, velvety walls. While the excessive slickness made the slide easy enough, Namjoon could still tell the other was quite tight, squeezing around his finger in a way he wasn't quite sure was comfortable. Giving Seokjin a sign to let the younger go for a little bit, he wiggled his finger around to gauge the maknae's reaction. Jungkook gasped for air when the hard flesh abusing his throat pulled back suddenly, and he wanted to whine in protest, because the way Seokjin's hard tip kept hitting the back of his throat felt incredibly erotic, and having his mouth used like that made him feel hot and bothered and really dirty. Not to mention, the restricted air supply made his head swim in just the right way to forget about the uncomfortable, burning sensation penetrating his insides. But as soon as the welcome distraction disappeared, he could feel the appendage wriggling around inside of him even more intensely and it made him let out a choked gasp. “How does it feel, Kookie?” Namjoon inquired, his voice mostly calm and laced with concern, but also with a rough, husky edge to it that Jungkook found absolutely delightful. If his leader was getting turned on fingering him, he could live with a little bit of discomfort. Still, he knew he had to be truthful, or Namjoon might get the crazy idea to stop what he was doing, because he was afraid of hurting Jungkook. “It feels..weird.” the maknae admitted sheepishly, shifting his hips a little bit where they were resting on their leader's laps, trying to get accustomed to the weird intrusion. Still, he wanted to continue; he could feel the weird sensation was hinting at something much greater, and frankly, he was getting a little bit frustrated, his hard leaking cock only getting to rub against Namjoon's thigh, the friction pleasant but far from enough. “But it doesn't hurt...you can keep going hyung!” That wasn't exactly a lie; sure the friction against his sensitive walls burned and stung a bit, but Jungkook wouldn't really consider this level of discomfort painful; actually it was rather welcome, he liked just the tiniest bit of pain with his pleasure. Deeming the maknae's answer good enough, Namjoon kept going, adding finger after finger, moving them around inside, scissoring them, stretching the younger's walls out properly, all the while Seokjin kept thrusting in and out of the brunette's pliant mouth, only taking breaks to let Jungkook answer Namjoon's occasional questions on how he was feeling. By the time the rapper had three fingers in, fucking the maknae's hole at a moderate pace, Seokjin was already close to reaching his climax. Pulling out to inform the young singer of that, Seokjin almost choked on his spit when the brunette answered casually: “It's fine if you come in my mouth, hyung.” This had Taehyung almost doubling over in want, whining at Namjoon who was crooking his fingers this way and that in search for the maknae's prostate. “Isn't he fine already? I really, really wanna fuck him already!” Namjoon just send his impatient dongsaeng a disapproving look, grinning triumphantly when he suddenly felt Jungkook jolt violently in his lap, the younger's body trembling in pleasure, finally having found the maknae's sweet spot. Feeling mischievous but still not wanting to push the young singer too far too quickly, he crooked his fingers up and started slowly applying pressure to the spongy gland, massaging Jungkook's prostate carefully. What he didn't expect was for the brunette to climax with a violent start, at the exact same moment Seokjin was blowing his load into the youngest's mouth, causing the maknae to almost choke on the hot, thick liquid filling his throat. Swallowing whatever he could of the bitter liquid, Jungkook broke away from Seokjin's now softening dick, coughing violently to get his airways free again, all while his body was still shaking like he was being electrified, his mind going completely blank as hot, white pleasure surged through his body, temporarily blinding him. His hyungs called out to him in worry, Namjoon lifting up the younger, who looked almost as if he was having a seizure and patting a helpful hand on the other's back to help him clear his airways. When Jungkook's coughing fit subsided, he more or less collapsed into Namjoon's arms, his whole body feeling like it was made out jelly. Eyes still glazed over from his intense orgasm, he grinned up lazily at his hyungs eyeing him worriedly, asking if he was okay. “Oh god...” Jungkook breathed, letting out a mixture between a giggle and a moan. “That felt so damn good.” His response earned some relieved sighs and chuckles from his hyungs, temporarily closing his eyes to revel at the gentle hands brushing through his hair and stroking his back. “You look quite worn out. Do you want to rest now?” Namjoon asked with a gentle smile, Seokjin humming in agreement, brushing an affectionate hand over the maknae's forehead. Jungkook's eyes shot open at that, sounding a little bit confused as he asked: “What? B-But, what about all of you? We haven't even gotten started!” Jimin shook his head with a gentle smile. “Don't worry about us, baby. We are fine. You don't have to push yourself for our sake.” The other's nodded in agreement. Despite how horny most of them still were, they all agreed that today was about the maknae and making him feel good. However, they weren't prepared for the sullen and disappointed look crossing the brunette's face at those words, his red and swollen lips forming the cutest pout. “But I want to! A-Are you saying that you don't want to fuck me anymore?” Holy shit. The pout and those puppy eyes combined with the maknae's words were a deadly combination none of his hyungs could resist. Flashing his trademark box-shaped smile, Taehyung scooted closer to press a quick but heated kiss to the younger singer's lips. “Wow, our Kookie sure got some stamina!” he teased, which Jungkook countered with a grin and a slight roll of eyes. “Four words. Two. Months. Without. Masturbation.”, he countered, making Taehyung laugh loudly. “Oh right, I forgot.”, the deep-voiced singer chuckled, pulling the other into another deep kiss. “So, do I get the honor of being the first one to plow dat ass?” Jungkook flushed deep red at the other male's words, hitting Taehyung on the head playfully. “I-If the others are okay with that..?” he answered shyly, looking up at his other hyungs sheepishly, receiving only encouraging nods in return. “Whatever you want, baby boy~” Hoseok cooed affectionately. Licking his lips, Jungkook spoke up hesitantly. “So..can I suck you off too, Hobi-hyung?” The sunshine rapper let out a deep groan in return, muttering a “Hell yes” under his breath as he knelt on the couch, lining his erect cock up with Jungkook's waiting mouth, the other hyungs making room for Taehyung to position himself behind the maknae, who was now on all fours. … Hot..he felt so hot.. How long had they been at it? Has it been ten minutes, or an hour? He couldn't tell. His mind was a complete mess. His universe was reduced to the hot, searing pleasure tearing at his insides and the steady rhythm his hyungs were setting for him, in and out, filling him up completely, leaving no part of him untouched...oh god, how he wished this could go on forever...But he was close, he was so damn close... Jungkook trembled in pleasure, filled to the brim from both ends, coming hard a for the second time time that morning, letting out a long, strangled moan, with Hoseok painting his face in hot sticky come not long after; all the while still getting fucked roughly into the sofa cushions by Taehyung. He let his shivering body collapse onto the couch, his hips only held up by the strong grip Taehyung had on them as he pummeled into the maknae, abusing the younger's prostate with every thrust, even after the brunette's climax, drawing out the other's orgasm and making him writhe in the delicious aftermath, reveling in the slight pain of his oversensitive walls still getting mercilessly abused. Jungkook let out a weak moan, saliva dripping onto the couch from his open mouth, as Taehyung finally blew his hot load inside of him, making him feel so heavenly full. He could feel the hot semen seep out as the other withdrew from within him, leaving his dripping, stretched hole empty, clenching around air. He let out a pathetic whine, wanting to be filled again, aching to be fucked until the raging fire in his body was finally quenched. He brought up a hand to wipe away a drop of come from his brow that was threatening to get into his eye, making sure he looked his hyungs in the face as he licked the digit clean thoroughly, hoping they were still as unsatisfied as he was. He didn't have to wait long though before Taehyung's place was filled by Namjoon, the leader flipping him over onto his back with a groan of “Fuck, jungkookie...”, plunging his hard, hot cock right into him without any warning, burying himself inside Jungkook to the hilt. The brunette couldn't help but let out a desperate moan, the feeling of being so completely filled was just absolutely amazing. Lifting the maknae's leg up over his shoulder, Namjoon fucked into the brunette in deep, obscenely slow thrusts, making Jungkook almost lose his mind at the way Taehyung's leftover cum was moving around inside of him, making lewd squelching noises every time the rapper pulled out, only to thrust back into him harder. It drove Jungkook almost insane, and if his body wasn't still recovering from his earlier orgasm, he would have probably come from the way Namjoon was cursing in english under his breath alone. As opposed to Taehyung's fast, harsh thrusts, Namjoon was much slower and gentler, but to Jungkook it didn't feel any less merciless. It was a completely different kind of suffering and all of his crying and begging for the elder to go faster already were completely ignored. Jungkook was positive their leader wanted him to go completely insane with want. If he was sobbing just a little bit at how good it felt, they really couldn't blame him, it was pure, heavenly torture. By the time the leader finally climaxed inside of him, Jungkook was painfully hard and desperate again, begging his hyungs to completely wreck him. In order to give the maknae's abused hole a break, Jimin decided to fuck the younger's thighs instead. They all agreed that it should be illegal for the maknae to have thighs this toned and thick, and it was quite the sexy display to see Jimin fuck his dick between them, holding the younger's legs together with one arm, while the other hand was busy thrusting round, chubby digits into the brunette's clenching hole. In the meantime, Yoongi straddled Jungkook's chest, rubbing his hard cock teasingly against Jungkook's pert nipples. The way the young singer was writhing in pleasure beneath him, looking like an absolute wreck aroused Yoongi immensely. The younger male looked so damn good with his face painted in Hoseok's think cum, and the rapper couldn't help wanting to tease the maknae when he looked up at him with such a desperate, wanton expression, gasping and whimpering from the way Jimin was thrusting between his thighs, the other's thick fingers jabbing into his prostate just right...Yoongi gave Jungkook the filthiest grin as he squeezed the other's pecs together, rubbing his dick slowly against the younger's chest. “Do you like me titty-fucking you, Kookie?” he teased with hoarse voice, the maknae's embarrassed blush and whimper only egging him on further. “Do you want my come, baby?” At this point, Jungkook had completely abandoned any shame, the endless onslaught of pleasure making him feel like he was floating on clouds. And he was so glad he got to be a good boy for his hyungs, he wanted them to wreck him even more, praise him and completely destroy him. Nodding eagerly, he let out desperate whine, trying to buck back into Jimin's heavenly hands, but the weight of Yoongi resting on his chest prevented him from moving. “I want it, I want it all in my mouth hyung, please give it to me..!” he chanted between needy moans and gasps of air. Satisfied with his answer, Yoongi finally let up from abusing his chest and scooted closer to the maknae's mouth, grinning at the way the younger was already parting his lips for him impatiently. “Then work for it, baby boy.” he crooned, allowing Jungkook to lick at his balls, while he stroked his dick with his right hand. He wasn't sure if he should feel proud or suspicious at how well the maknae was doing, sucking on of his testicles into his mouth and playing with it with his tongue. He could tell by Jimin's increasingly frantic groans that the other was coming close, having temporarily stopped fingering the younger singer in order to fuck the brunette's meaty thighs in earnest, his tight grip sure to leave bruises as he fucked himself to completion, spilling his seed all of Jungkook's sweat-glistening abs. Taking a small break to catch his breath, Jimin shuffled down on the couch to position himself between the other's legs, taking the younger's throbbing cock into his mouth and pushing the other over the edge with long, strong sucks to the sensitive head while deliberately pressing two fingers against the younger's prostate at the same time. Jungkook came into Jimin's mouth with a jolt, his body straining against Yoongi's legs as his mouth hung open in a soundless scream, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he was hit full force by his third orgasm. Yoongi starting jerking off more vigorously, reaching his climax soon after the sight of the maknae's blissed out, dazed expression. Milking his hot, sticky come into Jungkook's obediently waiting mouth, he wiped the last drops off on the brunette's plush, swollen lips, running an appraising hand through the maknae's sweat slick bangs when the younger swallowed it all without complaint. “What a good boy.” he purred and Jungkook grinned proudly in return. He loved being good for his hyungs. … Approximately 5 rounds of fucking later, they were all properly fucked out and exhausted; having wrecked their maknae on every available surface and in every imaginable position ever; with Jungkook coming a total of 7 times, the last four times being dry orgasms, because the younger didn't have a single drop of cum left to spill. Seokjin decided to it was about time to prepare breakfast; ungluing his sweaty back where it was stuck to the couch's leather, he got up and stretched languidly, ordering Hoseok to get some fresh clothes for all of them and Namjoon to bring them some wet towels, for wiping them (and the majority of the living room) clean. No way he was going to let the come stain their new carpet. Although it might have already been to late... Oh well, he resigned with a huff. They could always claim it had been milk. Ushering his dongsaengs to finally get off their asses, he was only met with tired groans. None of them wanted to leave the warm (yet admittetly sticky) cuddle pile they had formed on the couch, a mess of naked limbs and post-coital cuddles. Only when Seokjin threatened to leave the cooking to Namjoon this time, the members finally got up under exasperated groans and tired yawns. When they were finally all sat down at the kitchen table, clean, dressed and completely exhausted, Jungkook was already dozing off, leaning his head heavily onto Jimin's shoulder while Taehyung played with his hair. Their hyungs smiled fondly at the cute display, but Seokjin insisted Jungkook eat at least something before he went to bed, turning it into a proper scolding on how Jungkook really shouldn't have been neglecting his health like that, and making the maknae promise to eat more and work out less in the future, which was only met by non-comittal mumbling on the younger's side, too tired to even speak properly. So Hoseok ended up feeding the dead-tired maknae with spoonfuls of cereal like a baby, giggling at how grumpy and adorable the brunette got when he was exhausted. Jungkook ended up falling asleep at the breakfast table; his hyungs taking lots of pictures to preserve the cute moment (and tease him with later). When he finally woke up a many hours later, the sun had already started to set outside, bathing the whole room in a warm orange glow. Jungkook wasn't surprised to find himself tucked into bed comfortably, assuming one of his hyungs must have carried him to bed after he had passed out at the table. His hyungs were sweet like that, always taking care of him, especially when he was low on energy. What did surprise him though, was that he wasn't alone. There was a leg tangled between his and a heavy arm draped over his chest, aswell as a hand resting on his hip and warm breath hitting his neck. Being careful to not wake his bed companions, he groggily cracked his eyes open, blinking away the sleep as he eyed the sleeping figures left and right of him. By the looks of it, he was nestled between Yoongi and Namjoon. Due to the lack of Ryan merchandise, he assumed they must be in Yoongi's bed. Carefully propping himself up by one elbow, he tried to get up and leave for his own bed quietly, since their current set up was just the slightest bit cramped and he didn't want his hyungs to be uncomfortable because of him. But before he could fully sit up, a grumpy Yoongi wrapped an arm around his middle, pulling him back down, groaning sleepily. “Stay.” the rapper muttered hoarsely, without opening his eyes, apparently wanting to go right back to sleep. Jungkook smiled softly at his cute squishy hyung, snuggling back under the covers. Who was he to no say to that?

Need For Speed Heat PC Review

I was one of the idiots that actually bought Need for Speed 2015. It was during the first post-release sale, and many reviews seemed happy with it. Meanwhile, I had no idea that I was willingly forking over my hard-earned cash for a total, irrecoverable train wreck congealed into a game. Turns out it was not just the worst racing game I ever played: it was perhaps one of the worst games I owned.

My disgust might’ve been skewed by sentiment since I have been playing this series before I was even a teenager. Still, it was impossible to look past the spectacular mess that Electronic Arts had made with their once great franchise. NFS 2015 was so bug-ridden, so hopelessly off the mark from what it was supposed to be, that I outright refused to play Payback. A wise choice as it turns out.

Now comes Need For Speed Heat as a last chance for Ghost Games to prove they can breathe new life into a series that has been driving on fumes for far too long. Like other franchises trying to make a comeback, Heat is likewise a return to form and makes an earnest attempt to appeal to the golden age of Underground/Most Wanted. Has it been successful? Kind of… maybe. Let me explain.

A Race To Save The Franchise

The Need For Speed franchise is in a really weird place at the moment. Since the first entry in 1994 this series has repeatedly set the bar for how an arcade racing game should play, look and feel. In every game EA somehow struck a perfect balance between making games that look gorgeous enough to feel realistic, yet the driving physics never failed to offer players that addictive rush of raw speed.

The problem is that developers such as Criterion, Codemasters and Turn 10 had been paying close attention to the constituents of this golden formula. It wasn’t long before they not only perfected some of NFS’s original mechanics, but actually made it their own within their respective games.

Great to see old favorites

Furthermore, it didn’t exactly help that every new release in the NFS series seemed to be more lackluster and out of touch than the last since Ghost Games took on the mantle in 2013. Where NFS once held the throne, this well-beloved arcade veteran inevitably found itself being outrun by its competition and with too many disappointments in the portfolio to bank on fans’ nostalgia.

Thankfully, this must have been the wakeup call that both EA and the developers needed for a last chance at a NFS renaissance. If all else, the removal of everything that stood against the identity of this series, and the return of an emphasis on underground tuner culture, shows that Need For Speed Heat is, above all, a game that really wants to please and appease fans.

Feeling the Heat

With Need For Speed Heat Ghost Games have wisely decided to go back to the drawing board and focus on the most important aspect of any racing game. Not the cars, not the driving physics, and definitely not the story. Instead, they started, rather than ended, with the one thing that ties all these building blocks together: The game’s setting.

If the game was in New York, I’d bet they would have called it Skyscraper City. Great place to race in though.

Heat takes place in a tropical city located somewhere on America’s southeast seaboard, which they named Palm City. Hilarious nomenclature aside, a city close to the tropics is a great locale for hosting a racing game. Just like Paul Walker (R.I.P.) and Vin Diesel, the player can once again cannonball down the sun-scorched streets lined with palm trees in their custom tuner specials or thundering muscle cars.

Given the location it is to be expected that the game is equally capable of replacing bright, blue skies with torrential downpours which can actually give the world a totally unique feeling to more fair-weather races. Whereas NFS 2015 was so rain-soaked it was almost depressing, Heat has a pleasantly dynamic weather and time-of-day cycle that actually feels natural.

What chu gonna do, what chu gonna do when they come for you…

The day-night cycle of this tropical racing paradise has a function too. If you’re into Dexter, Bad Boys, or just turned on any television in the 80’s, you must be aware of how the cops in Miami are the ultimate badasses of the American police force. You therefore have an idea what the player is thrown into with races taking place right in the middle of their jurisdiction.

It is here that the player meets lieutenant Mercer and his band of intercepters who have taken it upon themselves to stop anything with rims and a spoiler dead in its tracks. Fortunately, they are willing to turn a blind eye towards racing in the day because these events are legit races and drifting competitions with safety barriers and closed streets in which the player can compete to earn some decent cash.

At night, however, the streets turn into a nocturnal racing haven where players have the opportunity to earn more rep than money which, you guessed it, unlocks all sorts of goodies, cars and upgrades for you to spend said cash on. Except now, the Five-0 will be utterly relentless in hunting your speeding arse down, and the player has to employ some swift driving to shake the black cruisers with flashing lights.

I used to press Alt+F4 when this happened in older games. Was seriously tempted to try it here.

The police chases play a much bigger role in Heat as opposed to the last couple of games. Your car has a set amount of damage that it can endure before being rendered immobile, at which point the player is treated to a big, red BUSTED cut scene. What makes this prospect particularly harrowing is the fact that all that rep you earned over the last hour disappears like a fart in a hurricane upon being caught.

I played the original Most Wanted at least four times, but I have misgivings about the police AI in this game because they are just a tad overpowered. Heat never really clarifies how you are supposed to shake them and my little starter Nissan rarely stood a chance during the early stages of the game.

Their ungodly acceleration and cars seemingly made from Vibranium meant that the cops never quite rose above being an annoyance. The prospect of loosing your rep does add to the tension of chases, but the lack of the ability to fight back properly meant that I was happiest to avoid police encounters altogether. Sorry folks, Hot Pursuit 2 and Most Wanted still holds the crown.

My way or the highway

My grievances with the law aside, I liked how nothing felt out of place, and every aspect of the gameplay feels like it was born from within the game’s world and setting. I could even endure the agonizingly generic plot which involves the player and a new gang of misfits sticking it to the man by starting up their own crew. For what the plot lacks in originality, it at least fits the game’s overall theme.

Pick your character, and start your crew. I am just so glad there are no fist bumps.

As for the actual racing itself, well, Heat is a mixed bag at times due to how Mr Frostbite handles driving physics. Despite Ghost Games doing what they can, this engine just doesn’t feel like it was supposed to be used in racing games. It still feels like a first-person shooter engine that has been jerry-rigged to play like a racing game.

This can get hilarious during character customization!

As such, the cars do occasionally feel a bit strange in term of how they stick to the road. Everything from my Beemer to the turbo charged Corvette had this peculiar, floaty sense of handling in terms how they move over the tarmac. It reminded me of driving a vehicle in an online, multiplayer game close to something from the Battlefield franchise.

Getting those Underground 2 vibes here

Still, the circuit races, the sprints, the tight time trials, and even the drifting make for decent auto sport and I mostly enjoyed crushing the competition. The developers have designed Heat with wide, open tracks that have no intention of breaking the player’s speed, yet the controls are responsive enough to maneuver around those unexpected sharp turns. It works, and it feels good.

The middle of the road

Heat is not exactly a huge graphical upgrade from, say, NFS 2015, or even Payback, and I felt that old Mr Frostbite should have been pushing slightly higher frame rates for what was on my screen. Yet, this is still a good looking car game no matter which way you slice it. The whole world is delightfully reactive to rain, and superb lighting adds up to some beautiful shadows and reflections, particularly at night.

On that note, I was looking forward to the awesome vehicle customisation suite making a return, and it was great to get back into it. It still lacks the freedom and scope of older entries, but it is basically impossible not to put together a bitchin’ ride. The ability to download vehicle wraps from the other players in the community is another big win here, and once again I was blown away by the creativity of some players.

Yeah I totally made thi- OUCH! – okay I downloaded this

Unfortunately, the music selection is still one area that Ghost Games needs to work on. While a few catchy reggaeton and hip-hop tracks keeps things going during the chilled moments of gameplay, the racing lacks that ‘head-banging’ factor that kicks the player’s adrenaline up one notch. Heat would have been the perfect game to benefit from a healthy injection of music with a bit more potency.

The return of Need For Speed?

Given that Need For Speed Heat finds itself at the end of a fifteen-year-old legacy, it is really difficult to review this game in isolation. From a purely objective perspective, this was most of what I could want from flashy, fast-paced, arcade racer in market that was suspiciously anemic this year. This game has been built around tried and trusted themes in its genre, and it reaps the benefits.

You can choose every time you leave the garage

On the other, Heat plays it a little too safe at times in its effort to appease fans, and probably EA’s stockholders. While I understand that Ghost Games could all but afford another flop, their palpable fear of pushing boundaries makes the gameplay feel formulaic. While this is a good racing game, it feels like many others I have played, and Heat might have a hard time standing out in public memory.

At the end of the day, Heat is definitely a sign that Need For Speed is back on track, even if the game lacks its own identity. If anything, its very existence feels like a small victory. Despite throwing all the weight of their corporate greed behind their golden boy franchise, this game serves as a harsh reminder to EA that gamers are always willing to spend on what they like.

No cringeworthy cutscenes

Nice control scheme

Great setting

Shared community content

Car selection

Not always online

Police still suck

A bit formulaic

PC Optimisation

Difficulty spikes

          PC Specs: Windows 10 64-bit computer using Nvidia GTX 1070, i5 4690K CPU, 16GB RAM – Played using an XBox One controller

The post Need For Speed Heat PC Review appeared first on DSOGaming.

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Mysteries of the Q Files

Chapter 14: Answers From the Background

Trick fumed the entire way back into town and towards Camille’s Diner. The moped puttered along and made them look like a comic duo, though their moods were anything but. Naomi’s frown was deeper than a clown’s and she finally poked Trick in the back of the head.

“Ouch! What was that for?”

“You left me at that party while you went and sucked face with that Rachel girl. Not only is she a skank and you smell like booze yourself now, but you left me by myself with a crowd of drunken idiots! If you ever do that to me again, I’ll make sure that you wish that your mom and dad were murdering you!”

“Duly noted,” Trick growled over the puttering of their ride.

“And why are you so upset? You got to make out with a bossy know-it-all like yourself at a party for the cool kids. What could you possibly have to be angry about?”

Trick hated the bitterness in her voice, but he figured that she just didn’t understand what had just happened. He tried to explain slowly.

“Okay Naomi, picture this: a boy and a girl like one another and want to get together. But there is a hold up; they are both in a relationship with other people. Rather than break it off and then hook up, these two decide to do something spectacular. You said that Billy and Tara were up on the second floor?”

Naomi nodded grimly, “The video said they were having sex at that moment.”

“The gall of those two! People expect stuff like that to happen at big parties, but they make a video about it!? What is up with this town! They made it clear to the world that they are now in a relationship and they shamed Tara’s now-ex-boyfriend. Furthermore, Billy had his cronies dunk the guy in a cold pool and then tossed garbage at him. They wanted theatrics. They want people to never forget this. It shows their power and puts everyone else in their assigned places. It gives me an idea of what happened to the others.”

“The kids we are about to meet with,” Naomi stated, her lips pursed.

“Exactly. It’s time that we got the missing story. I think that we will be able to from there find out who has been sicking these monsters on the victims,” Trick said.

“Your mother texted me by the way. She says that we need to stay out of trouble. They are about to strike at the Sphinx’s suspect.”

“They’ve got the wrong person,” Trick insisted. After what he had seen and heard, he knew that the culprit had to be a fellow student. These crazy antics would definitely send any teenager over the edge. “We’ll know after visiting the diner. Besides, we are not on the cool list. We should be pretty safe.”

“I’ll believe that when this is over,” Naomi said. “And I won’t forget this night Trick, believe me.”

“Oh joy,” he muttered under his breath.

They arrived at the diner soon enough and walked inside. It was a cozy place, with a dozen or so tables, a bar, and some booths for the patrons. There was a skinny woman with fashionable glasses behind the bar talking to a guy with a half beard in a tiger cap. He had a sketch pad in front of him and was talking animatedly as he drew and the lady chowed down on mac n’ cheese. There were a couple of high school students nearby who seemed to be eavesdropping. The walls were covered with tons of pictures of patron and posters of very nerdy stuff. A lot of it Trick did not recognize immediately or at all. Naomi on the other hand looked to be home.

“Now this is the kind of place for a proper party,” she said happily.

“If you say,” Trick shrugged.

“I do say so,” she responded, slugging him in the arm.

Trick led them to the eavesdropping kids.

“Well howdy you youths,” the lady said.

“I thought you only called Young Jed a youth,” the man in the cap said.

“There are other youths than just him, Nate,” she replied.

“Yes, but he is youthiest,” the man called Nate said with a big grin.

“Can’t argue with you there,” the lady answered. The kids started snickering. “And this is a private conversation! If you can’t respect the rules of the establishment, go and play your card games next door!”

The teens retreated further into their booth.

“Hi there,” Trick said with a wave. “Are you Camille?”

“The one and only one who should concern you,” she said around a mouthful of macaroni. “What can I do you for?”

“Are these wonderful boys and girls from the high school,” Trick asked.

“Sure are,” Camille answered.

Trick turned to them and said, “Excellent! Because we have some questions for you.”

The six teens, four boys and two girls, suddenly looked mortified. He raised his hands to placate them and continued, “Don’t worry. It won't hurt.”

“You’re that guy that Eustace was talking about,” one girl blurted.

“What do you want here,” one of the boys sneered.

“Hey! Hey! Respect! So long as they are paying customers, they are allowed here,” Camille put in sternly.

“Laying down the law,” Nate said into his drink.

“We’ll take two bowls of that tasty looking mac n’ cheese,” Trick said with his winning grin. Camille rolled her eyes at him but went off to grab the food. “Now then, I did talk to Eustace. My friend Naomi and I have been investigating what has been going on with the recent attacks on students.” Nate seemed to forget his drawing and lean backwards towards them. “We just came from the big party at Billy’s and I think I might have the case almost solved. But there are some details that only you guys can probably fill in. Are even willing to fill in.”

“Why do you say that,” a boy with thick glasses asked cautiously.

“Because after watching one guy get his life ruined tonight, I think that the same thing happened to someone, or someones, at the high school who the cool kids look down on,” Trick answered.

“Your mac,” Camille said from behind. Naomi retrieved the bowls and began shoveling the contents of both into her mouth.

Rolling his eyes, Trick continued, “I know it’s painful to relive something like that, but I need to know. Whose life did they ruin? How? How many people were there to witness it?”

The kids at the table all shared glances and the second girl finally said, “It really isn’t our place to talk about it. It’s not your business anyway.”

“It is when people start getting attacked and kidnapped,” Trick said hotly.

“Maybe they deserved it,” the sneering boy commented nastily.

“No, I don’t think they did,” Trick said. “Tonight, Tara threw her boyfriend Jason under the bus to get in Billy’s pants and they told everyone over a previously made video. This was planned, and it was vicious. I know they did something similar to other people. I need to know who. Once we have the full story, we can begin to meet out justice to those who truly deserve it.”

The kids still didn’t looked convinced. Naomi finally stepped in after swallowing her noodles. “We can pay them back in kind. I am very, very handy with computers and videos. I can make a video to get them back and in front of everyone if that is what you want. But we do need your information. If these attacks are not stopped now, where will they stop in the future? Who knows? It might just be you six next.”

Nice work, Trick thought appreciatively. “Look guys, it’s now or never. I feel it in my gut, and Naomi is right. After seeing what happened tonight, I am ready to get back at those freaks as much as any of you.”

The teens slowly nodded, except for Mr. Sneer Face, and they crammed to make further room for Naomi and Trick. Trick held up a hand and ordered more macaroni before beginning his interrogation.

“First off, where’s Eustace?”

“Cowering in the card shop, waiting for you guys to show up and go away,” Mr. Sneer Face answered.

“Okay, maybe we could tone it down from you,” Trick suggested. “I’m sorry to hear that though. I didn’t mean to frighten him so much.”

While Mr. Sneer Face tried to think of a comeback, one guy with a SlipKnot T-shirt elbowed him hard and told him to shut up as one of the girls asked, “Are you supposed to be hunters?”

“Very astute of you,” Naomi said. “Yes, yes we are.”

“Supernatural, good show,” Camille said as she brought another bowl. Naomi took it promptly.

Trick frowned at his friend but said, “Yes, yes. It is a great show. We had to dress up for the party.”

“Not really,” the kid with glasses said. “The cool kids don’t really like to dress up. They just like to get drunk.”

“I saw a couple of pirates there, though,” Naomi said. Glasses blushed and his eyebrows shot up.

Must be nervous around a cute girl, Trick surmised. “Believe me, the cool kids don’t piss gold. They are for the most part normal, just with more graced lives and with so much more to lose if their popularity wanes. Which is what Jason is learning at the moment.” He shook his head and continued. “So, who in your circle did the cool kids go after with their vicious pranks?”

There was an uncomfortable pause and finally the second girl, one with too much makeup and greasy hair answered, “Not someone from our group, though it was meant for everyone not in the cook kids’ graces. Derek and Mandy…. Derek had a total crush on Tara, and he was so into her that he knew everything about her life. He basically was a stalker, but what she did was even worse. Billy knew that Mandy liked him from afar as well. He worked with Tara and some of their friends to make a video that shown on a projector during lunch.”

The first girl cut in. “They arranged for Derek and Mandy to be with Tara and Billy and surrounded by their goons so they couldn’t escape. They were forced to watch a ten minute long video with embarrassing photos of them with terrible animations. The video made fun of both of them for liking people above their station. They called mandy a pig and Derek shut-in virgin. And well, that was probably the nicest thing they said about them. After the video, Derek was beaten up and Mandy had food thrown at her. They were both hazed for the rest of the day.”

“If this town had its priorities straight, stuff like this wouldn’t happen,” Camille seethed. “It reminds me of some jerks I knew back in college.”

“Looks who’s eavesdropping now,” Glasses smirked. He quickly ducked his head as a dirty rag came at his face.

Trick leaned back and sighed. “Well, I guess that all makes sense. Disgusting sense, but sense nonetheless.”

“I will destroy them with a fine video of my own,” Naomi promised.

“What have Derek and Mandy been up to since then,” Trick asked.

The last boy finally answered, “They’ve been hanging out a lot together. If anyone else hangs with them when the cool kids are around, those with them get hazed and teased. No one wants the same treatment those two got. So basically, they’ve been ostracized.”

He sounded sincerely sorry about it. Trick was amazed at what was going on here. Tara and Billy had successfully destroyed three people and the semester wasn’t even up yet. He wondered how many other victims they had, and who else had been punished by them quietly. He remembered Shannon and the things that were said at the burger joint. Billy and Tara were not alone in their crimes. It made him grind his teeth with anger.

“But no one really knows what’s been going on with Mandy and Derek then,” Trick pressed on. The others just shook their heads.

“Actually, they dropped by my bookstore a couple weeks back,” Nate answered. “They said they needed a book on spirits and communicating with them. It was an uncomfortable conversation, really.”

Naomi cut Trick off and asked, “Do you know about old, abandoned rooms in the high school?”

Nate didn’t answer, but Glasses did. “Sure! There’s one kinda under the theater. The thespians all know about it and a few others, but it’s really creepy. There’s no light down there, and you have to crawl through a vent to get in. People say it’s haunted. There’s a dare to break into the theater at night and try to climb into the room. No one has done it yet.”

“I wonder why,” Trick commented dryly.

“Trick, we need to get in there tonight,” Naomi said suddenly. “I think we have the lead that will take us to the close of this case!”

Before Trick could say anything his phone buzzed.

“If that is Rachel, I swear I’ll-”

“It is from Rachel, Trick said. Naomi proceeded to dump the remaining mac on his head.

“Hey! You’re cleaning that up,” Camille called angrily.

“With pleasure,” Naomi grumbled.

Trick caught her by the shoulder. His eyes were wide with what he had just read. “Naomi… We need to make it to the school now.”

“That’s what I’m say-”

“There’s been another attack. Two of them. At the party. A vampire and werewolf attacked Shannon and some boy named Bo and ran off with them. Guess where they came from.”

Naomi’s eyes widened as well. “The second floor?”

“I think we might have just solved this case,” Trick said flatly to a confused diner crowd.

Submission is Love

This title was taken verbatim from a section in a book I’ve been reading on-and-off for just under a year now entitled “Life Overflowing” by Bishop T.D. Jakes.  I received it as a gift for my birthday last year and have been reading a few pages here and there since then.  I’ve only just reached page 344 of 442.  I felt from my experiences this week it was quite appropriate that I share a few thoughts on them and the title of this post…also the timing couldn’t be better considering it’s 12:32 AM on Good Friday.

Submission.  I’ve always seen submission as utter weakness. Submitting or tapping out in MMA and wrestling is declaring, by tapping your hand on the mat or on your opponent, that you have been beaten and that you concede victory and the spoils thereof to them.  It indicates that you have essentially given up the power you possess to them.  It’s a huge deal as demonstrated in our overly competitive society: submission is scoffed at, it’s seen as embarrassing and humiliating – constantly (with men especially, but now also in female circles I’ve noticed) people are challenging each other in various different scenarios from actual physical bouts to subtle disses from people at work or even in friendship circles (no-one is perfect I suppose).  On the roads and on social media, the one-upmanship is brutal.  More power, I need MORE POWER! I need NEW, NEWER IS BETTER! I want NOW, NOW IS WHEN I WANT IT!! If I make a cutting friendly-not-friendly remark and you don’t fire back and instead submit – I pity you…at least that’s what I imagine people to feel: pity and not at all respect.  I almost always submit first time as I’m not gifted enough in the art of the clever comeback yet or I’m afraid I get so angry that I overstep the mark and say something rude.  Verbal jousting is a skill and it seems a way to build friendships though too, which is odd – guys tend to have that down pretty good.  Once a person has found a challenging opponent it makes ‘beating’ them all the more satisfying, a salve that makes the person feel better about themselves and restores the lost confidence and power initially stripped away by their insecurity.  Anyway, this can get out of hand hurting other people which perpetuates the circle of hurting begetting more hurting indefinitely.  No-one will explicitly admit to these things, but the evidence is everywhere: road rage (rage being the key word here), body shaming on social media and any verbal slight, however subtle, where a person feels threatened by the pure existence of another person that reminds them of what they could be and so feels the need to put them down so they may by default be lifted up.  

I’ve always seen submission as weakness and it is a message consistent with what the world projects. Acceptance of authority over you means giving up your power and independence, submitting means losing, submitting means allowing yourself to be used and abused and taken advantage of (if you’re not Caucasian or a born-free in South Africa then it may touch a particular set of nerves…then again if you ARE Caucasian it might touch some nerves for opposite twisted reasons…sjoe), submitting = losing.  For insecure people who feel like losers in many areas (this guy right here), and you’re forced to submit and give over your power in the last place you feel you have some control or power over: it can get ugly and everything bubbles to the surface.  Anger bursts out and the expletives shoot out like an automatic weapon with ammo for weeks…’losing it’ would be the ‘radio edit’ term for that EXPLICIT song.  I had one such incident occur this week that I’m sure would very much confuse anyone who knew I’d been a consistent church-going gent for over a year now.  It was ugly, the man (a young man in a flat peak cap) in the other vehicle was still talking on his phone while shouting at me and simultaneously piloting his car having raced past me after said ‘incident’, upset at the fact that I had moved into his lane while he had fallen asleep and dropped far behind in said lane to answer a call with one of his hands only to look up and find my car in front of his slowing down for a truck that was ahead of me.  

Anyhoo.

I was fuming, but I have asked for forgiveness on this one for reacting poorly to his raving at me, forgetting will be a tad harder.  

Deep down I assume he was angry because he really wasn’t paying full attention and couldn’t safely move to the third lane on the right immediately and had to slow down (submit) to my speed – “I’m a red-blooded Caucasian male: I submit to no-one!” Submitting = losing.

Deep down I was angry because I consider myself to be a considerate motorist, keeping left and passing right (knowing the capabilities of what I pilot these days) and for moments when slower trucks occupy the left lanes of two lane highways (we drive on the left side of the road bee-tee-dub): I move over to the left for those moving along at a more urgent pace in the right lane as soon as a safe gap appears.  Most are oblivious or don’t care and will stay in one spot forever.  Always submitting.  Always losing to self for the greater cause.  The fact that he was on my tail, couldn’t move – then hooted frantically AND proceeded to gesture rudely ticked me straight off.  Perhaps I should have stayed tortoise style and waited for a good while for him to pass, what was one more overly considerate move?  In that moment though, I was fed up.  I was done losing for nothing.  I was fed up of letting people through, doing the right thing and being trampled on because of other people’s errors of judgment.  It happens at so many levels for me right now which is why it tipped me over the edge and annihilated restraint in that moment. Somewhere deep inside, the silly mistakes I’ve been making in certain other areas of my life’s frustrations pushed the heat up. Plus the fact that I’m a person of colour who is not perhaps living to my fullest potential and possibly letting many around me down, bolsters a stereotype that looms above my kop.  Like race has anything to do with it: all these words come from my head and my perspective and what I perceive to be true which could very well be FAR from it. Who I should be (or think I should be: ambitious to a fault, a hustler, a fast driver, a smooth talker, a joker, charming, flashy, an extroverted introvert, arrogant, a commander-in-chief) is at odds with who I feel I am and want to be (a dreamer, thoughtful, a cruiser when on the long road except for the odd twisty pass, patient, kind, considerate, introverted, quietly confident, a soldier and messenger).  In that moment I was tired of submitting (what I felt it was) in all areas of life, submitting to other people’s domination of conversation, submitting to other people’s will for me, submitting to other people’s opinions of me.  I was tired of losing for some perceived, twisted greater cause, I truly wanted to win…at least in some area, because: submitting = losing.

But you see, no.  It does not.

Firstly what I perceived to be losing is not losing: it’s doing the right thing in the case of motoring. That is how it should be, it’s a submission to law, to authority and because most people do not care for authority, this doesn’t make what they do OK.  In the case of submitting to or restricting myself in conversation or following other people’s will for me to please them and so obtain validation is also misguided: I am not being a martyr, we are not meant to cower to others’ will when it goes against the commandments in the good book.  

No.

To quote a paragraph dealing with submission from the Bishop T.D. Jakes book I’ve been reading,

“It is a term that has a military connotation and indicates soldiers or troops being drawn together in order, none breaking rank, turning on each other, or walking in disobedience to those in authority over them.  So the New Testament meaning is that we are to be subject to one another in the divine callings and order in which our supreme commander, the Lord Jesus Christ, has placed in us.  We are not to assert ourselves or have a self-centred, independent spirit; but we are to accept His commission to serve humbly and in love toward one another.”

Another passage expands on this,

“Love is willing to yield. It is not selfish, demanding, or self-centred.  Lust, on the other hand, is always based upon self-need and self-gratification.  What self wants, self acts to get.  Love, in contrast, seeks not her own.  It is willing to submit.  Love is always more concerned about the care and welfare of the other person in a relationship.”

To learn what Love is from God Himself: read 1 Corinthians 13 verses 4-8.

We are here to please God by submitting to His will for our lives and to love and serve people.  If we follow Jesus’ example: He loved people and served people.  He washed His disciples’ feet.  Who are we to think we’re above serving and loving our fellow man?  I struggle to build relationships with people, if I ever do I believe this is the way to it – through the written word.  It feels almost impossible to keep relationships going around me and I know my desires of late have been to withdraw and disappear totally from view, but the Law is clear: it is a commandment from God to love my neighbour as myself, we were not made to walk alone.  It is God’s will that I follow His commandments.  Jesus submit to His Father’s will even to death, for us.

If that is not Love, then I’m not sure what is.

Thank you Lord for opening my eyes to see that until I submit to living according to your commandments and submitting to the people in authority, as commanded by You, in my life: I am living in sin and will be travelling in the opposite direction of purpose and far away from your will for me here on Earth.  I cannot expect to grow if I’m stubbornly holding on to the old man for fear of losing those I Love.  I must trust in You, You will make my paths straight.

There’s still a long way to go yet.