#*clenching my fists so hard i bleed as i try not to use the word 'hot'*

[cherry-bomb-ships]

Since I'm on this kick I need to get out this one thought thats been haunting me for weeks but a while ago me and my gf watched all 3 of the recent Planet of the Apes movies (stg its not cuz of my recent obsession), and in the last one we watched, the main ape Caesar had gray streaks of fur around his face and... yeah it definitely made me imagine Mojo with gray streaks of fur when he's older and it kinda took me out immediately 💀💖💀💖💀💖💀💖

[l1tw1ck]

Not a Suspect

Bottom!Dean x Top!Male Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,292 ☆

probably ooc/plot dependent, I haven't watched in a while 😭

CW: Non-Con, First Time Bottoming, Anal Fingering, Humiliation, Overstimulation, Semi Rough Sex, Blood Mention, Daddy Kink, Creampie

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Your hand is pressed against Dean’s neck, his back against the wall. You lifted him a few inches in the air in order to meet your eyes. You caught him snooping around your room.

“I- I thought this was my uncle’s house!” He smiles sheepishly. You're so much stronger than he is, he wasn't expecting to be put in a chokehold. “The door was unlocked so—”

“Save it. I’ve seen you and that other guy hanging around town snooping for information about that incident. You must think I’m a criminal, huh?”

“That's not the case, sir, I um—”

“Did you come to that conclusion after you searched my things?” You click your tongue then look him up and down. “I’ll let this slide though. As long as you make it up to me.”

“I uh, I have forty dollars-”

“Hmm.” You place him on the ground and turn him around. You grab his wallet from his back pocket and find an ID. Your old jobs gave you the skill of knowing what's fake and what's real. “Of course. I knew you weren't a real detective.” You laugh.

“I’m an undercover investigator!”

“Uh huh.” You find a secret pocket and find his real ID. “There we go. Dean Winchester.”

Dean’s ears burn red. He can't believe he's in this situation and that he can't fight back, something about this is making him feel timid. Sam warned him not to do this but he didn't think he'd feel so helpless against you. He’s fought much stronger and scarier creatures than you but it's different when it comes to humans. You can't figure out their motives so easily.

You drop his wallet and lean over, unbuckling his belt then forcefully pulling his pants down. “Hey! What are you doing?!” He flails around defiantly.

“Stop moving.” You use his belt to tie his wrists together.

“I’m not gay!”

“You really think I care, sweetheart?” You pull down his boxers. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself.” You spread his ass open and spit on his rim before forcefully shoving a finger inside him.

“Fuck!” He cries out. “Stop!”

You chuckle. “I know your type. You gag at the mere idea of having sex with another guy.” You force another finger inside him and start stretching him out. “Then, once you do, you love it like the little slut you really are. Trust me.”

His entire face is red with humiliation. “You're wrong.”

“We’ll see about that.” You find his prostate. Dean moans, his knees buckling. If it weren't for your hand on his waist, he’d probably fall. “There it is.” You say gently, your husky voice making him feel strange. You continue to prod at his prostate, reveling in his strained whimpers. He’s trying so hard not to make a sound. He clenches his fists and aggressively bites down on his lip as you continue to pleasure him, although he doesn't want to admit that.

He will admit that it hurts. A lot. Dean rests his forehead on the wall. He hates how good it feels despite everything, your thick fingers stretch him out so well. His face is so hot it feels like he has a fever. “Ah–” Dean gasps. “No- no—” He shuts his eyes tightly and lets out a muffled moan as he comes, splattering the wall with his cum.

“Good boy~” You praise him, slowly sliding your fingers out. It feels like Dean’s head is going to explode. “I’m a little too impatient to keep going.”

Dean gulps at the sound of your belt falling to the ground and your fly being unzipped. There's nothing he can do to stop you. You take out your hard length and press the tip against his rim. You lick your lips and begin to force yourself inside. “You're tight, baby.” You groan, pressing your chin on his shoulder. His palms begin to bleed from how tightly he's clenching his fists, it's too painful for him.

“Fuck—” He breathes out. You're big.

“It hurts, doesn't it?” You coo, reaching out for his weeping cock. “Let me help you.”

Dean moans as you begin to roughly stroke his dick. “Sto- stop–” A single tear runs down his cheek. You're reaching so far inside him. He rolls his eyes back as you bring him closer to his climax.

“It’s all in, baby.” You bottom out. “How’s it feel?”

“It fucking hurts–” He hisses, more tears running down his cheeks. “You bastard– ah~!” He comes once again.

“You're cute when you whine.” You slowly pull back then shove your cock back inside. Dean rolls his eyes back and lets out a slutty sounding moan. You grin and start thrusting in and out of him at a steady pace. You look at his beat red face, his mouth remaining open to let out his pathetic moans. “‘S good, isn't it?”

Dean shakes his head despite his body betraying him. “No- No~!”

“You're not good at lying.” You place your hand on his throat, lifting his head up. “Admit it. You like getting fucked.”

He bites down on his lip and rips a bit of skin, blood trickling down. You lean in closer and lick up his blood. “You like how Daddy spreads open your tight hole, don't you, baby?”

He lets out a muffled whimper, his cock weakly spurting out another rope of cum.

You chuckle. “I know I’m right.” You let go of his neck and stroke his dick again. “You’re just a pretty little cock whore.”

“Nnh- No-” He moans. Dean is well aware of the fact that his lies are completely unbelievable. He doesn't want to like this at all.

“Yeah? You really think you're not? You think you're not into this?” You laugh again. “No, Dean, you're a slut who loves taking cock. You love how it feels to have a cock in your ass. Admit it.”

“I don't- I don-” He pauses, drool spilling from his lips as you stroke his sensitive cock.

“Be honest, slut.” You rub the tip of his length with your thumb. Dean has another orgasm. He…He really does like it.

He whimpers adorably. “Don't…Don’t stop.”

“That’s what I thought.” You say smugly, smirking. He shivers. You let go of his poor length and pull out. You turn him around and lift him up by his thighs, pushing his back against the wall. He looks at you in embarrassment as you slide your length back inside him and roughly fuck him.

Dean moans more freely than before, his eyelashes fluttering like a hand fan. He wraps his arms around you for stability. “Fuck~! Wai- wait~!” He gasps.

“I can't control myself, your cunt feels too fucking good.”

He mewls. You lean in and sloppily make out with him. You’re driving him insane. You slide your hand up underneath his shirt and rub your thumb against his nipple. He moans into your mouth. His nipples have always been sensitive but it feels even better in this situation.

You pull away and let out a groan. “Gonna come, sweetheart, right in this tight ass of yours.”

“Mmh- yes~” Dean really feels like a slut now. You were right.

You chuckle and let out a low sound of pleasure as your thrusts slow to a halt, your cock spurting hot ropes of cum into his cunt. “There you go, getting your ass stuffed is a much better job for you.” You pull out and drop him onto your bed. “Should I call you a cab?”

He shakes his head. He doesn't want to leave. “Can I stay?”

You chuckle. “Sure. And you know what? I know a few things about that incident you're looking into.”

[redstarwriting]

the clash | viii. love you to death

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 4.2k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, venom hating hobie, anxious and sad hobie, panic attacks, fight scene, injuries, lots of injuries, angst with fluff and then some more angst and then fluff again, mentions of blood, broken bones

a/n: y’all.... this one was so fun HAHA i’ve been seeing scenes from this part play out in my head ever since i thought of the plot so it was so so SO fun putting it into actual words. we’re getting closer to the end now, and i am so grateful for everyone who decided they wanted to read this lil story i thought up 🖤 i hope you enjoy!

previous chapter: vii. i wanna be sedated

now reading: viii. love you to death

next chapter: ix. last caress

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“Uh, Hobie… the hell is happening right now,” Miles asks, but Hobie stays silent. He’s trying so hard not to freak out. It’s taking everything in him to not give in to his emotions. He clenches his fists. “Let ‘em go,” he demands, and Venom laughs. “I don’t think so. I like this body more than I expected to. Looks like we’re in the same boat there, aren’t we?”

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, an all too familiar anger stirring in him. “Awww, are you going to kill me like you did yourself?” Venom giggles, and he glares at it. “Just fuckin’ might, mate,” he says through gritted teeth, and Gwen pipes up. “What? Hobie, what are they talking about?”

“Piss off, Gwen. That’s not them,” he snaps, and she frowns underneath her mask. “We’re here to help you Hobie,” she says, and he clenches his jaw. “I don’t need no help.”

“On the contrary, I think you need all the help you can get. You mess up everything when you don’t have it, no?” Venom says, amused. Hobie knows it’s just trying to antagonize him. He knows that. But he can’t help but get angry. It’s using your body.

But he also knows that he does need help. He just can’t say his plan in front of this freakshow. “Go back to Spider Society, Gwen,” he touches his guitar, “tell Miguel I got it under control. Just gonna amp up this space slime a bit.” He hopes that was a clear indication of what he needs Gwen to do.

“Are you sure?” she asks slowly, and he smirks. She got it. “Positive.” With that, Gwen, Miles, and Pav disappear. If Hobie gets as many amps as possible, he can repeat what he did with Osborn and save you. Of course, the act of destroying this Venom might require more than just noise and be a little harder, but he’s willing to do anything to save you.

Anything.

Venom laughs. “That was a dumb move, what you just did,” it says, and he shrugs. “Yeah well, I’m full of those lately,” he responds, trying to think of his next move. He doesn’t want to destroy your flat, but he doesn’t want to cause too much damage to the city as a whole. “Are you going to do something, or do you prefer I kill you just standing there?” Venom asks, and Hobie scoffs. “Kill me? You’re a cheeky alien, you are,” he says, and he leaps off of the balcony. Venom follows him. He begins webbing through the city, expertly. Honestly, it’s a good thing he’s been here to see you so many times. But Venom keeps up with him, occasionally shooting out some symbiote webs at him. Luckily, he’s able to see it and dodge them with no problem.

He sees a giant arena and decides that’s a good place to fight Venom. Especially as it was all dark and he saw a sign talking about a celebration there for tomorrow, which means everything was most likely set up already and he didn’t have to worry about anyone being there since the event wasn’t until tomorrow.

He webs into it, landing in the nose bleeds and disappearing into the shadows. He hears Venom land where he was with a chuckle. “You can’t outrun me, Spider-Punk,” it says, and Hobie quietly webs down a few levels and ducks into a closed clothing store in the arena. He calls Gwen, who picks up almost immediately. “Shh,” Hobie says before she can say anything. “Bring the amps to the Mortician Square Garden Arena, line ‘em across the top, I’ll keep Venom distracted til you finish,” he whispers, and Gwen nods. “And one more thing. Get as much as you can out of (Y/n)’s flat, okay? Get Shadow out, take him to Miguel, and all the vinyls, their aunt’s skull, as much as you can,” he whispers, and she gives him a confused look. “Why?” she asks, and he sighs. “Their world isn’t gonna make it,” he says, and Gwen’s eyes widen. She mumbles a quick ‘got it,’ before hanging up.

He sits in the silence, confused as to why he doesn’t feel any presence. Suddenly, an inky tendril shoots out at him, and grabs him, pinning his arms to his sides. He mutters expletives, trying to get out of Venom’s grasp, but to no avail. He comes face to face with the grinning monster. “Found you.”

“Fuck you, mate,” he grunts, and thrashes around. “I thought you would be more difficult to catch. Looks like I was wrong,” it says and Hobie rolls his eyes. “Woulda been harder, bu–”

“But your little sense trick doesn’t work on me. That’s how I caught (Y/n), too,” says Venom as they pull Hobie’s mask off. Hobie glares at them and tries to get out of its grip again. “They’re right… you are handsome,” Venom says, and he delivers a successful kick to the symbiote. “Get out of their head,” he growls, and it giggles. “That tickled.”

Venom throws him across the room with force. He flies through a wall and groans as he stands up. Venom shoots out a tendril to catch him again, but he successfully dodges it. “If only you could hear their pleas for me to leave you alone,” Venom says, and it makes Hobie angrier. “I said get out of their head!” He yells, throwing a giant chunk of concrete at Venom only to have it shatter when it comes into contact with it. It only slightly falters, but that enough time for Hobie to quickly web away. He just needs to keep Venom preoccupied while Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr set up the first part of the plan.

He hears Venom following him, taunting him, and consistently trying to grab at him. As long as he keeps Venom from seeing outside, everything should go off just fine. He just hopes Miles, Gwen, and Pav can let him know when to go outside with Venom close behind. Ah well. Improvising is what spiders do best, anyways. Hobie is swinging past a food booth when Venom hits him into it. He winces as he crashes through the wall separating the front from the kitchen and straight into the knobs on the giant grill. Of course, it turns the electric grill on, but that’s the least of Hobie’s worries as Venom then uses one of its “webs” to pin him down on the ground. He grabs the web and tries to get it off of him, but it doesn’t work. Venom sprouts tendrils that make it literally look like a spider, with “legs” coming out of its back.

Luckily, Venom places one of these legs on top of the already hot grill, causing it to scream out in pain and freak out just enough for Hobie to get out of the “web’s” grasp. He quickly runs off, shooting out a web to disappear out of Venom’s sight. He sneaks around to the outside and sees Pav pushing an amp in place. It looks like they’re about halfway done, and Hobie nods. He can keep that thing distracted for that much longer.

He sneaks back into the indoor part of the stadium. He thinks about it, but ultimately decides he’s had enough with the stealth method. It obviously isn’t helping him in this instance, like it ever helped him before. “HEY VENOM! COME GET ME YA FUCKIN’ TOSSER!” he yells, and to his expectation, Venom burst through a wall and screams at him. Hobie shoots a web upwards and leaps up to the next story. Venom bursts through the floor, and Hobie quickly fires a web at a pillar, wrapping around it a few times and then firing another one to another pillar and tying them together tightly before taking off and doing it again to the next set of pillars, and then repeating it again. He made sure the first trap would land in the middle of Venom’s body, the second more of a tripwire, and the third at clothesline level. And it worked.

Venom ran directly into the first trap, which slowed it down, and then the second made it stumble and the third snapped its head back at a gross angle. It groans, and Hobie waves at it. “You should really watch where ya goin’,” he says, and Venom growls. “They feel everything.”

“What?” Hobie falters. “Your little partner. They feel it all.” Hobie frowns. Is that true? Did he just hurt you? Venom senses his distraction, and grabs him, pushing him down through the floor. He grunts, and Venom laughs. “It’s too easy,” it says, and Hobie glares at it. He’s trying to pretend like he isn’t completely battered and bruised by Venom, but damn. This alien can fight. He grunts as Venom picks him up off the ground and pushes him forcefully against the wall. “Aww, did that hurt?” Venom giggles, and he spits on it. He ignores that there was blood mixed in with the spit. That’s… probably not good, though. Venom smiles at him. “I don’t think I am going to kill you,” it hisses, cocking its head to the side. “I think I’ll keep you in case this body breaks.”

“Piss off, I’d never let you do that to me.”

“Even if it meant I would let (Y/n) go?” it asks, and Hobie clenches his jaw. Venom giggles. “Say I let them go, they could run free without the influence of me. Would you do it then?” Hobie clenches his fists, staying quiet. “You’d just make me kill them.”

“Clever boy,” it says, and Hobie yelps as Venom tightens its grip on him. “But you’re right. This body will do just fine, and I can easily find a new host if I need to,” Venom says, smirking at Hobie, “I’ll be kind to you before I kill you,” Venom says, and suddenly Venom’s creepy and unsettling grin melts away, and Hobie sees your face. You’ve been crying, and that sight alone breaks his heart. And your heart breaks at the sight of his bloodied lip, black eye and cut forehead. “I’m sorry,” you whisper to each other at the same time, but before any more words can be said, Venom takes over again.

Hobie tries to get out of its grasp again, but it's not happening. “Interesting choice for your last words,” Venom forms a fist, ready to strike Hobie, but before it can, it’s arm gets pulled backward by another web. “Those will not be his last words,” he hears Pavitr say. “Yeah, his last words will probably be ‘I DON’T AGREE WITH PEACEFUL PROTESTS’ or some shit,” Miles chimes in, webbing the arm holding Hobie against the wall and yanking it away from him. “I was thinking more like ‘I won’t let you hurt them!’ because I mean wow look at how unhinged he is right now! Imagine when they’re actually together,” Pav says. “Not the time, Pav,” Miles shakes his head, yanking Venom’s arm, even more, to make it parallel to the arm Pavitr’s holding back.

Pavitr and Miles hold Venom’s arms back as it shrieks and Hobie leaps away from it. “Good timin’, lads,” he says, wiping some of the blood off his face. “Don’t mention it,” Miles grunts and Hobie dodges some attacks thrown by Venom’s tendrils. “Miles! It’s sensitive to heat!” Hobie yells, and Miles smirks. “Ahhhh, I gotcha,” he says and uses his venom electricity strike. Venom yelps and falls backward. Pav and Miles let go of its arms, and the three of them crouch down. “Where’s Gwen?”

“She’s outside getting all the chords connected so all the amps play at once,” Miles says after electrocuting Venom again, meaning it didn’t hear what Miles just said. “Amazin’,” Hobie mumbles, dodging some more of Venom’s attacks. “I’m gonna get up there, stall it woulda?” Hobie says, webbing away.

He knows Venom is going to try and follow him, so he heads out to the open field. When he gets out there, he sees rows and rows of fireworks. What the hell were they celebrating that they needed this much fire power? He hears Venom’s yell and decides it’s not important, but it’s good that all of it is there. They can use that. He climbs and webs his way up to the top of the stadium, running over to Gwen who hands him the chord. “Thank you,” he says, plugging his guitar in, and she nods. “Don’t mention it.”

“Did you get everything out of their flat?”

“As much as we could. How do you know it’s the end?” she asks, and he frowns. “Cause I caused it.” He looks down, clenching his jaw and clearing his throat.

“It’s bout to get real loud. Tell Miles and Pav to lure it out,” Hobie says, and Gwen nods, about to web off. “Wait! Gwen, throw all the fireworks in a big pile,” he says, pointing to all of the fireworks. “What? Why?”

“Venom is sensitive to heat. Let’s blow it up.”

“But (Y/n) is–”

“They won’t be bonded when it happens, go!” Hobie says, and Gwen hurries to help the boys lure Venom out into the open. Hobie watches and waits, when he hears police sirens going off. Oh great. Piggies are coming to play. Maybe Venom will eat some of them. That would be the only time he ever supported Venom doing something. His attention gets pulled back to the field when he hears Venom’s shrieks. He sees Pav and Gwen web out, starting to throw the fireworks into a pile, and then Venom stumbles out, screaming from Miles electrocuting it once again. Hobie pulls out his pick, placing his fingers to form the beginning chord to one of his favorite songs. He hesitates and places his fingers to form a different chord. This time, it’s one of your favorite songs. He knows all of them by heart, anyways.

“When did you learn this song?” you ask him, as he lazily strums along to one of the songs playing on your vinyl player. He shrugs. “I hear it so much when I come over here, the real question would be when didn’t I learn this song,” he says, and you roll your eyes. He smiles slightly when he sees you swaying back and forth and humming along to the music.

The song ends, and without a beat, Hobie starts strumming along to the next one. “I must listen to this vinyl way too much,” you comment, and he shrugs. “At least it isn’t a shit album.”

Watching you vibe with his playing made him make a promise to himself, he would always learn your favorite songs just so he could see your reaction to him playing them.

How didn’t he realize his feelings before?

Venom spots him, and screams up at him, ready to rush up the seats of the stadium and take him down. He takes a deep breath.

“Come back to me, love.”

He strums, and the sound causes Venom to stumble, holding its ears while it screams. He can see Gwen, Pav, and Miles wince slightly from the noise as they finish bringing all the fireworks into a pile in the middle of the stadium. They web up to where Hobie is and turn to see what happens. Hobie doesn’t acknowledge them, his main focus is on you. Venom’s skin starts bubbling around you, and it seems to literally be melting. He sees flashes of you, the pain affecting you in the same way as Venom. It nearly makes him stop playing seeing the distress on your face. But he remembers it’s the symbiote causing you the pain, and he needs to get it off of you as soon as possible. The position Venom is in, trying desperately to cover its ears suddenly breaks as you finally regain control of your own body. You rip some of the symbiote off, your face breaking through. Hobie keeps playing, fixated on you as you crawl away from the inky black alien. It looks straight out of a horror movie, and he can’t wait to tell you about it. You’re gonna think you looked so cool. He’ll still give you some playful shit about how you looked though. It wouldn’t be the same if he didn’t.

He nearly tears up when he sees you completely separate from Venom. You look up, seeing him and the others, and immediately web up to him. You’re in your suit, but your mask isn’t on, and Hobie stops playing seeing that you’re next to him. You immediately wrap your arms around him, hugging him like your life depended on it. He hugs back, somehow tighter than you are. “I’m so sorry,” you whisper, and he shakes his head. “No, love, you’re okay. You don’t have to apologize for nothin’,” he says, rubbing his hand up and down your back. If the two of you could choose, you would stay like this forever. But the two of you are spiders. And it never works out like that for spiders.

“HOBIE LOOK OUT!”

Hobie hears Gwen shout just a second too late, and one of Venom’s “webs” attaches itself to his back, pulling him off the edge of the stadium. You reach your hand out to prevent it, and Hobie reaches out his, but you just weren’t fast enough. Your fingertips brush each other, but before you can grab his hand, he’s out of reach. You watch as he gets pulled down to the bottom of the stadium.

For the second time, you weren’t fast enough.

You get flashbacks to your second canon event, and a single tear escapes your eye.

Hobie, on the other hand, can feel Venom overtake him, no matter how hard he tries to fight it off. He starts to panic, hearing Miguel’s voice in his mind.

“Hobart Brown was meant to kill (Y/n) (L/n).”

Now the tears are falling freely down his face. This can’t be happening. He can’t let this happen. Why is this happening?

Once the shock of what happened passes, you find yourself pissed off. You just got back to Hobie, and now this alien thinks it can take him away? Fuck that. You scream out of frustration, webbing down and punching Venom’s newly formed face, full force. Well, as full force as your exhausted body will let you. You feel your hand break from your own strength coming into contact with something equally as strong, but Venom falls backward, so you don’t really care. You ignore the pain, noticing the pile of fireworks. You understand the assignment immediately. Unfortunately for you, Venom bounces back faster than you thought and punches you in the stomach. You grunt, coughing up blood, as you fly backward and hit the side of the stadium wall, hard. You glare at Venom, who laughs. “So weak,” you hear it say, and you glare at it. “Maybe if I should have drained more of your life force. Then you wouldn’t have even been able to punch me like that. Though, I know it took up more energy than you would have liked to do so,” Venom roars at you, beginning to charge at you.

You web to the other side of the stadium as Miles jumps down. “I got it,” he says, electrocuting Venom once more to slow it down. It screams and swats him out of the way. He hits the wall, and shakes his head, webbing up to Gwen and Pav, who immediately assesses the damage he got from Venom’s hit. They notice you’re up here, too now. “You are just so fast,” Pav says, impressed. “Oh my god, (Y/n), your hand,” she says, seeing it already turning black and blue, and blood pouring from it. “Not important right now,” you growl, picking up Hobie’s guitar. Luckily, your strumming hand is the hand that broke, so you form your fingers to a specific chord and strum. You play Hobie’s favorite song, the one he taught you to try and show you ‘real music’ so long ago.

“Ugh, can’t we listen to something other than your moody goth music?” Hobie asks, lazily turning his head towards you as he laid on his couch. Gwen, Pav, and Miles left like 30 minutes ago, but Shadow was too comfortable on Hobie’s chest for him to leave. “No, actually, we can’t. And don’t act like this song isn’t the best thing you’ve ever heard.”

“Listen just cause it’s your favorite doesn’t mean it has to be mine, love,” he says, causing you to roll your eyes. “You’re such an asshole, Hobart.”

“It’s part of my charm,” he says and you fake gag. At the sound, Shadow hops off Hobie and makes his way to you, making sure you’re okay. “Alright, you can leave now. Yayy, Shadow! Wooo!” you say, petting your cat and pretending like you want Hobie to leave. He clicks his tongue. “Nah, I’m not goin’ nowhere. Come here,” he says pulling his guitar from behind the couch and into his arms. “What are you doing?”

“I’m showing you real music. So, sit down, shut up, and soak up the jams.”

You play through the pain, doing the exact thing he did when he first showed you. Albeit not as good as him. But it works, he breaks away from Venom, running, climbing, and webbing as fast as he can to get to you. And seeing the sight of you playing the guitar like that? Especially his favorite song? He could have fainted if he wasn’t worried you’d die immediately after he did. He sees your hand and frowns. “Give me the guitar, love,” he says, taking it out of your hands gently, and picking up where you left off. Except he quickly fades into one of your songs. You smile slightly and look at him. He gives you a small smile back. “Hobie, you have your lighter?” you ask, and he nods. “I’m gonna go down there and convince it to come to the fireworks pile. When I say, throw me your lighter,” you say. “Kick its fuckin’ ass, (Y/n),” he says, as you leap off the top of the stadium.

The four spiders up top suddenly hear a police bullhorn. “We have you surrounded. Hands up or we will resort to using force!”

Hobie turns his guitar up louder.

You web down, purposely aiming to kick Venom closer to the fireworks pile. You hit the ground and roll, landing in a crouch before standing and sprinting to the pile. You scream Hobie’s name, and he throws you his lighter. He stops playing, seeing that it needs to be able to actually move to get to the pile. You web up a story, catching it before rolling back down on the ground. Venom shrieks in its symbiote form, and comes rushing toward you, but you quickly ignite the lighter, throwing it on the pile of fireworks. You leap on top of it, ensuring that Venom will be in the line of fire, and when the first one begins going off as Venom tries desperately to climb it and get to you, you web off it as fast as you can. Hobie watches as you get halfway up before all of the fireworks go off at once.

He hears Venom’s screams, but all he can focus on is watching you as the explosion breaks your web and propels you way higher than you should have gone. He quickly uses his left hand to web a building close by and his right hand to another one and slingshots himself up to you. He catches you in midair, cradling you to his body and webbing to another building. Luckily, Mortician Square Garden was close to the Ember Stake Building, your favorite spot in all of the city. He lands, crouching down and holding you in his arms in a way that your legs are resting on the building. You lean your head against his chest, and he gently places a hand on the side of your face. “Alright, love?” he mumbles, and you give him a small, weak smile. “’m tired, Hobie.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he says, running his thumb back and forth across your cheek. “Bet I looked cool just then, though,” you say, and Hobie chuckles. “Dunno. Think you need to work on your form,” he says, and you laugh softly. “You played my favorite,” you mumble, and he nods. “You played mine.”

“Not very well.”

“I would listen to that every day of my life, love.” You turn your head slightly to see the amount of fireworks lighting up the night sky. Hobie stays looking at you. “Looks pretty,” you mutter, and he grins. “Yeah. Sure does,” he says, ignoring the fireworks completely. “Reckon I get you somewhere safe to rest?” he says, and you nod softly. “I’d like that,” you mumble, turning your head back to him. The two of you stare at each other for a moment, not saying anything. He looks up, standing and helping you stand as well. He gently turns you to see your city, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I gotta admit. I do like it here,” he whispers in your ear. You smile softly, looking out at the city from your favorite spot. After getting a good look, you feel your legs about to give out as your eyes flutter closed. He catches you before you fall and is grateful you stopped looking when you did because he starts to see the nothingness begin to claim your world. You hear Hobie very quietly say, “I’ve got you, my love.”

Then everything fades to black.

───────────────────────────────

『 tag list 』

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*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

if you asked to be on the taglist and i forgot, i’m sorry :( feel free to leave a comment on this or message me separately and i’ll get you right onto it!

[maybankxw]

EASE

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings: mature content ahead! [ abuse; unprotected sex; ] minors dni!!!

summary: jj is seeking shelter and comfort away from his dad

word count: 1.3k

a/n: y'all enjoy <3

links: masterlist / taglist / ask box

any feedback (comments, reblogs, anon asks) would be appreciated!

“Mind me staying the night?” “Course not.”

I squeezed my phone, slipping off the couch, tugging my black dress down, concerned, walking in the direction of my porch. It was around six in the evening, the sun started to set down, lighting up everything with a golden glow. My leg bounced anxiously as I kept flipping my phone, minutes stretched into hours and the wait was unbearable. I knew something happened. Again. A tall frame appeared on the horizon, coming closer. I leapt up to my feet, freezing on the spot, staring at JJ’s face. His eyes were fixed on the floor, lip bleeding, cheek wounded and scratched, knuckles skinned as he released his clenched fists.

“I’m fine,” he rasped, closing the distance between us, leaning in to pant a soft kiss on my forehead, our eyes closed, his brawny arms wrapped around me.

“I see,” I murmured back, resting my palms on his chest, feeling the heat of his body searing through me.

“It’s okay.”

He led me in, then followed my steps into the house. I rushed to the kitchen, searching for medication.

“Take your clothes off, I’ll put it in the laundry,” I called out, pawing for a bottle of alcohol and some napkins in a cabinet. Back to the living room I spotted him on a couch still fully clothed examining his hands.

“J, take your shirt off, it needs a wash.”

His dark blue eyes lifted up to stare at me for a good minute, then hesitantly, he pulled the shirt over and dropped it down the floor, making me swallow thickly. His whole

left side of the body was bruised.

“It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before,” he muttered, shifting in his seat.

I settled down next to him, wetting the napkin in alcohol, grasping JJ’s face tilting it to the side a little, “This is gonna sting.”

His face shrunk in pain and he hissed as I slowly applied the cloth on the wounds on his cheek and his lip, “Shh, hold on, I need to take care of this, please.”

He was quiet, I saw tears forming in the corners of his eyes, I pressed one gentle kiss to the untouched side of his face, stroking his hair, then my gaze fell to the bruising on his ribs. My fingers faintly brushed the sensitive skin, now I was the one with tears in my eyes, that started scattering down my face, “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, trying to look up at him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he stared at me, wiping my tears away with his thumb, “I’ll be fine, just didn’t want to stay there tonight.”

“Come live here,” I straightened up, pleading, holding his hands in mine’s, “Parents aren’t home for another month, but they wouldn’t mind anyway.”

He shook his head in denial, “Don’t want to put you in danger.”

“You wouldn’t.”

When I finished cleaning up all the cuts, I sent him to the bathroom, only to realise I haven’t gotten him a towel. 

“JJ, I—“ I froze in the entrance at the picture in front of my eyes, watching him through a misty glass, water dripped off his hair, which messily hung low as he poured down some shampoo, muscles in his back flexed, drops of water scattered down his naked ass and as he washed the bubbles off, his head carefully turned back to see me staring.

A grin formed on his lips, glass door opened and he pulled me into the shower just as I was. 

My dress got soaked in moments, but he clung to my waist, pressing himself against me, making my stomach flutter. I could feel him get hard, his face inches away from mine as we shared the same air, “Can I kiss you?” he whispered, “I really wanna kiss you.”

His mouth caught my upper lip briefly and feathery, then it deepened as he realised I didn’t resist him. He started kissing me properly, driven by desire, pushing me towards the wall, slipping his tongue in my mouth, moaning at the taste of me and the pain I so desperately tried to soothe. I tangled my fingers in his wet hair, wiping them off his forehead, travelling lower to hold his cheek, “Are you okay? You sound like you’re hurting.”

“I sound like I wanna fuck you right here, right now. Wanna make you feel good.”

“Do it then,” I dared, biting on my lip to suppress a grin growing on my face. His mood definitely shifted, he didn’t seem to be worried about his dad anymore, not at the moment at least. 

Blue eyes darkened as he stared at my face, gripping the edges of my dress, pulling it over my head and throwing it to soak on the floor, then he dropped to his knees meanwhile holding my gaze, his head turned up now.

“Thank you for taking such a good care of me,” he spoke, planting a gentle kiss on my stomach, making me purse my lips and grasp his hair. His fingers looped in my panties and he slowly dragged them down, peppering kisses down my thighs to my knees, “You’re the best thing that happened to me. Ever.” His mouth landed on my clit as he sucked it in, forcing a moan to slip out of me, his tongue delved in between my folds, his hands pushing my legs further apart. I felt him smiling.

“Promise,” another hot lick followed as his eyes searched for mine while I struggled to breathe normally, “I’ll try to take a good care of you too. As much as I’m capable of.” In a moment he was back up, towering over me, his hands skimmed my sides, my chest, my ass, his lips parted waiting to kiss me again. Instead he swiftly swivelled me around, bending me over, his huge palm rested on my lower back as his free hand was stoking his cock. He slid the tip against the inner side of my thigh and then sunk in me in one torturously slow push, causing me to cry out.

“That alright?” his hips flexed as he started moving back and forth in a steady pace, leaning down to me, his nose buried in my hair. “Mhm,” I whined, desperately grasping his thighs, scratching them as he pushed to the hilt and backed away, holding me by my stomach, the rings he was wearing stung me as he tightened his grip.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” his rasp lingered in my ear as his head levelled the side of my neck, “Can I have you like this forever?”

His thrusts lengthened, lips roamed my shoulder, my arm as he pressed my clit and let go, making me moan. Loud.

“Yeah,” I gasped, pathetically trying to brace myself on the wall, “Oh god, JJ—“

“Are you coming?” his movements became rougher and faster, his fingers squeezed my ass as he fucked me relentlessly, the sound of running water wrapping up over my moans.

“Yes, don’t —“ I pawed for his leg again, my arms stretched behind, “Don’t stop.”

The pads of his fingers returned back to my clit, a few little strokes were enough to send me into a bliss. My head went dizzy, my body weakened as my thighs shook, but he held me, fucking me through my high.

A loud groan came out of his mouth as I felt him twitching, his movements became sloppier and after a few more thrusts he pulled out, cumming all over my lower back. The drops of thick warm liquid contrasted with cool water. Huge palms grabbed my sides, he propped me up and started washing me up with water at first, then added some shower cream, rubbing it all over my body, spinning me over to face him again.

“I actually do want to come live here.”

A smile tugged on my lips as my arms wound around his neck, “I want you to come live here,” I mumbled in his ear, my voice muffled, then I backed away staring into his eyes, “I’d rather take care of you in any other way possible than to witness you being abused.”

[mikobeautifulheart]

Calling you their girlfriend

When your not actually together (yet). *Not proof read

(Btw use of the word girlfriend and mentions of death and corpses.)

INCLUDING: Megumi and Yuji

~Megumi~

You slowly opened your eyes and started to pull your stuff together. You stood up, not paying attention to the large gash on your leg bleeding out.

Instead you let out a sigh and walked past what was left of Nanami's body, You made your way through Shibuya station before setting your eyes on the unconscious body of Megumi. You leaned down and slung his arm around the back of your neck. Being totally honest you didn't even know if Megumi was alive, regardless you were going to get Megumi ('s body) out of there.

It was hard, he was taller and heavier then you but you still somewhat dragged his body out of there only to be met with Ichiji's corps on the floor. You kept staring at it until you felt Megumi's weight leave you, making you turn your head to see Shoko and other sorcerers attending to peoples wounds.

"Y/n are you okay? Y/n?"

You heard her voice fine but all you did was stare at her, empty and exhausted.

"Make sure Megumi's alright" Was the last thing you remember before blacking out.

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

"No, you HAVE to let me see her"

It was a familiar low voice, one you were fond of.

"Sorry but she's in no condition to see visitors right now."

"Will she die if she sees me?"

"No but-"

Yeah it was Megumi's voice, that means he is okay then.

"Then i'm going in"

The door slowly slid open and that was the first time you opened your eyes after Shibuya. The thought of Megumi coming to visit you made your head spin (in the good way) even if he did come out of curiosity at least it meant he sort of cared about you.

"We can't just let anyone get in there"

"She's my girlfriend" he said agitated.

Your heart started pumping and your cheeks were pink. No that couldn't be Megumi then, it was probably a dream. There was nothing between you guys other then being class mates. You sunk back into disappointment and closed your eyes so you didn't have to see the imaginary situation unfold.

The room was silent and suddenly you felt a rough hand hold yours, and a gentle thumb rub. Your breath hitched, if it was a dream this feeling wouldn't be so... real.

"Sir, your going to have to leave or i'll call security"

he turned his head, about to say something.

"If he leaves i'll die" You said with a raspier voice then you remembered.

He whipped his head around so fast, confirming in your mind that this was real. He squeezed your hand tighter as your eyes wandered to the bandage on his arm.

"You were out pretty bad huh? Are you okay?" you asked.

The nurse took that as her que to leave.

"About that. I don't really know what to say because saying thank you dosen't really measure up to how grateful I am to you."

"Eh w's nothing" you mumbled slightly embarrassed.

"I heard you outside there, nice save with the girlfriend thing." you said trying to change the subject.

"Yeah...I guess." He said, the tip of his ears turning pink.

"I'm just glad your better Megumi" You said sensing how unconfutable he felt after your comment.

"Look y/n I-I know were just friends or classmates or whatever you think but I...I really like you more then that."

You let out a giggle

"I like you more then that too."

-Yuji-

Yuji is a calm guy, he's rational and friendly. So why is it now that in the deepest part of his chest did he feel some stirring frustration?

For weeks he's been getting to know everyone at Jujutsu high and you were no exception. Out of everyone he knew you were the one he would hang out with most. Something about your nature kept drawing him in, leave him wanting for more. All those late nights at each others dorms, walks around the city when you finished your missions together and going to the cinema when you both had time off.

You had grown on Yuji and he trusted you, that's why he was clenching his fists and smiling when he heard one of the Kyoto school guys asked if you were busy after the event.

Its not like he had any right to interfere with your friendships anyway, he knew that he was just a friend right now and if you wanted to hang around the Kyoto students then that was your choice.

But Yuji just couldn't shake the torment of the guys smile when ever you laughed at his crappy jokes.

"Ah Yuji there you are, what the hell do you think your doing here!? We were supposed to met at- HEY DON'T WALK AWAY FROM ME!" Nobora yelled as she watched Yuji stand up in some sort of trance and slowly walk toward you.

"Oh hey Yuji, I was just talking to some of the Kyoto students, this guys a fan of movies to!" You smiled brightly.

"Nice to met you" The guy smiled at Yuji reaching his hand out for Yuji to shake.

"You to, so y/n tells me you like movies?" Yuji put on an innocent grin.

"Yeah, bit of a film expert actually." he chuckled looking at you.

"Wow, must be nice I don't usually get the story first time round, luckily my smart girlfriend rants to me about it after." Yuji said with a checkmate look on his face.

"Honestly sometimes I zone out but I like letting her pretty lips run, its music to my ears."

You felt your face heat up, there's a chance Yuji made a mistake- he couldn't have possibly just called you his girlfriend, right?

"Honestly I must be the luckiest man alive because y/n is was out of my league."

The Kyoto student also turned red. All he could do was mutter a 'yeah' and walk away dissapointed.

Yuji stood there grinning before thinking abut what he had actually done. What a jerk he though.

Suddenly he felt an arm link onto his making him look down surprised.

"I'm so glad to have such a lovely boyfriend too." You said smiling brightly.

"S-sorry y/n I don't know what got over me haha..." He trailed off hoping the earth would swallow him whole.

"Well maybe if you take me to the cinema tonight I'll forgive you."

He turned his head back to you and beamed.

"Your going to have to explain it to me after though."

THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: Teheh I think if this post goes well i'll make a part 2. My inboxes are empty so... Reblogs r welcomed. Have a good whatever time.

[apollodarling-writes]

yan! catboy! worshipper! levi

desc : you picked up a stray catboy from the alleyway and you find that maybe he has more problems than you’re equipped to deal with.

word count : 812

cws : yandere themes, scenting, jealous levi, dubcon implications, smut implications, murder mentions but it’s levi killing his competition and bringing it back as a gift and to prove he’s better than them, slight delusional thinking, desperate clingy bf behavior but you’re not dating and he’s more of an estranged roommate, MASSIVE personality switch up, ooc levi but i genuinely wanna see this man desperate and begging, implied dissociation, this is kind of bad im ngl.

author note : someone requested this, sorry it took so long to get to it. also, here’s a little something i had in my drafts while i finish editing this commission.

you remember how pitiful levi had looked in that alleyway — his clothes torn and too big on his seemingly frail body. he was drenched from the rain, the mud that had been caked onto him softening as shivers wracked his body. the bags under his eyes were heavy and dark, and you’d noticed that he was bleeding… and badly.

you remember the way his ears perked up, his gaze sharpening as he regarded you with a mixture of apathy and contempt; the way his pupils had narrowed into slits and his tail swished in warning. he’d attacked you that night, the wound on your hip later scarring. the levi from that night was so similar, yet so different from the man in front of you.

you were frozen in place, your eyes darting between levi and the corpse he had haphazardly discarded onto your living room floor. his face was marred with blood, a subtle look in his eyes that screamed pride. it didn’t feel real — there was no way this was happening. not to you of all people.

“what the fuck—“ you gesture to the body, your eyes filling with tears. “— is this?

“what’s wrong? don’t you like it?” levi asks, his expression morphing into concern the moment he recognized your appall.

was he serious?

“levi, you killed someone and brought them back to my apartment!” you exclaim, feeling bile rise in the back of your throat as you tear your gaze away from the corpse. “my home has become a fucking crime scene!”

levi’s brows furrow, his ears flattening at your words. seeing him clench his fist, you instinctively take a step back — a feeble attempt to put distance between the two of you. he doesn’t like that.

levi knows he’d be able to catch you if you decided to run, but he wanted you to stay — willingly. he didn’t want to have to force you, knowing that would only put a strain on your relationship. sure, he was biologically much faster than the average human, but he didn’t want to have to resort to using his anatomy to his advantage again.

he doesn’t regret killing any of them — especially not this one. this man was weaker than all of the others, obviously incapable of taking care of you properly. how was that human boy supposed to provide for you? protect you?

“that just shows im better for you, doesn’t it? if they can be taken out so easily, they couldn’t protect you. not like i can.” levi hisses, his features tightening with frustration. “i did you a favor. they would’ve gotten you hurt.”

his tone takes on a more desperate edge as he scrambles to justify his actions, his hand latching onto your shirt in an attempt to keep you in place.

“why are you looking at me like that…? like i’m some kind of monster? i’m not — i did this for you! for us!” levi shouts.

you can’t bring yourself to say anything, your mind spinning as you try to wrap your head around everything. levi had never been like this before; he’d always been distant and put-together, keeping you at an arm's length no matter how hard you tried to grow closer with him.

“say something… please.” the man begs, his arms snaking around your waist as he buries his face in the curve of your throat. levi takes a shaky inhale, your scent doing little to calm his racing heart. usually, it worked like a charm, but the cortisol radiating off of you worried him.

“let go of me, levi.” you mumble, your shaking fingers pushing at his shoulders. he only sniffles in response, his tail curling around your thigh.

“please — please don’t push me away.” levi pleads, his voice cracking. “i—i need you! i’ll die without you! please don’t do this to me…!”

“get out.”

levi’s hold on you tightens, his touch slowly becoming painful. despite your squirming and growing fear, levi only pulls you closer, peppering kisses along your throat and shoulders, mumbling apologies and promising to never do it again. yet, despite the ache in your chest, you stand firm in your decision.

“leave.”

levi’s body goes rigid, his fingers gripping your waist harshly as his voice grows quiet. “we can do this the hard way or the easy way — your choice... but, you’re staying with me whether you want to or not.”

levi takes your silence as an agreement, lapping at and kissing the focal points of your pheromones to mask your scent with his own. “‘m gonna make sure everyone knows you’re mine.” he breathes, a quiet groan leaving his lips.

his movements become more frantic, nipping at your skin in between planting open mouthed kisses against any visible flesh. “i’ll fuck you until the only thing you can remember is my name — until the only scent on you is mine.”

[rainandandy]

Watching the Abyss

Summary: You, Andy, Tyler and Bjorn enter the decommisioned spacecraft to find the cryofuel but Bjorn can't hold his anger against your girlfriends synthetic brother.

Pairing: Rain Carradine X GN! Reader

Warnings: Violence, strong language, angst

Word Count: 805

A/N: My requests for Rain Carradine are open! Just send me an ask

Rain sat on the edge of her seat; her eyes fixed on the video comms screen in the shuttle. The flickering feed showed you, Andy, Tyler, and Bjorn moving cautiously through the dimly lit corridors of the decommissioned space station. Every nerve in her body was taut with anxiety, her heart pounding as the shadowy figures of the team moved deeper into the unknown.

Navarro was at the comms desk, her fingers flying over the controls as she adjusted the feed. Kay stood beside Rain, her brow furrowed in concern. “You okay, Rain?” Kay asked softly, sensing the storm of emotions brewing just beneath Rain’s calm exterior.

“Bjorn’s pushing Andy too hard,” Rain replied, her voice clipped with tension. “I don’t like how he’s treating him. Just because Andy’s a synthetic doesn’t mean he’s expendable.”

Kay glanced at Navarro, who was listening quietly but didn’t turn from her work. “Bjorn’s parents were trapped in the mines by a synthetic,” Kay explained gently. “It was a calculated decision to save more lives, but they didn’t make it out. Bjorn… he’s never forgiven synthetics for that.”

Rain’s hands clenched into fists. “That doesn’t give him the right to treat Andy like this. He’s part of our team, and he’s my—” She hesitated, swallowing the lump in her throat. “He’s my brother.”

As they watched, Bjorn shoved Andy roughly aside, barking at him to hurry up and open the next door. Andy complied without complaint, his expression blank, but Rain could see the tension in his movements.

“Bjorn, cut it out,” Your voice crackled over the comms, firm but calm. You stepped between Andy and Bjorn, your body language protective. “He’s doing his job, just like the rest of us.”

“Stay out of this,” Bjorn snapped, his face twisted with anger. “He’s a machine, nothing more. If he gets fried, who cares? We can always find another one.”

Rain’s heart lurched in her chest. “Please, don’t,” she whispered to you, as if her words could reach across the void between them.

But you didn’t back down. “I care,” you said fiercely. “And you’re not laying a hand on him.”

The tension in the room skyrocketed as Bjorn’s face darkened with rage. Without warning, he lashed out, shoving you hard against the wall. The video feed flickered as the comms picked up the sound of the scuffle. Rain’s breath caught in her throat as she watched you try to hold your ground, but Bjorn was stronger, fuelled by years of pent-up resentment.

Andy moved forward, his voice calm but urgent. “Bjorn, stop. This isn’t helping anyone. We need to work together.”

“Shut the fuck up, tin can,” Bjorn snarled, raising an electronic bat, the same kind that could fry Andy’s circuits with a single hit. He turned his glare on you. “And you, stay out of my way, or I’ll take you down too.”

Rain’s vision blurred with a mix of anger and fear. She couldn’t just sit here and watch. “Navarro, patch me through. Now!” she ordered, her voice trembling.

Navarro quickly opened a channel. “You’re live,” she said, her tone serious.

“Bjorn, that’s enough!” Rain’s voice rang out, echoing through the comms. “Back off, or so help me, I’ll—”

Bjorn froze at the sound of her voice, his grip tightening on the bat. For a moment, it looked like he might relent, but then he sneered. “You’re not here, Rain. You can’t do shit.”

Bleeding from a gash on your forehead, you don’t move away. “Rain, it’s okay,” you said, your voice strained but steady. “I’ve got this.”

Tyler suddenly appeared in the frame, stepping between them. “That’s enough, Bjorn,” he said, his voice commanding. “We’re here to get the cryopod fuel and get out. We don’t have time for this.”

Bjorn hesitated, his anger still simmering, but he finally lowered the bat. “Fine,” he spat, glaring at Andy one last time before storming off towards the next door.

Rain let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, her body sagging with relief. She whispered your name, her heart aching as she watched her partner wipe the blood from their face, your eyes flickering towards the camera as if you could sense Rain’s gaze.

“I’m okay, Rain,” you said softly, your voice reaching out across the distance. “We’ll get through this. Just hold on.”

Navarro and Kay exchanged a glance, their concern for Rain evident. But Rain didn’t care about them right now. All she could think about was getting you and Andy back safely.

“Just come back to me,” Rain whispered, her voice barely audible as tears welled up in her eyes.

As the team moved deeper into the station, the fight fading into the past, Rain sat back, her heart still pounding. This mission was far from over.

[lovelybeesthings]

Thorn in my way

Coriolanus snow x fem reader

Word count: 1.8k

Warning: Kinda smut doesn't go that great I tried 😭

Summary: C. Snow soon finds out he has completion with someone one equally cruel and to reach to the top no matter the cost leading him to drive ti the top or second.

As Coriolanus Snow soon heard of how the academy would be giving out a scholarship to the mentor of the winner of the Hunger Games which had made him both nervous and cocky thinking of this as his chance as he had been an amazing student a good one at that and no one could compare to his level and devotion to winning or so he thought..

Coriolanus was soon assigned to a girl from distract 12 was one of the worst distracts and she wasn't in the best shape that she could perform which was good to make people like her but it was hard to work with he soon tried to think of ideas to help her odds for his win he was sure that with his smart brain, he'd sure to accomplish this task at hand. During his time with Lucy Grey, he quickly develops feelings for his tribute with this set in mind it just moves him even more restored in using cheating techniques. “Well if it isn't my competition~” he heard a voice from the back of him he tried to recognize it but failed to and was confused with their words who were in the same league as him.

He turns his head to see a beautiful girl in the academy uniform her hair was long he hair was surely beautiful and the color was like (what ur hair color resembles) her beauty was amazing he doesn't know it but his heart beast a bit faster than usual more then it does for Lucy but all Coriolanus can think about is who is this girl? Why hasn't he seen her before if she says she's his competition and her beauty would surely attract him “Y/n Impala, I'm the mentor of your little songbird teammate Reaper, well I'd like to say that you shouldn't fall in love with that girl I mean if you're trying to achieve the same goal I become the head game maker with the scholarship or are you just stupid Coriolanus” Y/n bold words give a complete shock to Coriolanus he is amazed and feels the need to win more than ever this girl has remained him of what he needs to accomplish but still he doesn't respond instead his piercing blue eyes look at her girl shorter then him recognizing her as a threat.

The girl blinks as she notices the handkerchief in his pocket and smiles as she leaps in for a hug surprising the boy with blond moppy color hair that is in long curls and his handsome complexion as she carefully takes his handkerchief with lucy greys tears after I while she lets goes and hums holding the handkerchief under her jacket.

Dr. Volumnias lab

As Coriolanus sneaks in time he smirks as his plan is coming together all he has to do is give the snake Lucy's handkerchief years right in his- sudden chills run down his back as he can't find it where could he possibly put it? He soon realizes y/n had taken it when she hugged him out of nowhere he feels anger and wants to show her not to mess with him as he will give her the consequences of her actions, he walks the halls of the Academy with an angry face as he looks for the girl he turns his head seeing the girl in the garden of the Academy her arm was bleeding straight clean cuts he looks closely to the root of the problem seeing her dig in a rose bush.

“What are you doing?” his stern deep voice says causing y/n to face him “Nothing” she replies he can tell she's lying and just asks her angrily “Where's the handkerchief? Don't deny it I know you have it” She looks back at him smiling as her arm bleeds* “Why would I give it to you? I mean give me a fair trade and I'll hand it to you not like you can force me to do it I could tell the board you're using shady tactics to cheat” he clenches his fist This girl was truly a thorn in his goal she wasn't lying about he being his match his perfect rival.

He sees long bunny ears come out of the Bush as she holds a bunny that surprisingly didn't get hurt from the thorn Bush y/n bloody arms holds the rabbit smiling and starts to walk away leaving him shocked and a bit amazed at this girl.

Knock at the door

Around 2 am y/n gets a sudden knock at her dorm door as she opens it in her long nightgown her hair is in bubble braids with ribbon in them “Which idiot woke me up in my sleep” As she takes her candle up she sees blond locks and smirks “Goldilocks” Coriolanus's face appears in front of her candlelight “I know to offer you in return for the handkerchief” *she's a bit curious to know what it is “And that is Goldilocks?” she says looking a Him with siren eyes as he pushes into her dorm putting the candle down and kissing her lips she responds with a kiss and hops on him wrapping her legs around his waist and he holds her tightly kissing her* “Mmh” *he breaks out of this kiss smirking and soon pushes her to her bed.

After a while, he takes off her nightgown and unhooking her bra he takes a moment huffing looking at her fully round breasts and her nipples (n/c) he stares at her breast and looks up at her for her consent, his eyes pleading with lust and her cheeks rosy and nods with her willingness he begins to cup her breast in his hand as and brings one to his mouth sucking on it as he plays with the other one with his hand leading her pleading “ahh~” she bites her lips holding in her moan.

After I while he takes off his shirt and pants leaving him in his trousers he kisses her lips then her jaw then her chest her stomach and stops at her clothed clit taking off her pink panties as he sees her clit he smiles at her eyes peaking at him blushing like crazy he starts to lick her clit with thick licks driving her crazy moaning to his tongue after a while she soon cums in his mouth and he smiles and began to fit his fingers in her clit making her meow like a cat in her moans.

“More-e..ahH~!” y/n says in a moan as he finger fucks her making her drunk on just his fingers “Is my rose petal losing it with just my hands~?” he teases as she nods after I big later his budget is clearly showing in his trousers and slides them down showing his 7inch cock he alines his cock right to my cliff and slowly rims in “fuck-k y/n~” (time skip I'm tired and I suck at writing smut)

As Coriolanus lays down and y/n rests her silky soft hair on his chest falling asleep he stares at her for a few moments together as she thinks about his feelings about Lucy Grey he believes he loved that girl but whenever he competes with y/n his heart beats like crazy…his face expression changes into a devilish one y/n is someone who is a capitol elite like him her by his side he could rule the caption and kissed her head soon his eyes fall on their own.

As Coriolanus's eyes slowly open from the sun shining down on his face he notices that y/n isn’t on them anymore and looks for them in the room spotting them putting on a new pair of panties and bra as she puts on her academic uniform and applies her makeup “Oh hey good morning” *she says sweetly and hands him his uniform ironed and filed nicely with the handkerchief, surprising him a bit at her act like a wife to her husband “Thanks” she fixes her hair and smiles “you can go if you’d like you don’t have to stay you know” *he smiles she hears in her voice how’d she like him to stay and starts to put on his uniform he tries to fix his long nippy blond hair but the y/n brushes it out for him leaving him blushing and smiling at the size difference him having to kneel a bit* “there you go now your so handsome” she says making him smile “we should get going the games are going to start soon”.

(jump skip to when he comes back to the Capitol after murdering 3 people including Lucy 😭)

As Coriolanus breath the capitol's air again he smirked to himself devilishly he soon entered the halls once again knowing where he stood and how he'd make a name for himself but one thing he forgot was his little rose petal y/n passed by him not noticing him as she looks even more beautiful than their last meeting she walks with bandages on her arm and a bunny in her arms “you need to stop I can keep putting my arms in Rose busses to keep getting you out of them”

He smirks at her and quickly grabs her by her waist surprising her she's about to fight whoever is touching her but realizes it's Coriolanus “OMG!” she hugs him tightly as tears slip out of her tears “I thought you were distracted 12th with that girl Lucy Grey” she says as he wipes her tears “I remembered what I wanted in my life and that includes a life with you” she closes her eyes as he holds her close smirking he was foolish to think he wanted a life with Lucy grey when he can build his empire and he's already found his wife.

The end 😭

[girls-alias]

Break - Sam Winchester

Title: Break - Sam Winchester

Words: 1,673

Relations: Sam Winchester X Reader.

TW: Strong language, slight violence.

Prompt:

Telling Sam you're taking a break from hunting. (BASED NEAR END OF SEASON 1)

"I just don't see why you keep her around," John sighed as he pushed his way into the motel room. I scoffed but groaned when I put the tiniest amount of pressure on my leg, Sam and Dean had put my arms over their shoulders guiding me inside. I was bleeding from my thigh from the hunt, I was shot by a Djinn after John fought it. The thing grabbed his gun and tried to shoot him with it, I stupidly jumped in front of him, I wasn't saving him because I like him, I was saving him because I knew Sam and Dean would struggle to cope without their dad no matter how much of a prick he is. The boys exchanged an annoyed look as they carefully placed me on one of the beds.

"She took a bullet for you and you're saying she's a waste of space?!" Dean almost shouted in an annoyed tone. Sam was too focused on trying to stop my bleeding to even think about arguing. I was fascinated by Dean and John's argument that was sure to take place. I was always nice to John, trying way too hard to get him to like me. He'd been with us for about two months but it felt like years, it was exhausting. Always watching what I say and trying to breathe a certain way so that he might accept me. This is the last straw. I put up with his comments, disapproving looks, the sexism and never being alone with Sam. Sam and I were in a weird place. We were practically dating, always going on dates and always at each other's side but then John returned, the only thing stopping us from being happy. Since John turned up we've barely been alone together, kissed maybe once. 

When Sam said that John was toxic I didn't realise it was this intense. The kind of intense that catches in your throat. 

"She didn't take a bullet for me, she just got in the way," John argued dumping his bag on the floor. Dean scoffed in disbelief. I opened my mouth to argue and shout, anything to make him as miserable as he has made me in the past two months. I groaned, instantly tensing my whole body as Sam applied pressure in the wrong place. I swear the bullet just went deeper. John looked at me with a tut and rolled his eyes, I clenched my jaw. 

"Why did I look up to you? Why did I ever look up to you?!" Dean practically screamed. Never meet your heroes I guess. I was surprised Dean was defending me, I mean we're close but he is the last person I thought would fight John. Dean stood there red in the face, fist clenched at his side as he saw John in a new light. 

"You should stop with that tone, boy," John added showing he was getting angrier. Dean didn't even hesitate as he looked him dead in the eyes. 

"You should leave," Dean said in a straight tone. John seemed, well I don't know. It was a mix of hurt, shock and anger. He stared Dean down expecting him to shy away from him but if anything this was the tallest Dean had ever looked. John scoffed as he nodded. He walked out slamming the door behind him. Not long after I passed out from the pain of Sam and Dean trying to take the bullet out of my thigh.

I woke up to see I was in bed alone. Something I was getting used to with John around. Normally Sam and I would cuddle but now we barely even hug. I sighed as I looked over to the clock seeing it was 4 am. I looked over at the bed beside me where Dean was asleep, I sat up looked at the couch and smiled sadly when I saw Sam's feet hanging over the edge. I sighed knowing for a fact I couldn't sleep anymore. 

Hours pass and I am still alone with my thoughts. The only difference between then and now is I know what I'm doing. I'm leaving. I need a break not only from hunting but in all honesty the Winchesters too. I love Sam and Dean I do but John being around really showed me how much of a family we weren't. I called Bobby in a hushed tone to come and get me when most convenient for him and of course, he instantly started driving. I knew I would be safe with Bobby to heal and have a break. He texted when he was close by so I carefully got my stuff and woke Sam. He groaned but smiled as soon as he saw me. My leg was killing me from standing over the back of the couch.

"I thought I would best let you know that I'm leaving," I informed with a sad smile. He looked at me confused. He began sitting up. 

"Where are we going?" He asked wiping his eyes. Dean groaned in the bed behind me.

"Not, we. Sam, I'm heading out. I need a break from hunting," He went to argue but a tear escaping my eyes stopped him. He had never seen me cry before. Not many people had. "I'm sorry, Sam. I'll let you know if I get back into hunting but please don't try and change my mind or argue... I have to go," I informed giving him a longing kiss on the cheek before limping off towards Dean who was now sitting up in bed listening to the conversation. He had tears in his eyes but smiled at me. We were always best friends and it honestly hurt to leave him too. He stood up and started walking towards me. I struggled with a smile. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly. 

"We'll miss you," He said sadly. 

"I know," I said cockily but joking. "I'll miss you too." I looked over to Sam to see a broken-hearted man. He seemed stunned and silent. Like he had no idea what to say. "I'll see you around," I added before continuing to limp off. It hurt to put pressure on my leg but I was never the type to stray away from pain. Once the door closed behind me my breath hitched in my throat. I hope they stay safe. I looked around to see if Bobby's truck was around but instead, I found John Winchester approaching the room. 

"Leg isn't broken I see," He commented spitefully as he approached. As soon as he was close enough I punched him square in the nose. He took a few steps back almost falling to the floor. He looked ready to hit me back but I'm not afraid of him. 

"You treat those boys like shit but since they can't choose their family they're stuck with you, do better for them or so help me I will limp, crawl, I'll even fucking drag myself out of hell to whatever shit hole you're hiding in and kill you myself," I bore gritted teeth showing my anger, disappointment and sheer rath. "Your boys are amazing and know more than you think they do. You don't have to do things alone, you need them just as much as they need you." I explained readying to beat the shit out of John if it meant he'd listen to me.

"They were kids when I lost Mary, you wouldn't know how that feels," He retaliated about to walk around me. 

"They're not kids anymore!" I shouted shocking him instantly. He stopped dead in his tracks. I wasn't sure if he was more surprised by me shouting or realising that the boys hadn't been kids for years. I might hate John but this was the first time I raised my voice at him... Surprisingly. "You might have lost Mary but they did too, they lost their mother, their childhood. And they lost their father to his obsession with revenge." I screamed and he finally looked like he was thinking about what I was saying. I knew my face was probably red from the shouting and Sam and Dean were listening to me but I don't give a shit right now. "I don't care if you're hurting, you have two sons who looked up to you and all you do is let them down every single time. You have a chance to raise those boys now, take them fishing, throw a ball around, I don't give a shit just raise them like you didn't before." I puffed the hot air from my chest and finally looked at John calmly. He had tears in his eyes, lips tight like he was trying to stop them from trembling. At least he listened to me. 

"Is everything alright here?" Bobby asked I looked over John's shoulder to see Bobby getting out of his truck with a shotgun in hand, cocked and all. 

"We're fine just having a heart-to-heart. See you around, John." I added as I began approaching Bobby. 

"Y/N," John called after me. I turned around to see him slightly smiling. "Thank you for looking after my boys while I was away," He added making me smile slightly. He quickly wiped his eye as a tear escaped and turned to go inside the motel room. I smiled looking at the closed door. I nodded slightly before making it to Bobby. He helped me in the truck and wanted to know exactly what I said to John. He loves to gossip. I laughed with Bobby but the further away I got from my boys the more it hurt. I smiled sadly when Bobby stopped the truck at his house and looked at me. His arms were around me faster than my first sob made a noise. We were in the car until I calmed down enough to get out. 

I have no idea how life works without living it for Sam and Dean.

Masterlist

Part 2

[littlemissaddict]

Just a little idea that popped into my head while I was trying to sleep. And while I love reading reader x single dad! fics as someone who doesn't want kids I just feel it's not something I've come across in fics yet (it probably has been done and if you have any recs please send them my way)

Also this drifted away from my original idea and I'm too lazy to correct it so please enjoy whatever this has turned into.

"And then Ella" Steve was replaying the story animatedly across the table from her. They were on a first date, after having bumped into him at the grocery store last week where he had surprised her by asking her out.

"Sorry you've lost me, who's Ella" she asks, interrupting him but it was hard to follow the story when she had no idea who she was. She had figured she was another friend or something as it was the first time her name had been mentioned all night where as she'd heard all about the kids he used to babysit, his best friend Robin and the metalhead who had been adopted into the group but Ella was new.

Steve's face fell and she worried her question had upset him, had he already talked about her tonight and she'd missed it so now it had come across as she hadn't been listening. Oh god, it had been going so well and now she'd messed it up with one simple question.

"Have I not told you? I could've sworn I told you?" He asked, there was no accusations in his tone. Instead, he sounded more confused. She shook her head in answer to his questions and he sighed, "I could've, it's the first thing I tell people, how could I have not mentioned her" he was muttering more to himself than her.

She offered him what she hoped was a reassuring smile as she reached across the table to rest her hand over the top of his where at some point he'd clenched his napkin in his fist. He looked up at her touch, "it's okay you don't have to tell me if you don't want to" she reassured him. It may have been a first date but he didn't have to tell her his whole life story in one go, she hoped there'd be a few more where they could learn more about each other.

"No, she's someone I like to be up front about, I need to know before I get involved with anyone so they don't freak out and leave when they do eventually find out and then I'm left picking up the pieces" he explains and her heart bleeds for him, thinking about Steve thinking everything is going well only to be left picking the pieces of his heart up after they leave but she also can't help the anxious feeling building inside of her.

"Ella's my daughter"

Her face falls as soon as the words slip past his lips, a reaction she's quick to cover but not quick enough as Steve sees.

"I know it's a lot to take in especially when we're just getting to know each other that's why I like to make it known straight off the bat but tonight, I don't know I guess I just got so caught up in the excitement of being here with you that I forgot and that sounds terrible that I'm admitting to forgetting my own daughter but it's been a while since I've actually been excited for a date and well you've made me feel like a teenager again which I guess is why" he rambles, his eyes closing as he rubs his fingers against his temples before he looks back at her. "Please say something, even if it's just to tell me I'm an idiot" he all but pleads.

"Steve" she whispers. Her mind is going at a million miles a minute as she processes his confession and her own feelings. "I don't know, I really wasn't expecting to be discussing kids on a first date" she admits, "but since we're being up front then I can't lie but kids have never really been in my plans for the future and I know your not asking anything from me right now but I've enjoyed myself tonight and I really want to see where this goes but," she pauses glancing at Steve and she can tell that he's expecting her to tell him that she doesn't want to be with someone who already has a kid and the acceptance of it is written all over his face which is heartbreaking because he deserves love she's just not sure if she's the one.

"If this did progress, if we did get together I just don't know if I'd fit your expectations or even hers" she admits, already feeling like she'd be a disappointment to the both of them when she couldn’t fill the mother roll that she thought he was expected her to fill. "I just don't want it to get to the point where we realise that maybe it won't work and then we're left as you say picking up the pieces" she finishes with a sniffle, god please don't let her cry.

And Steve, wonderful Steve, leans even further across the table, his large palm cupping her cheek as a small smile graces his lips. "I have no expectations, this would be new for both of us as its only ever been me and her for the longest time, all I need to know is if you'd be willing to try, take things slow until we figure out us and then when you're ready then we introduce Ella, we could just even say your a friend if that makes you more comfortable" he tries and she melts under his touch, his gaze.

"I'm terrible with kids" she adds, giving him one last out to change his mind but he just chuckles.

"They're a learning curve, trust me but she's a good kid" he promises with a nod that somehow has her feeling at ease. Kids may have not been in her plan for the future but maybe one wouldn't be so bad.

[0blobthefish0]

Inevitable

severus snape masterlist | main masterlist

Severus Snape x Female Reader 576 words

The winner of this vote - I was surprised honestly, I thought Johanna was sure to win. I forget how big the harry potter fandom is 😅

Severus stops dead in his tracks. His heart drops to his stomach, the acid burning at its flesh and it contracts painfully - trying to disappear. Trying to make itself as small as possible. This can't be real. He's dreaming; it's just another one of his nightmares. He feels ill. 

You're bleeding. A jagged gash cuts across the smooth skin of your left cheek, he would know, he can't count the countless times he's rubbed over your cheek with the pad of his thumb. It feels like a jab at him - you; sitting there. His fault. It was all his fault. His girl. His Y/n. The ring on your finger the only proof of that fact. But he knows that can't be true, the more logical part anyway, nobody knows, not a single soul, except for the two of you. 

It's hard to breathe, his chest can't expand properly and his throat begins the seize up. He wants to leave. He wants to go back home, to where you're reading a book on the sofa with your favourite socks on, the fire crackling and dinner's still cooking on the stove. He's trying to remember, he knows it's coming, you both do.

"Tell us!" Bellatrix hisses and you flinch away. His heart aches for you and he wills for it to be all over soon. You stay silent, and he's proud of you. He can tell by your slumped figure and the way that you're unable to hold your head up, that you've been here a while. Being tortured, all the while that he was none the wiser. 

Bellatrix's jaw clenches and her nails curl into a fist, cutting into her skin. She raises her wand sharply as she storms toward you.

"Stop." 

Severus' eyes widen, before he realises that he hadn't opened his mouth. The Dark Lord raises from his seat, the snake at his feet as Bellatrix hangs her head low and hastily retraces her steps. Fear. That's all Severus can see as he scans the room. And you look so small. So fragile. 

"Severus." All eyes turn to him and they all take a step back, creating a circle around him. His gaze turns to the Dark Lord.

"Yes, my Lord?" You're looking at him now, you've mustered up the strength. And his heart breaks. He can see it in your eyes. 

"Kill her." And Severus wants to rip out his throat, he sounds so bored. He nods his head, lightly, and turns to you. He knows he has to. He knew he had to as soon as he saw you. 

He raises his wand steadily. It looks more deadly now than it has in a while.

"Severus.." You whisper and he dies right there and then. To everyone else you sound as if you're pleading him to spare you - to him, you've just told him goodbye, and that you love him. 

He squeezes his left fist before a green flash strikes you. And you're dead. Just like that, here one second and gone the next. Gods, you didn't deserve it, he didn't deserve you. 

Severus stares at your limp form, your fingers bare, but no one else is paying attention to that. 

He squeezes his left palm once again, the ring pushing into his calloused skin. He wants the imprint to bruise, he wants to feel something for this moment because he knows that he won't feel your death until it's too late.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hello there 🙋🏻‍♀️! I am a woman in desperate need of fresh Daemon fics, for his tags are running dry ♨️

Maybe something about her being insecure for being younger and inexperienced, him getting jealous of a guard's attention on her, a wedding night piece, I don't know, let your imagination run wild 🃏

Thanks in advance!

Why Do We Sleep Where We Want To Hide

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: He was the thorns around your heart, your lover, who made your heart bleed. They say love is blind because of those like you, who selflessly did anything for your selfish lover. Mayhap tis fitting love will be your doom.

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: fem!reader, undertones of suicidal ideation, Sleeping Beauty AU, casually toxic!daemon, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: Cause im so bad at titles, i just used a line in an all time low song 'monster' (which i suggest you listen to) because besides the sleeping beauty-esque plotline, the song also inspired me. I hope you like it nyctophilic0vitnir <3 <3 Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony

"You're to be married?" I shuddered, breath hitching, lips trembling.

Daemon, who looked up at me as I shot up from my bed where we were sat on, does not even show me a glint of remorse, "it is not out of mine own want to be married to that bronze bitch."

"Then what of me?!," I shake my head, feeling hot tears streak my face, "what of us?!" I heave, "you do not even care about what-"

"Well, I'm here, aren't I?!" he cuts, raising his voice, "telling you of what will become of me!" he narrows his eyes, "does that not count for something?!"

I scoff, feeling my chest tighten as my fists do. I mutter softly, as if in disbelief, "you care only for yourself, Daemon."

Like a theatre play being acted out before my eyes, I recall all of my fondest memories with him. How we met as children and bonded over our joint agenda to steal desserts from the banquet table, how he unabashedly played with me and my dolls, though his brother made fun of him, how he would braid flowers into my hair, how he would return from his travels each time with a souvenir for me, how he held my hand, how he played with my locks, how he kissed me, how he made me moan out his name in ecstasy.

He was my Daemon, my beloved prince, not a hard, miscreant the court makes him out to be.

And yet in this moment, it was pinching me in the gut. The whispers and the warnings I gave no attentions to were all darkening my memories of him.

Perhaps in fact he had been lost to me for long, and I had only been fooling myself otherwise.

He stands before me, calling out my name.

I recoil when he reaches out to me. I mumble, "if it wasn't so, you'd fight for me."

"You want me to go against my brother?" he scoffs out a dry chuckle.

The sight of his incredulous face rips at my heart. My jaw slacks as my lips pull upward, "you've done so for less."

I shake my head where he clenches his jaw.

"Tell him about us," I urge, but mutter as though it was a horrible crime, our love, "tell him, then ask my father for my hand."

His nostrils flare. He turns away, "your father would never give you to me."

I growl, shoving him away, "and you don't even want to try!?"

Daemon looks at me, shocked by my sudden aggression.

I shove him again, harder, "you cannot even agree that you care for me! And now you scorn even the notion of asking for my hand."

He calls out my name. I all but give him time to poison me with his meaningless harks. My hand that meets his cheek is enough to silence him. I shove him away one last time before storming past him, "get out."

I head to my chamber doors as he calls out my name tightly.

He says, "I did not come here to argue."

"I do not understand why you came here at all," I snip, opening the door for him. I turn, feeling my throat tighten and my eyes water at the looks of him, "get out, Daemon."

He licks his lips in annoyance, shifting on his leg as he calls my name again. He places his hands on his hips, "your childish behavior is beginning to annoy me."

I laugh, motioning to the door, "then leave!"

He huffs, "you don't think I will?!"

"I WANT YOU TO!"

"THEN I'LL FUCKING LEAVE, CUNT!"

And so he did. He stormed out and ripped the door from my grip, banging it closed on his way out.

There was an inexplicable relief when he left, relief that I got my point across, that I did not allow myself to be folly under his duress. But of course, there was a bitter tinge at the center of it all, for yes, he was this conceited man playing me, yet I did not really believe it. I still wanted to think he was mine, my sweet lover.

So seeing him in the courts, smiling at ladies, brushing the back of his hand against their necks was a repulsive sight. Watching him drink with soldiers, talking about hunting and war like it was the most exciting thing in the world was absolute ridicule. And now, beholding him win in tourneys with favors from other women was most heart-piercing.

"Daughter!" my father mutters sharply as he nudges me back into reality.

"Yes, father?" I say under my breath, rather ditzy as I turn to my left.

"Lord Westerling has asked for your favor," my mother to my right responds quickly, pulling her lips in a forced smile.

I turn front, finding the man clad in armor, holding his lance out to me. I pull a smile, grabbing a wreath, throwing it out to him, "may the Warrior grant you victory."

"Thank you, my lady," he nods, "mayhap, if I win, you will allow me a moment of your time."

I nod, without much thought.

I idlily watch as the man goes to his place and readies for the match. I only turn to his opponent when I hear the burst of High Valyrian along with the huffs of a restless steed.

When the word is given, all at once, the two ride towards each other and the Westerling fellow shoots off his horse, falling to the ground, a swift conclusion to the match. That was, until his opponent, with his avidly flashy headpiece, jumps off his horse and marches toward the felled man, as if the emissary of The Stanger herself.

I shoot up from my seat, turning to my parents, "I will relieve myself."

I do not wait for their response as I walk off, hearing the screams of a man being butchered.

Truly, it was a shock that I was caught by a bloody handed man on my way off to the privy.

I gasp when I turn back, feeling my skin crawl at the fresh stain on my sleeve and the sight of the prince, removing the helm off his head, "I nigh killed your man."

"Am I supposed to applaud you, prince?"

"Why are you making this so difficult?!" Daemon seethes, hurling his metal headpiece to the ground.

I recoil at his show of violence, feeling tears threaten to spill from my eyes, "tis I that makes things difficult?" I scoff, "your depravity knows no bounds."

"It is your haughtiness that burns us both!" he bursts.

"MY HAUGHTINE-"

I cut myself off when Daemon reaches out to for my cheeks, hands covered in grime and blood, leaning in to kiss me. I am delivered when I dodge his assault and manage to shove him away. I heave, kicking his shin, groaning at the pain in my toe that comes after.

"DO NOT TOUCH ME, MONSTER!"

He calls out my name.

"Even now," I call, "you do all you can to disgrace me!"

"You think so little of me?"

"YES!" I step forward, "because you think even littler of me!"

"That is not true and you know it."

I turn away, ready to leave him. He calls out my name angrily.

I only stop in my thundering exit when I hear him say, "if you leave me now, I will never come to you again!"

I clench my jaw tightly, "good," then continue to walk away.

For once, he is true to his words.

It is laughable, that in stubborn pettiness and spite, he is capable of doing exactly as he says he would. Yet in the warmth of our love, all the musings of his promises to me were left in hell.

He called out to me with such desperation, but now, I am nothing, no one to him. In court events, he does not even regard me, he does not even grant me the courtesy of treating me like a stranger, and merely ignores my presence altogether.

I wish so badly I could pretend to have the heart to care for the men who could finally flocked to me, now that the prince was no longer my shadow. I wish so badly I could muster even the most counterfeit of smiles, to throw back even a speck of disrespect Daemon had been throwing at me constantly.

But I was not as cold as he, and I could not even smile amongst the ladies I could have called my friends, had I cultivated more time with them, rather than the Targaryen I wasted my youth on.

When my family received invitation to his wedding, that was when I decided enough was enough.

"It's you," she calls as I enter the small, dingy room I was directed to by the woman downstairs, "the gods' wills are surely planned and timed."

I push away the curtain separating the shaman and I, brows knitting deeper at the next words she says, "I heard whispers in my dreams that I would meet a child of the Warrior and the Maiden today, lovers that cannot be."

I freeze at her words.

"Come child," she beckons, "if you want what he wanted of me, I think there need not be a spell cast for you both."

"What are you talking about?" I shake my head rapidly.

"Your lover," she whispers, "of alabaster hair and mighty wealth," she motions to the pouches of gold before her.

Daemon was here? "What did he ask of you?"

"A binding spell," she says, "it is meant to bring doom to those not he who would fall in love with you find a miserable death."

I whine, "and have you cast it?!"

"You arrived before I could finish," she says, tilting her head, "but I must say, even if I do not properly end the incantation, remnants of it would still come to pass."

"Then please undo it," I say, falling to my knees in front of the woman. I drop my satchel before her feet, heavy with all the coin I could carry.

The sound of my object catches her attentions, I suppose as well the sound of strangled breathing.

She sighs, leaning towards me, "it is nary possible to undo what has been done," she sighs, "but I can transform it to something else," she reaches out for my cheek, wiping my tear away, "what is it that you want from me, my dear?"

"I..." I shudder, feeling a shiver run down my spine. What do I want?"

"I want him," I weakly admit, "I want him to love me," I sigh, "I want him so badly. I want him to love me even though did not ask for us to be together with your magic," I chew my lip roughly, "and for that I want you to take this from me."

I look up to her. She wholly pitied me. How pathetic of myself.

"You want me to destroy the love you feel for him?"

I clench my jaw, nodding once.

She sighs, "even magic is not immune to the power of love."

"Then what can you do?!" I desperately reach out to her, "please."

"I can make him come to you."

I close my mouth. I do no think I want him to.

"It is not as simple as it sounds though, child," she explains, "I would be putting you into a deep sleep, one that would make all around you concerned for your wellbeing, him, hopefully, especially. The only thing that will awaken you is a sentiment to your lover's love."

I chuckle dryly, "he would not go to me even if his life depended on it."

"I am aghast to say that there is no other way to find out than by trying, milady," she offers, "but again, I must warn you. It is truly only he that can save you."

I knit my brows, "so... I will die if I do not wake up?"

She presses her lips, nodding slowly.

"Do it then."

"Are you cert-"

"I am the most certain I have been in a while."

And so I watched her finish her spell in front of me. She bid me farewell with a kiss on the forehead.

Later than night, when I returned, I bathed, dressed myself, and kissed both my parents goodnight the way the woman did with me.

It took a week, and visits from a dozen different maesters for the news to finally reach the king. And when it reached Viserys, it took him three days to debate whether or not he should tell his little brother. When he did, all hell broke lose.

Daemon nearly destroyed the palace in his anger, in the betrayal of only knowing the information now.

And yet, in all his ire, he did not come still. He instead moped, and rioted, and wasted away in taverns, in brothels, until his feet took him to the shrine of the Seven, praying to whomever would listen, to save his love, begging on his knees like he never did, never have, never will, ever again.

Then finally, finally he caved. He could not bear the voices in his head that were murmuring the worst.

Daemon asked to see his... his love, banging on the gates, a man at the brink, distraught, disheveled. The servants that were told to allow no one in did not know what to do. When the grief struck parents finally came, they could not turn him away upon recognizing the grief on his face.

And as Daemon went into the chambers, once blooming with shared love, now left rigid, cold, and uninviting, he took one look at the shell before him, turned away, unable to stomach the sight, unwilling to believe that this was the truth, denying this memory to stain his mind.

"It has been weeks, prince Daemon," the weeping mother says, "can you not send for someone to save my beloved girl," she turns to him, "you were once friends. You should do that much."

"We were never friends!" the prince barks, cheeks wet with tears he did not want to spill, "she was-"

And yet he still could not say it.

"Even now, you do all you can to disgrace me!"

Daemon shakes his head, turning to the floor, mumbling mostly to himself, "I will not disgrace her." He turns to the bed one last time, unable to look longer than three seconds, then to the parents, nodding his head, "I will take my leave now."

When he exits the chamber, he hears an angered man scream out profanities to him. He clenches his jaw, releasing a jagged breath, "wake up soon, my love."

[necrotic-nephilim]

I love the new ask game :D

Maybe "You wouldn't." with Bruce/Jason?

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

tysm anon, i'm glad you're loving it! i love that this got requested twice because it was such a fun one. warning that this one is *dark*, it deals with hypnotism/brainwashing and non-con as a result of that. it's *sort of* inspired by Gotham War but is based in pre-Flashpoint and basically my twist on a realistic but fucked up way i think Bruce would try to control Jason psychologically. just 3.3k of Jason suffering. enjoy <3

“Come home, Jason.”

It was a dream Jason had had a thousand times in a thousand ways. Bruce’s hand outstretched, offering Jason a white flag and compassion.

Only this time, it wasn’t a dream.

The cold ground underneath Jason’s palm was real. He could smell the dirt caked under his fingernails as he clenched his fist, panting hard.

He had a gun pointed at Bruce with his other hand. Jason was knocked to the ground, but he wasn’t down.

He was never down; a mutt going belly up. That’d never be him.

For some reason that Jason couldn’t put into words, the gun was shaking in his hand. He never had it in him to actually kill Bruce. But somehow now, his resolve felt more shattered than usual.

“Your home isn’t mine,” Jason said through grit teeth. He could taste his own blood in his mouth, but the fight was already muddled in his head. Was it one of the goons he was fighting or Bruce who’d hit him? He wasn’t sure.

Bruce loomed over Jason. It was a look he practically had patented. Cape billowing, shadow cast over Jason in such a way that Jason felt so impossibly small. He knew all the tricks and how Bruce pulled them off, but that didn’t mean he was immune to them. No matter how much Jason grew and made a name for himself, Bruce could always make him want to shrink into himself.

But he wouldn’t. He refused to hand that weakness over to Bruce.

“It always has been your home,” Bruce’s voice was far too gentle for his immovable stance and shadow-hidden face. Jason didn’t like the contrast. “Just for the night.” He took a step toward Jason, hand close enough for Jason to bat it away with his gun.

He knew this dance. Like a song that Jason had never actually heard, but still seemed to be woven into his soul. A long-forgotten melody as he descended into this hell. Bruce was reaching into Jason’s mind to pull out all of Jason’s worst nightmares about how he rolled over like a dog and gave in.

It made Jason’s lip curl in disgust, even as cold ice dripped down his spine.

“Go to hell,” Jason snarled. He didn’t sound how he wanted to. His voice was too high and it was like he was Robin again, pre-pubescent and looking at Bruce like he hung the moon. That moon was bleeding all over them, now. “I will shoot you if you don’t back off,” he warned. Not lethally, they both knew that unspoken caveat. But that didn’t mean Jason wasn’t acutely aware of every weak point of Bruce’s armor and very ready to give Bruce a new scar for his misplaced nostalgia-tainted love.

“No, you won’t,” Bruce said calmly. Not as an order, but as a simple fact.

Jason scoffed. “Like hell-”

Bruce whistled, a sharp and high note that made Jason’s brain nearly split in half.

And he-

He dropped his gun.

It tumbled out of his hand with his palm forced open. A muscle reaction that felt the same as a doctor knocking a hammer against Jason’s knee to make his leg kick out. So out of control that he just stared at his open, empty hand for a moment.

“What the fuck?” Jason spat out, blinking a few times. “Was that an EMP or something?” He hadn’t been looking at Bruce’s face. It sounded like a whistle, but Bruce could’ve activated some high-tech weapon through his gauntlet or-

Or something. Some sort of Bat-gadget that used a magnet to pull the gun out of Jason’s hand, or whatever other mcguffin Bruce had access to. That was the only logical answer that fit easily into Jason’s mind.

So why did it feel so wrong?

Why was Jason’s heart beating so fast?

He’d felt this fear before, in a dream.

Jason swallowed to keep his throat from closing up. He pushed himself to his feet and tried to grab a dagger from his belt.

He tried. And tried. It was right there, inches from his fingers twitching at his sides. Jason knew he was in control of his body. He could shift his weight and stretch his limbs and crack his neck.

But he couldn’t seem to grab a weapon.

Jason made a fist instead. He couldn’t raise it for the punch.

“You’re okay,” Bruce promised, trying to soothe the panic that was crawling up Jason’s throat. He reached up and stroked Jason’s face and Jason couldn’t seem to stop him. He wanted to pull away from the disgusting false kindness. But he fucking couldn’t. “We’re going home now.” Bruce’s tone was too calm, too even. Perfectly soothing and unbothered by Jason’s growing panic.

“No,” Jason choked out. He still had his words and could fight with them, at least. “What the fuck did you do, you bastard?”

Bruce’s expression changed but was impossible to get a full read on, hidden by the cowl. “What I had to. To keep you safe and bring you home.”

“I’m not yours,” Jason put as much force as he could into every word. All his hate, all his rage, dripped like a venom that was keeping him alive. He used his hatred to hide the fear that was swirling his thoughts, making them harder and harder to make sense of.

Something was wrong. All his worst nightmares of Jason just giving in and agreeing to go home with Bruce as an obedient little soldier were coming to life. Like sick prophecies he couldn’t escape.

Something was very wrong. Jason’s whole body was starting to shake and he instinctively reached for his chest, trying to find what was wrong. Something was lodged deep inside of him that didn’t belong. Something that Jason had to pull out before it took deeper root and he was- he was lost to some terrible unseen thing lurking in the corner of his mind. Whatever it was, Jason needed it out now before-

Bruce clicked his tongue. Jason was at least certain this time the sound came directly from Bruce, watching his mouth move to form the sharp clicking noise. Distinct and-

Familiar.

The fight or flight bled out of Jason’s limbs. His body calmed, even as his mind was still fighting the feeling. Muted and distant now, but still definitely there. Jason fumbled between the lines of a forced calm and natural panic. He didn’t know which one he wanted, which was the right one to be feeling.

The calm was entrancing. Hypnotizing, even. A siren trying to lull Jason under the waves so he would just sink into the current. The water was so warm and inviting, promising an existence where Jason wouldn’t have to feel so much pain all the time-

Hypnotizing.

It was hypnotizing.

Jason vaguely remembered Talia mentioning a hypnotism expert that Bruce once knew but she couldn’t convince Jason to train with them. He thought it sounded like a bunch of pseudoscience bullshit. Everyone knew hypnotism was a dumb Placebo.

Everyone it seemed, except Jason’s body. Which felt like it was trying to sink into the dirt under the weight of forced calm Bruce had wrapped around him.

“How-” Jason’s mouth was full of cotton. “Did you brainwash me, or something?”

“Conditioning,” Bruce corrected. How was he so casual about it? “It took months to make sure you wouldn’t notice. I did what I had to, to keep you safe from yourself.” He dared to run his fingers through Jason’s hair, pulling Jason’s pliant body forward until his forehead was pressed into Bruce’s shoulder. “This isn’t a punishment, Jason. I need you to understand, I didn’t do this to save Gotham. I did this to save you.”

He made the words sound like a love confession. They were the most terrifying words Jason had ever heard. They sounded more like a prison sentence Jason’s soul had been damned to then something sweet.

Jason managed to shake his head. His ears were ringing as he tried so hard to fight against the siren song. Bruce’s body was so warm. His words were barbed wire wrapped in a lullaby. They pierced Jason so deep he was sure he had to be bleeding everywhere. He could taste it, after all. Nothing made sense.

“You wouldn’t,” Jason whispered, almost delirious with how surreal it all felt. His tether to reality was cut cleanly by his puppeteer, razor-thin wires shackling him in place. A promise.

Bruce dared to press a kiss against Jason’s temple. “I already have.”

Jason went limp. Bruce caught him around the waist, easily picking him up to hold Jason gingerly.

Like a lover.

The nightmares of Bruce’s touch tasted so real.

Oh, fuck.

The nightmares.

“You’ve done this before,” Jason realized, tears of betrayal pricking in his eyes. The nightmares were real. They were distant, hypnotized memories he couldn’t quite reach in the back of his mind. Locked away until Bruce decided to unlock this conditioned, obedient side of Jason to play with. Using him like a toy.

Bruce was a psychotic bastard who always went too far.

But this. This was something new. An incomprehensible horror Jason could’ve never imagined Bruce doing. That was why they had to be nightmares, not memories. Bruce never would’ve done that to Jason. Jason never would’ve just laid there and taken it from Bruce. He wasn’t some lap dog for Bruce to domesticate.

He wasn’t.

This wasn’t real obedience. It was forced submission.

This wasn’t real at all. It couldn’t be.

This wasn’t Jason.

He wouldn’t have let this happen to himself.

He didn’t realize he was crying until Bruce was wiping the tears away. Daring to be fucking gentle, like he wasn’t perfectly aware of Jason’s inner turmoil eating him alive.

“Let’s go home,” Bruce said, adjusting Jason into a bridal carry and ignoring as Jason’s shallow breaths gave way to soft sobs.

The worst part was, Jason could feel himself slipping deeper into the corners of his mind. It was disturbingly easy to fall for the drowning nothingness that quieted all his rebelling emotions tearing him apart.

It was easy to give in to Bruce’s conditioning.

Before Jason knew it, he was tucked into the Batmobile, limbs completely immobile as they drove down familiar streets.

The anger melted away first.

Then the fear.

All those feelings left and Jason was just-

Empty.

He was going home.

Moments of clarity came to Jason in short, chaotic bursts. The first one came to him as Bruce was stripping him of his clothes, throwing them to the ground without a care in the world, desperate to consume Jason with hungry hands.

He could see Bruce’s face, now. It was all Jason could see.

Those awful, wanting eyes. Looking at Jason like he was just another toy of Bruce’s.

“What…” Jason’s words were slurred and barely fit in his mouth. “Stop- Bruce, stop-”

“Shh,” Bruce pressed his mouth against Jason’s and Jason was sinking again, unable to stop his body from reacting and kissing back. “I’ve got you.” The words were already so far away Jason barely heard them, even pressed against his mouth.

Bruce tasted like peppermint and sweet compliance.

The second clear moment was the longest one.

It came to Jason with a gasp, chest heaving for air as if something had been choking him.

He wasn’t being choked, though.

He was being fucked.

The gasp turned into a startled moan when a long thrust drove right into Jason’s prostate, his entire body jerking. Jason’s arms were wrapped around Bruce’s back, clinging to him like some kind of needy animal as Bruce drove into Jason’s body. A mutt with his belly up, compliant, like he was afraid of.

“Stop fighting it,” Bruce murmured into Jason’s ear, immediately knowing that Jason was lucid.

How could Jason stop fighting when he didn’t know he was fighting in the first place? He wasn’t in control of the mess in his head pulling him in too many directions.

He was so wrought out that all he could do was cry, anguished.

Jason wanted to push Bruce off of him. He didn’t want this pleasure. Jason’s arms moved sluggishly, but at least seemed to obey him, pushing weakly at Bruce’s shoulder.

“No, no no no,” Jason chanted the only thing he could get out. A mantra, a plea, and a prayer all in one. Every thrust rattled his bones with new, yet familiar feelings that were too real.

The parts of Jason’s body not under his control bloomed under Bruce’s touch. His back was arching and he was grinding onto Bruce’s cock. It made no sense, how he tried to claw at Bruce’s skin while chasing more and more of Bruce deep inside him.

It was where Bruce belonged, an insidious voice whispered in Jason’s ear. Where Jason belonged, too.

No, Jason fought back in his own mind.

God please, no.

Bruce just kept moving and fucking Jason. As if it wasn’t rape.

It was rape, wasn’t it? Jason’s consent wasn’t real. Bruce had made it up.

All of this was made up. Jason would never let Bruce do this to him.

“You’re beautiful,” Bruce soothed, pressing flowering kisses down Jason’s throat. Jason tried to turn his head away but he had nowhere to go, trapped underneath Bruce.

“No,” Jason repeated. He hit Bruce in the chest when a particular thrust made Jason’s own cock twitch and a moan rolled through his body.

Jason was hard. There was already precum dripping out of him.

Would he come like this? Did he have words, when he was completely under? In some of Jason’s nightmare-memories, he could remember begging Bruce for more. More touch, more pleasure, more orgasms.

That was what Bruce had reduced Jason to. A wanton whore who didn’t even have control of his own body. Jason violently shook his head, trying to wiggle more control into his limbs. He managed to just barely kick Bruce’s leg. Not hard, but enough to make Bruce stumble, catching himself with a hand against the mattress. A hand that wasn’t touching Jason anymore, making him sigh in relief. He could keep this momentum.

He just had to hold onto the control-

“I love you,” Bruce said, voice silky and going down Jason’s psyche like smooth whiskey. The burning aftertaste was there, trying to start a fire strong enough for Jason to fight back with, but Jason just swallowed.

Those words were the needed trigger to push Jason back down. And worse, this time it wasn't a gentle descent. He felt like he was being smothered by a pillow inside his own head. Jason was pretty sure he actually screamed before his body was taken from him.

Jason only managed to give Bruce a parting glare.

Lucidity came for Jason again with water raining down on his body. Hot enough to steam up the space, making Jason’s muscles sag.

He was in a shower. Leaning against Bruce. Practically clinging to him like a fucking child.

He could feel the soreness in a deep, disgusting place Jason never wanted to know Bruce could reach. Two gentle hands were massaging shampoo into Jason’s hair. The scent that Bruce used, not Jason.

Even when all this was over, Jason still wouldn’t be able to get Bruce’s scent off his skin.

Bruce had to be doing it on purpose.

“I hate you,” Jason spat the words out as fast as he could. He knew he was going to slip away again.

He knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. Acceptance was an ugly pill Jason hated swallowing with every fiber of his being.

He had never hated himself more.

Hating Bruce was an easy second nature. But this level of self-hatred was new, even for Jason.

He was so tired of feeling it. Of feeling at all.

Bruce didn’t use words this time. Jason’s ugly confession wasn’t acknowledged. Warm fingers just pressed into a specific spot against the back of Jason’s neck and he was boneless again.

Jason’s last thought was wondering just how many triggers Bruce had programmed into him.

He probably didn’t want to know.

Jason’s final moment of awareness came in Bruce’s arms. He was pressed against Bruce’s chest, finding himself tracing idle patterns across Bruce’s skin while Bruce was reading something on his tablet.

There was cold, bitter anger freezing Jason’s chest over.

But mostly, there was numbness.

Emptiness.

Jason didn’t say anything this time. He didn’t see the point when his words meant nothing to Bruce. He just glared into nothing, hand going completely rigid, then curling into a useless fist.

He didn’t want to know how many times he had been here before.

Bruce leaned down and kissed Jason’s brow. Jason wrinkled his nose but gave no other reaction. He kept his body perfectly still, even with it in his control.

“Do you want to remember?” Bruce asked.

Confusion clouded Jason’s muddy senses. “What?”

Bruce brushed stray hair out of Jason’s eyes and tilted his chin up, forcing him to look into Bruce’s lovingly unforgiving eyes. “Do you want to remember this time? You don’t have to remember if you’re not ready.”

Not ready. Jason didn’t like how those two words were heavy and had so many implications that they turned his stomach.

“No,” Jason couldn’t stop himself from telling the truth. Bruce had asked if he wanted to remember.

And Jason didn’t want this. He needed to remember. But more than anything, he didn’t want to remember this. It made his skin crawl.

He wanted this to be a bad dream.

The logic side of Jason’s brain was screaming and begging to remember this. If Jason knew this was real when he was away from Bruce, then he could get far, far away. He could run.

He could go anywhere.

Bruce hummed and nodded. With understanding Jason could feel down to his core, an awful thing.

He’d done this before, after all. The routine was down pat, for Bruce.

And for Jason, it was a new horror that he was going to learn over and over again.

Maybe Bruce got some kind of sick enjoyment out of this wretched cycle. Jason knew Bruce’s end goal, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself.

He couldn’t. Admitting it made it real.

And this wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be.

Instead of slipping under the edge of conditioning, Jason just slipped into sleep. His body relaxed and Bruce pulled a blanket around him, tucking him in and murmuring something Jason didn’t quite catch.

Jason drifted into a dreamless sleep.

With a swear and a jolt, Jason woke up. His heart was pounding and he grabbed his chest, breathing hard. He sat up, swinging his legs over his shitty bed in his shitty warehouse.

“Fucking nightmares,” Jason grumbled, getting his body to calm down. The nightmare was already slipping away. It was something so ridiculous that he didn’t bother chasing it. Something about Bruce touching him and Jason just letting him.

A snort came out of Jason’s chest at the thought. He stood up, shaking himself free of stupid night terrors.

Jason rolled his eyes and wandered over toward his fridge, mind already drifting to think about the case he was working on, looking over the board on his wall to give his attention to something that actually deserved it.

Like he’d ever let Bruce get close to him, Jason wasn’t just some mutt belly-up starved for attention.

Over his dead body.

[bunnakit]

can you do “Can’t you just— can’t you just go?” “I’m not leaving you alone until you’re okay.”  with chen yi/ai di for the hurt comfort prompts? pretty please? <3

AAAHHH FINALLY INSPIRED TO ANSWER MY WRITING PROMPTS

🌸

Chen Yi couldn't remember the last time he felt such an all-consuming rage flood through his veins. It felt like white-hot fire, propelling his limbs into action and forcing his fist against the wall and a shout from his throat. He was distantly aware of Ai Di talking in a low tone behind him, likely to Xiao Jie, before the sound of the garage door closing filtered out of his notice like background static.

No one had ever specifically targeted Ai Di, not like this. They'd always been too low in the pecking order for it to matter, just Dong Yang's adopted bastard children that were of no consequence. But now Chen Yi was in charge, things were different, and he should have been prepared for this. He should have done better.

He didn't need Chen Dong Yang here to express his disappointment, he could feel it down to his marrow with every thumping heartbeat that pounded in his breast and throbbed behind his eye.

"Chen Yi," Ai Di's hand caught his arm, fingers pressed hard against the taut corded muscle that strained against the way Chen Yi clenched his now bruised fist. "It's alright." He said, despite the way his words were slightly off, slurred by his split lip and bruised jaw.

The last thing he wanted was Ai Di out of his sight after this. He wanted Ai Di glued to his side, attached to him in more ways than just the symbolic binding properties of the rings on their fingers. All the same, he wanted to hide him away - to tuck him into their room where he knew he was safe and couldn't be stolen away again. He knew neither option was acceptable to fierce, free spirited Ai Di but he had to try something.

"Di, can't you just go? Just.. go to our room. Take care of these." He said through clenched teeth, hand lifting to brush his thumb gently beneath the cut across his brow and swipe away the sluggish trail of blood.

"Shut up. I'm not going anywhere until I know you're okay. You can't go tearing this place apart just because I have a few scratches." Ai Di growled as if he wasn't the one holding his arm against his chest, as if he wasn't the one in bloodied and dirtied clothes, standing tall (as tall as Ai Di could) despite the Hell he had no doubt endured in the last thirteen hours.

He felt his rage morph into raw fear, felt as his fists relaxed and instead trembled at his sides. This could have ended so differently. This could have ended terribly.

At least he would have only had to endure the news for one second. Just one second was all he'd have to survive without Ai Di. It still felt far too long.

"Yi." Ai Di snapped, demanding his attention again and Chen Yi was powerless to resist. His eyes focused on his partner, feeling his face fall from it's contortion of rage into something far more sorrowful.

"I'm okay but I need you to be okay too." Ai Di spoke softly, in a tone only ever used for him and two other people.

Chen Yi sighed heavily and pulled Ai Di to his chest - careful of his injuries - and pressed a kiss to his sweat and blood-matted hair.

"We're okay, but those bastards won't be when I'm finished with them." He would rain Hellfire down upon the Jade Tiger Clan, declaw them and leave them bleeding in the streets as a message.

No one touched what was his.

[jolalibrary]

More Helen x Ghost pleaseeeeee

sometimes, I am merciful

Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader

Word count: 1k

AN: mentions of a wound and dressing it. fluff-ish (probably more than I’d like but it’s been a day and a half and I needed this too). Helen isn’t readers name, read Helen.Simon for more context. take pity on me, I wrote this on my phone (: but hope it’s okay, anon.

+++++++++++

“Helen,” he hisses through gritted teeth.

He clenched his other fist, the bones on the glove cracking under pressure. He’s trying not to stare at you—fearful you’d turn him into fucking stone.

The look on your face is still etched into his eyelids. Eyes flicking from him to his clearly bleeding hand, a mixture of relief and disappointment he’s come back with another scar you’ll obsessively try and heal.

Your grip on his hand tightens, wrenching it closer. “Keep still, Casper.”

He doesn’t hate it. The grip you have on him. Both literally and figuratively. Even if he doesn’t fully understand the ifs, buts and how’s of it all.

But he doesn’t fucking hate your new pet name. The one you’ve clearly thought about over the thirty-six hours he’s been gone.

He’s had it for all of fifteen minutes and already cannot stand it. But he refuses to ask for Boo.

Instead, he puts up with it. Letting you relish in inflicting your own choice of torture.

Because if you’re calling him a friendly ghost, it means you’re still calling him. Still talking.

He’s learnt how painful and torturous your silence is. A punishment he’s not sure he could handle on such limited sleep.

Sighing, he blinks. Purposefully blanking his face, letting his eyes soften and settle.

Then he wills your eyes to meet his.

If you were anyone else, he’d command it. But that doesn’t work on you. Not unless he says it softly, not unless shards of him are breaking off and you take pity on him.

Look at me. Please look at me.

You don’t.

The scent of antiseptic, vanilla and blackberries meets his nose, mixing with the smell of blood, dust and death he’s brought with him.

He prefers your scent. A perfume he struggles to remove from his casual clothing and his bed sheets. Not that he complains. He’d never complain.

If he had his way, the scent would be burned into his skin. It keeps him rooted and reminds him of the truth in all the lies that his brain conjures when insomnia strikes.

Helen. Look at me.

You don’t. You’re too busy using all of your focus as you dress his wound. Your delicate fingers slide the bandage around his palm, silently judging, silently tutting as you work your magic.

He knows you’re pissed—before you start muttering and tutting. You weren’t half as gentle with the needle as usual. Not even muttering an apology when you’d stabbed it a little too hard.

If it weren’t inflicted on him, he’d have egged you on. Rather liking your conniving ways. On him, not so much. Even if he can tell, you’re getting some sick satisfaction from making him wince.

But he needs your eyes.

He’s missed them.

“Sweetheart…”

It comes out stern and quiet, but it forces your chin up. Those big beautiful eyes land on him, and they feel like the sun.

At first, they’re soft, all kindness and love. In one blink, they’ve shifted. Scolding him, attempting to peel back his mask and scorch his face.

Fuck, you’re beautiful.

“A rusty knife? Really, Simon?”

“Better my hand than my neck.”

You clamp your mouth shut, hiding insults and your wicked way with words from him. The fact you do annoys him more than the coward who tried to stab him.

“There’s a choice to choose neither, you know,” you whisper, continuing to bandage his hand, focusing on the bow. “Could come back to me with just bruising and cuts. That’s a choice too.”

You tighten the final part of the bandage more purposefully, him biting back a wince as you look up at him again. The anger softens, sadness replacing it. A look he instead fucking hates, even if he’s the one who put it there.

“I’m never leavin’ you.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” you say, pushing back on the wheels of your chair for more distance, “Because if you considered it, I’d hunt you down. Hell or high water, I’d find you. And, let me make this crystal fucking clear, Simon Riley. I am both.”

He wants to lift his mask.

Show you the prize of his smile.

But he can’t risk it. Not here, not in the middle of your medical room that people barge in and out of.

It doesn’t matter how often the two of you try to steal moments; life has a way of ripping them from your grasp. But it doesn’t stop him from trying.

Instead, he grabs your leg, pulling you, pleasantly surprised you don’t fight him as you wheel between his legs. Your annoyance is painted as clear as day, his fingers releasing your leg before resting on your knee.

“Understood,” he says, drawing a soft circle against your knee. Watching you, watching him. A moment, between all the others, where it’s just the two of you. “Go eat, Helen.”

“I’m fi—“

He squeezes your knee, silencing you. Staring at you to remind you he knows you. Knows that you haven’t eaten two meals a day, never mind three. That he’s had people check on you, ask about you.

That in his own fucking way, he cares, so let him care. Let him take care of you.

You swallow as if realising this. As if the two of you are in the middle of a conversation, you’re both having with your eyes.

He wins.

The only way he knows that is from the sweet little groan you give him as he returns to drawing a circle on your knee.

“Sometimes, Simon. I really can’t stand you.”

“Feelings mutual, Helen.”

You remove your glove, placing your hand gently over his. It’s warm, gentle and yet calloused in its own way.

And he should tell you to leave.

Tell you to get food before you’re left with scraps you’ll complain to him about later. But this is nice. It’s comforting. It’s something he can’t genuinely articulate and is glad you don’t ask him to try.

And then, you hand him his glove. The one stained scarlet and still damp with his blood.

He nods.

You nod.

The two of you send the other a look which has become close to a parting kiss, without you both touching. One that will have to do until he can really kiss you later. Until he can remind every inch of your skin that he came back, that he’s alive. He’ll do so, silently promising too, until you’re chanting his name to the point he realises this isn’t a dream, but reality.

A beautiful, unexplainable reality.

[diealittlesometime]

What the Hell Was It?

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

A/n: Yeahh... Idk 'bout this one. This has shit writing. It's all over the place and obvi didn't proofread this. I'm too tired to actually read and edit this. So just bear with me, okay. Okay.

Summary: You need to get her to stay - you need her to choose you. You'll be damned if you let this be the end of it.

Warnings: language, lot of shouting, angst but has a happy ending, kinda?

Word Count: 2.2k

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"I love you." You can't take your eyes off of her, voice wavering on the last syllable as it slips past your lips like water through a sieve, a soft breath that feels so much like a plea. Your hands are clenched into fists in front of your chest, nails digging into the fleshy parts of your palms in an attempt to hide the tears that are threatening to fall from your eyes at any given moment. 

The sound of her heavy sigh echoes around the room, but she doesn't speak - not immediately anyway. She just stands there in front of you, hands on hips and looking down at the floorboards with her brows furrowed together. The silence stretches on for minutes, seconds even until finally you're unable to take it anymore. 

"Please," you plead, turning back to look at her. Your cheeks have already started burning with humiliation. "Say something." 

You can see the muscles in her jaw clench before she speaks. "We can't," she says, sounding as if she's repeating herself to convince herself. It sounds almost rehearsed; she probably has been repeating those words since the first time you met her. "You know we can't. I'm married... I can't leave her, Y/n. I love my wife. I love Wanda." 

You scoff bitterly, wiping angrily at the corners of your eyes to remove any remaining remnants of tears. "You love her?... But what about me?" You ask her, voice cracking in protest. You swallow hard, feeling the beginnings of nausea pooling in your stomach. "What about me? What about us? Don't you love me at all?" You demand, and now you've gotten angry and desperate; tears are falling silently from your face onto the floor. 

Natasha's gaze meets yours again when you lift your chin up to meet her eyes and your heart jumps in response to how beautiful she looks with the light behind her, illuminating the sharp angles of her face and accentuating the shadows under her eyes. Her features are drawn, her expression closed off like she's steeled herself against you. "I can't." She repeats again. 

"You can't?" You repeat back incredulously, trying to keep the bitterness out of your tone this time instead of just letting it bleed out through your words. You want to yell, shout, scream, do anything to let her understand that you care about her more than anything. She shakes her head once. 

"My family needs stability. My wife needs me." She tries to explain, sounding so detached and logical in that way you hate so much. 

You feel your eyebrows pinch together as if they want to merge together permanently. "And me? What about me? All the time we spent together? Our relationship?" You don't mean to shout, but the question bursts forth without your consent.

It seems like forever before she answers you. You try to ignore the sinking sensation inside your gut, the fear and uncertainty clawing their way to the surface. "It wasn't real-" She starts to say, but then catches herself. She closes her eyes for a moment and takes a shaky breath, before continuing with a firmer resolve. "-none of it was ever really real, Y/n."

Your lips press themselves thin as you dig your heels in, refusing to give up so easily. You won't, will you? Not now. "That's not true. What I felt - what we felt - was real." You tell her quietly, though she still isn't looking at you. "It didn't feel like fake. You didn't think it did either. We made it work."

"No." She breathes, voice cracking. Her fingers curl into tight balls as her hands shake slightly. "It was all an act. A lie." Her words feel like daggers piercing your chest, puncturing deeper and deeper until they reach your soul. They hurt, a lot. "And the only thing we ever had was our own selfish desires." 

The words come pouring out of her mouth faster than you can process them, and they hurt. Even worse than any of the verbal cuts she's inflicted so far today. "Don't say that!" Your voice is raw with emotion, and you don't bother hiding the tears as they roll over your cheeks and drip off of your chin. "How can you be saying things like this after everything we've done for each other? And don't you dare tell me it doesn't mean anything, because you know damn well it does. Don't talk about this like it's some kind of fucking tragedy."

Your voice cracks as you continue speaking, your breath coming out in harsh pants. "We were good together. We're happy together. We worked well together." You're practically begging by the end. "We're happy. We weren't fake. We were... perfect for each other. We were meant to be together." You take another shuddering breath, trying desperately to push your feelings aside. 

This argument is getting nowhere fast. You can see that clearly, even if she refuses to admit it. She's too stubborn for that. Too strong for that. There's nothing you can do about this except push yourself through it, hope that somehow the outcome will change somehow. Because you refuse to believe that it's over already. "...We love each other."

"...We love each other." You whisper brokenly, feeling a wave of sadness crash over you at the sight of her shaking her head back and forth. "If you'd just admit that..."

"Y/N." She warns, warning you away. "Stop it." The hand holding onto her hip squeezes tightly, almost painfully as her nails dig into the skin of her waist. Tears are starting to collect in the corner of her eyes again as she looks at you, a tear sliding slowly down her cheek to join the others.

Your heart sinks further and further. "You know I'm right," You plead, desperation seeping into your words as your hands start to ball into fists as well. "You know I'm right."

She opens her mouth to speak, as she stares up at you with those big green eyes of hers, filled with guilt and regret. "Just stop..." Her voice is barely above a whisper when she finally speaks again, her shoulders slumped down. "Just stop, okay? Don't fight me on this. This isn't fair to anyone. Especially not Wanda." 

You almost laugh. Of course. Of course, she's going to go back to Wanda - her wife, her wife. Why would you expect anything else? You should have known better than to get your hopes up. "Oh, so now you're suddenly concerned about Wanda?" You sneer, sarcasm rolling thickly off your tongue despite how hard you're trying to hold it back, how hard you're trying to pretend to be angry with her. 

You fail spectacularly and instead, it comes out bitter and resentful, dripping venom into every word. "After you cheated on her with me? After you lied to her? After you knocked on my door in the middle of the night, pushing me inside of my house, slamming your lips against mine so roughly that I could taste your desperation?" You laugh dryly, shaking your head and dropping your arm down to your side as anger burns inside you once again. "You've got to be fucking kidding me, Nat... we made love to each other while Wanda's on the phone, and yet your acting like none of this happened? Like we never touched or fucked each other or slept together?"

She just shakes her head again, and now the tears are falling freely, dripping off of her face and staining the tips of her hair red in the dim lighting. "This...this was wrong," she whispers, her voice breaking on the last syllable of her sentence. "Made love? No. No, that's not what this was. We had sex, sure. We shared a bed and enjoyed each other's company, but..." She pauses briefly, as if searching for the right word, and then looks back to you as if nothing else matters. "This thing that we had wasn't love."

"Then what the hell was it?" You ask her, raising your voice even louder this time, your throat tightening uncomfortably as you try to keep the emotions out of your voice, but ultimately failing. You're breathing heavily now, your body trembling.

"I don't know... I don't know." She replies, frustration apparent in her tone as tears spill past her eyelids and slide down her cheeks. She wipes them away angrily with her sleeve, but it's no use.

She continues to sniffle, sniffling softly as her breathing becomes more and more labored as her composure crumbles around her. "I don't know, okay?!" She shouts finally, startling you both by the sudden volume of her voice. "All of this is messed up. None of it was real, alright? We're just a bunch of broken people who got together because we needed a distraction. It was supposed to be temporary. That's all this is - temporary." She turns away, her voice growing louder with every word and every bit more insistent. "Nothing more."

"Bullshit." You growl as you grab her arm forcefully, yanking her back around to face you and staring at her fiercely as you grip her arm tighter than you've ever held her before in your life, the pressure causing her pain and making your heartache. "Bullshit." You shout one final time. 

"You're a liar. You're a cheat, and I hate you for it... But I love you and I always will, and it kills me that you're doing this. Please - tell me what I need to do to make you stay with me, tell me something I can do to prove to you that I'll make things work. Tell me I'm not losing you for good! Don't leave me, Nat! For God's sake, please, don't leave me."

You clung on for dear life, desperate to keep her in your grasp and never let go. To keep her beside you, always close enough to touch whenever you needed her. "Please... please, don't leave me." You sob brokenly, squeezing her hand tight. "I- I can be a good girl, Nat. Just please choose me..." You trail off, closing your eyes and taking several deep breaths, fighting desperately to control the overwhelming emotions flooding through your system. " I don't want to lose you. I can't..."

You reach out and pull her towards you once more, wrapping your arms around her tightly as tears stream endlessly from your eyes. Her body stiffens for a moment as you cling to her, then relaxes completely as you bury your face into her shoulder, tears dripping down onto her shirt. You mumble incoherent words in between cries, repeating yourself repeatedly as you try to convey exactly how sorry you are without actually apologizing. 

You need to get her to stay - you need her to choose you. You don't care what it takes, anything at all. You'll be damned if you let this be the end of it. If you have to beg and cry and beg and cry to get her to stay. Anything, you don't care. You'll do whatever you have to do to convince her to stay. Everything. All.

You look back up at her face. "I'll do anything," You whisper hoarsely. "Anything you say. Just please don't abandon me." Your tears are still streaming down your face as you blink rapidly to fight the tears and keep them at bay. "Anything." With that, you slam your lips to hers, letting your emotions run wild through your veins as they collide, as you pour everything you feel into it.

Your fingers are tangled in her hair as you kiss her harder, pulling her closer, closer still. You kiss until your lips start to tingle, and when you break the kiss, both you and Natasha are panting heavily as you stare deeply into each other's eyes, both completely breathless. "Choose me, Nat." You repeat weakly. You need her to choose you. Right now. Right here. 

"Stay with me." Slamming your lips onto hers again, kissing her hungrily, desperately, as soon as you finish your sentence. Pulling her towards you as you press your lips against hers hungrily, forcing her to respond in kind. You pull her closer to you, gripping the collar of her shirt with one hand and running the other along her back. Your kisses become more aggressive, more heated. It's messy and wet and hungry as if neither of you wanted to pull away. As if you never wanted this moment to end.

Her own arms move on their own accord as she wraps her arms securely around your torso as well, pulling you in closer as she kisses you back, her lips moving against yours feverishly.  

You're not really sure how long you kissed for but eventually, you pulled away, leaning your forehead against hers. Panting slightly, you stare into her eyes, seeing the longing in her gaze as she stares back at you. "Stay." You murmur quietly, reaching up to cup her cheek softly. "Come with me. Come home with me. Stay with me. Tell me you won't leave me again, please. Just stay." You begged. "Let us be together for real this time." You whispered.

She doesn't respond, only sighs softly as she slowly leans forward and rests her forehead gently against yours. Pulling you even closer to her, she wraps her arms tightly around your waist. 

You couldn't help but smile as her eyes fluttered closed slowly, her body beginning to relax and melt into yours, soft lips brushing over yours ever so lightly. "I love you..."