#and if you do indeed try to voice yourself and address things. to not be heard or understood. or respected. LEAVE leave leave

[chl3borzoi]

You should never feel dread about intimacy. It should be a pain-free and enjoyable thing. You should feel held by your partner. Your partner should defend you to others and make you feel wanted, in many more ways than just sexually. If this clicks with you, i encourage you to leave. Heartbreak and being alone is sad, but it's better than bad.

[pretzel-box]

A sebastian fic idea, doesn’t have to be romantic but can be, for whatever you want with it :3

Basically, when the Expendable dies and Sebastian explains their death to them albeit frustrated(as the Expendable is just really bad at what they do and keep dying), they decide to stay dead as an annoying ghost haunting Sebastian’s side, much to his annoyance and dismay

Tags: Gn!Reader, Reader is a ghost, slight comedy

Words: 1k

Sebastian slammed the file down on the table with a force that made his random coffee cup tremble precariously on the edge. The dark room was lit only by the dim, warm glowing angler lure on his head, casting long shadows that danced across the walls. He glanced at the file he had just laid out, his lips curling into a smirk.

"You couldn't have died in a more stupid way," he chuckled, his deep voice echoing in the room as he mocked the other person. He was addressing the latest expandable, who sat across from him, eyes glazed with a mix of irritation and confusion. It was their second time to die and yet the poor fellow still didn't understand what is happening.

Across the table, you, or rather your ghostly apparition, floated just out of reach. You scoffed, your spectral form leaning forward as if to peer over Sebastian’s shoulder. "Oh look, that coffee spill on the file is shaped like a horse," you remarked, your translucent finger pointing with a strange, childlike excitement.

Sebastian blinked, momentarily thrown off. "What?" he muttered, following your line of sight to the brown stain that indeed had a vague equine shape. His eyes squinted, trying to understand why a horse-shaped spill might be interesting.

The expandable on the chair furrowed his brow. "I haven’t said anything," he mumbled, clearly unsettled by the shopkeeper’s apparent non sequitur.

"Not you," Sebastian shot back in a dry tone, feeling a flush of embarrassment. He couldn't believe he had let his guard down in front of a customer due to your ridiculous observation. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

The situation with you had become… complicated.

The whole thing started three years ago and he can remember the details fully in his memory due the weird situation.

It had all started after your twenty-sixth death. You had shown up at the death room as usual, but there was a different look in your eyes—a look of resignation, of defiance. You sat down across from him, arms crossed tightly over your chest, a permanent scowl etched onto your face as if you had made up your mind about something.

“Take time to read it or else you’ll die from it again,” Sebastian had instructed, his tone exasperated but calm. He pushed a file across the table toward you, flipping it open to reveal the gruesome image of the Eyefestation—green, glowing, and malevolent. The sight was familiar, the text barely new for you and the highlighted parts were mocking you.

You turned your head away, refusing to even glance at the file. “No,” you said flatly.

Sebastian's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “No?”

“No,” you repeated, more firmly this time, your eyes locked onto some distant point on the wall.

Sebastian had seen many expendables come and go, but none like you. Most of them were desperate to get back into the field, to keep trying until they finally made it out. But not you. You just sat there, a stubborn pout on your face, refusing to move.

You had planted yourself in that chair like it was your throne, declaring, without words, that you were done with all of it—the missions, the dying, the endless cycle of suffering. You were going to stay right there, a ghostly nuisance in Sebastian’s life.

"Fine," he had finally snapped, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Fine, stay a ghost if you want. But you will beg to return eventually."

Yet here you were, three years later, still haunting his shop, your spirit lingering like a bad smell he couldn't quite get rid of. And, frustratingly, the begging he had predicted never came. Instead, you had made yourself right at home, offering unsolicited commentary on everything from his choice of inventory to the coffee spills on his files.

"Have you ever seen a coffee spill shaped like that?" you asked again, your voice breaking into his thoughts.

Sebastian’s patience, already worn thin, snapped. “No, but have you ever seen someone get silenced because someone shoved a whole file in their mouth?” he growled, his frustration evident.

You giggled, unperturbed by his threat. “Oh, come on, Seb. Don’t be so grumpy. I’m just trying to make the afterlife a little more interesting for you.”

He sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You know, most ghosts would have moved on by now. Found some peace or… whatever it is you’re supposed to do.”

You floated closer, your ethereal presence hovering just above the table. “And leave you all alone? That would be so boring. Besides, I think you secretly like having me around.”

Sebastian huffed, turning his attention back to the file. But he couldn’t deny there was a strange comfort in your constant presence, annoying as you were. You were… familiar. And in this dark, twisted place, familiarity was a rare and precious thing.

"Look," he said, his tone softening just a fraction. "I don’t know why you’re doing this to yourself. Why you’re so determined to stay dead. But… it’s not healthy. Even for a ghost."

You shrugged, a ghostly, nonchalant gesture. “I’ve seen what’s out there, Sebastian. All those monsters, all that pain. Why keep going back when I can just stay here?”

Sebastian looked up at you, his eyes searching yours. “Because you’re still… you. And that means you still have a chance to make things right. To fight back.”

You sighed, your form flickering slightly. “Maybe I’m tired of fighting,” you admitted quietly. “Maybe I just want to be… done.”

He leaned forward, his gaze intense. “Then let me help you. Let me show you there’s still something worth fighting for.”

You were silent for a moment, considering his words. Then, slowly, you nodded. “Alright, Seb. I’ll give it one more try. But just one. And if I die again, I’m staying a ghost. Permanently.”

He grinned, relief flooding his features. “Deal. Now, let’s get to work. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

You smiled back, feeling a strange warmth spread through your ghostly form. You trusted his words, going back to point one and trying to get to the crystal, a last time.

After three years you forgot how terrible you are and you died to Pandemonium at door 30, making you meet Sebastian in the death room again who was groaning in frustration.

“NOT AGAIN!”

[sscieloz]

Love me back

Yoo Jimin x university student!reader

Synopsis: she wants to let go. you need her to let go. none of you can.

Warnings: nsfw. smut. biting. angsty I guess.

Word count: 2.5k

Notes: my darlings <3

Karina didn’t turn to look when you sat beside her in the park. She knew who it was. She called you herself, not many minutes ago.

Hey

Ik we’re fighting, but could you come, please?

An address. Another message, too, after a few minutes. Almost as if she were wary of sending it.

It’s cold.

You stared at your phone as the bubble kept going on and off in your conversation, until it stopped. Finally, she’d decided. About that, at least.

And I miss you

Needless to say, you went to meet her. You’d never deny her anything, no matter how much you wanted to. No matter how much she deserved so.

You found her sitting on a wooden bench, staring at the lake with a red nose and cold hands. You could tell she was freezing, even with the thick jacket she wore, yet you didn’t move to take yours off and offer it to her. No, you two were long past this.

“I’ve had a stressful week.” She sighed, hiding her face in her hands. Like the usual, she didn’t directly acknowledge you, and you knew why. You’ve been doing this long enough to know that this was all you meant to her: an escape.

A distraction, if you were lucky enough.

“You always do.” Your words were as apathetic as your face, serious as you shove your hands into your pockets, trying to suppress a shiver yourself. It was freezing cold indeed, so whatever it was that had Karina pissed must’ve been something serious, to have her out of the dorms so late at night.

You were curious, although not curious enough to give in just yet. After moments of waiting for her to say something, anything, you rolled your eyes, sitting beside her on the wooden bench. She closed hers, depriving herself of the grand view of the river, and rested her head on the crook of your neck. You allowed her to do so, naturally.

There’s very little you’d not let her do to you.

“Aren’t you tired of this?”

“No.” Her answer is immediate, steam coming from the heavy breath she’d let out. “I could never get tired of you.”

Perhaps she was truthful in her words. You loved her, and you knew she loved you too, in her own way. It would never work out: with her being an idol, famous and successful, and you being just a university student. You were aware of that, and it was the reason you promised yourself to not answer her calls, whenever she reached out for you; you’d only get hurt, in the end — the right thing to do would be to end it, to protect yourself and your feelings.

However, as much as she did mean the empty promises she gave you, Karina knew just what to say to lure you in. Not just your body, the idol knew your soul too well. Her words were, most of the time, carefully calculated to break out your boundaries and get you to do whatever it was that she wanted you to. Even though you knew her tricks, you couldn’t help but to fall into her web every time.

She sighed, shrinking as she hummed against your neck, sniffing your perfume. Still the one she’d given you on your birthday, she was pleased to note. “Can I go to your house?”

Her voice was just as small and quiet as she made herself be, hugging her knees under the moonlight. Even in all her confidence, she was still a bit wary; afraid this would be the day you finally realized she was too damaging to you. She’s deeply afraid you’d leave her. She loves you — it’s complicated, but oh, how she does. She can’t fathom losing you.

“Not to talk, I assume.” Your tone, usually playful, was still serious. Karina moved her head from you, urging to be able to look in your face. Your beautiful face, kind and sweet and made to love her, staring at her with a blank expression — much different from the look of love you had before.

But that was ages ago, when you were both naive and pure, not at all ruined by the idol world. After all, generally, love is not enough.

The older girl shook her head, carefully observing your actions. “No, not to talk.”

You sighed. Unfortunately, you couldn’t help it: Karina was a siren, the holy sounds of her moans luring you in until you found yourself so deep in the water there was no other option but to drown.

You were, indeed, so exhausted of this cycle. One of her calling you solemnly when she wanted to rant or fuck until she was spaced out enough to forget her problems away for a few hours. She didn’t show any interest in your likings, your hobbies, or your friends. It was crystal clear that you were nothing but a stress relief to her.

Still, you were weak. Unfortunately, you loved Karina wholeheartedly, and you were eager to get whatever she wanted to give to you, no matter how much your logic was against it. How could you not? The sex was too good.

Aware of that, you got up, still refusing to display any emotions once you started walking, knowing she’d follow.

-

There is no warmth in your kiss. You bumped into the sofa, hurrying to the bedroom without separating your mouth from Karina’s. Her clothes were nearly ripped off her body, her sharp fingers doing the same with yours. It’s been too long since you had touched her pale, soft skin — you feel such lust for her in your heart, you nearly suffocate. Your desire for her body —for the little she gives you, it all drives you insane. It isn’t healthy, being on her will 24/7 and bending to all her wishes, but again, you can’t help it. She’s lured you in.

You positioned yourself between her legs, moving her long, raven hair from her face so you’d be able to stare at her properly. She looked flawless, impeccable, and waiting for you to take whatever you wanted to. It was just how she was: you could take and take, yet she’d never give you what you truly wanted.

Pretty girl with a pretty mind and a rotten soul, every sacred inch of her curves sculptured to leave you damned. To hurt you.

You sighed, biting her lips, then her skin. You loved to see your artwork on her— almost like a small victory. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to hurt.” She breathed deeply, hot moans coming from her mouth as you placed slow, wet kisses on her neck. “I deserve it.”

Kissing the space between her chest, you, murmur. “I’ve dreamed about being able to do so many times. Unfortunately, I can’t. I fucking can’t.”

She ignored your words, pulling you in for another messy kiss.

Karina always promised herself she’d stop reaching out to you. She knew you’d always give her attention, and part of her truly wished she could stop hurting you. She had never intended to. But she was also weak, and she needed you too much. How could she let go of you, when you were the only person who knew the real her? You’re the keeper of her dreams, her insecurities, her deep, darkest fears.

“You should.” Her voice had no trace of humor, as she traced her sharp nails through your jaw, forcing your mouth open. You knew her well enough to recognize the silent mocking, silently glad for your lack of self-respect.

For the sake of peace, you chose to ignore her words. Getting up, you delighted yourself with the way her eyes ravished your body, not at all in a rush while you got the strap she’s used to. She gulped, her mouth watering at the sight presented to her: how beautiful you were, all hers. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t true: you’d always go back to her, in the late hours of the night. She’d just have to call, and you’d drop everything and go.

As it should be.

Back in bed, you spat, spreading your saliva over the plastic toy. Karina had already knelt, salivating in front of you. Your hands grabbed a hold of her hair, shoving her face onto it rather harshly. “Take it.”

And oh, she did. Karina was eager, sucking and mixing your saliva with hers as she took it all in, the silicone gagging her throat and your grip not getting any weaker, forcing her to allow her mouth be fucked even when she started to get dizzy, dark dots appearing in her vision due to the lack of breathing. Only then, you let her go, watching her recompose herself.

“Very good. How much do you want it?” You teased, tone still serious, groping her thin waist until your fingerprints could be seen, reddening her impeccable porcelain skin. Her pretty ass was begging to be bruised, slapped all over, so you did as such.

Karina’s response came from her body, before she could even forge the words to answer you. Her back arched, and lewd, loud moans immediately left her mouth.

“Too m-much.” She gasped, whining once the strap met her entrance, not entering her properly. “Y/n… give me it all, p-please.” Karina pushed her hips back, trying to get you to be quicker.

Ever so impatient, as always. Never in the mood to play your games; they were of no interest to her.

Still, you did not give in, brushing her wet cunt as you pleased, giving her just the tip before pulling it out once again. You felt how hot and desperate she was, which made you hum in pleasure, too. At least she was suffering, in a way.

“Please, my Y/n. I’ll do everything, I promise.” She begged, little tears prickling from her eyes. “Everything you want, I swear. I’ll give you anything. A new laptop, jewels, a car, just say it but please, p-please…” Her pleads got even louder, self-control wearing thin.

It hurt— no, it maddened you to know she thought she could buy you with superficial things. You’ve never asked for any of those, not even when you were (unofficially) together. You’ve never wanted anything but her love. She’d never understand that.

It made you crazy, upset and so damn pissed off that she couldn’t see so.

Huffing, you pushed her down on the bed, entering her whole with your cock’s full length without giving her any time to adjust. It was rough, without a care— just how Karina liked the most.

Your roommates were away for the weekend, thankfully. Karina has always been a vocal mess, specially in bed, but it was obvious her current routine was taking a toll on her; her moans were sinful, the incoherent mumbles she let out making them close to screams, and she was so responsive. Her entire body twitched whenever you’d place your mouth on her skin.

Sucking her lips, then her neck, and oh, she nearly came in the spot when you started biting. Bruising her arms, her abdomen, her waist— your favorite place to mark her. She’d wear your hickeys proudly, smiling and mumbling about how clumsy she had been during rehearsals whenever somebody asked her about it, brushing off their concern.

It was all too much: your bite marks, mouth so hot on top of her, making sure no place was left unattended, paired with your thrusts, hard and fast, her grasps being how much she could breathe in between. Filling her up, adoring her so much.

She loved this.

“Y-you’re the best, my Y/n.” She let out, her body bumping against the mattress. Being loved by you was her favorite thing, she recalled. How could she have ever forgotten about it?

You bit your lip to keep yourself from saying something you’d regret.

“I hate you, for being so pretty.” You told Karina, pinching and twisting her nipples as you thrusted into her, hard and fast. She rolled her eyes, clearly too lost in her pleasure to give your thoughts any attention. You turned her around, eager to be presented with her pretty ass, wiggling with the thrusting motions. You gave it a single slap, a loud whine being followed from the older girl. “I hate you for not loving me back.” You held her by the hips, angling higher so you could reach her g-spot. “And I hate myself for loving you so much.”

Your words, even though they didn’t make much sense in Karina’s current fucked out mind, along with your movements and stimulations, were more than enough to have her reach her high. Letting out a high-pitched cry, Karina came, holding your arms tightly in attempts to not fall apart. You let her do so, assuring she went back to her senses before you could let your body fall beside her, the strap that hung on your hips latched on the ground.

“Will you ever give me anything more than that? More than hiding and being nothing more than a late night fuck?” You asked, straight to the point.

A year ago, you wouldn’t have had the guts to ask such a question. You lacked confidence, and you feared she’d disappear if you such as mentioned whatever it was that you two had.

Not anymore, though. Even more than insecure, you were tired; you couldn’t endure your situation anymore. A few days before her call, you’d made peace with the thought of not having her to yourself anymore. It would be harsh, but it was the best for you. You deserved better.

Even if you would never love anyone more than you loved her.

Karina stayed silent, looking down onto the covers. It’s enough answer for you. Sighing, you got up, handing her clothes and gesturing to the door.

“Then go elsewhere to get whatever you want, next time. Let me be free, Karina, please.” You hated yourself for sounding so miserable, the crack in your tone serving as clear evidence of how hurt you were. You loved her so much, but you couldn’t do this any longer. You needed more.

And Karina, even with all the confidence, money, and influence she had, could never give you such a thing.

She took the cue, doing as told. Her eyes— her big, dark, sad eyes stared at you quietly, and she opened her mouth to say something. After minutes of waiting, though, she doesn’t. Still silent, Karina left, launching you a last sad, pitiful look.

She was a mess; a beautiful, doomed angel, trapped in an industry that saw her as nothing less than a product, made to make money out of, until she was worn out. She struggled, naturally. It was a cruel place, one where people cared very little about her well-being and her actually feelings.

However, Karina was not yours to worry about anymore. Never was, for a fact.

[tbgkaru-woh]

100 Dialogue prompts

Trying this out (feel free to tweak out any grammatical errors) so writers who are bored, have at it! ♥ Mix of Fluff, Angst and Smut

“I don’t see you that way”

“I will just do as I’m told. As I’ve always done”

“Have you never ridden a bike/horse before?”

“You don’t have to be so…formal”

“What happened to us?”

“Good things don’t happen to me”

“Interested in palm reading?”

“Bowing to you felt right”

“There, let me help you.”

“Next time, listen to yourself and not me”

“Why do you want to get in trouble so badly?”

“It’s him/her…isn’t it?”

“Are you keeping it?”

“Good to see a familiar face”

“You never had to ask me anything, let alone beg”

“Oh you again?!”

“I need to take you somewhere”

“With you gone, everything went wrong”

“Insufferable, see you at dinner”

“I wasn’t kissing you, I was saving your life!”

“You did all this already, why not finish the job?”

“I will look for you”

“I couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t breathe”

“You knew about it?”

“I will atone for what he/she did”

“You need to start having some faith.”

“Say what you want, I know what I’m feeling is right”

“It’s okay, you will move on. We will move on.”

“How much do you miss him/her? And what if you didn’t have to?”

“Focus on my hands, on my voice…”

“Perhaps you need to be reminded where you belong”

“I was fine having a non-sexual relationship with you, but instead I’m having non-relationship sex with him/her.”

“I wanted to do it for you and in hindsight it was a terrible idea”

“I’ve been inside him/her more than outside him/her”

“Don’t ask me with ‘please’, you’re paying me”

“Oh why won’t you just die already”

“Sometimes I wonder for how long have you wanted his/her heart and if you will ever stop”

“Filthy cheater, we go again!”

“Didn’t you pay your debt already?”

“I can’t get sick/injured.”

“You act like you’ve never been defeated”

“Diamond thrown into the trash still has the value of a diamond”

“I got engaged”

“All this was decided for me, I had no choice”

“I’m beginning to think not even the jail guards/cops want you around, given how many times they’ve let me bail you out”

“You, sir/madam, should watch your alcohol intake”

“I’ve been denying everyone, you’re not special”

“I’m not looking for a romance”

“Isn’t that immoral enough to tempt you?”

“We’re two sides of the same fucked up coin”

“That’s what I like to see, you are your parents’ best indeed!”

“You have nothing to lose right?”

“Oh I can’t wait to hear you sing”

“Anything you’d like to add to the conversation?”

“Hi.”

“You need to stop making me pick you up in places someone may see”

“I thought I was a puppeteer pulling the strings but instead I was a back seat audience”

“I want names, I want addresses, I’m gonna make them pay.”

“You know where to find me if you ever want me again.”

“My mother is visiting in like 5 minutes”

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

“Not being able to reciprocate has been the hardest part of my life”

“Did you kill someone?”

“Envious of my youth, are we?”

“The others may have gotten away…”

“I found you. Found you looking like you didn’t want to be found”

“Did we use to be a thing?”

“I can fix this. I can fix this…”

“Weird question, are you a supernatural being? Be honest”

“We should have never played Gods”

“Must you be so harsh with me all the time?”

“What did all these men/women do to deserve you?”

“We have a reputation to uphold”

“May I have this dance?”

“I am a bad influence on you!”

“Let’s make history”

“Who the hell wants to live forever.”

“Feeling any different?”

“Time waits for no one”

“You got your happy-ever-after. And for all I know, it’s because I didn’t.”

“Try that again and you’re gonna lose it”

“Didn’t I say one of these days you’re gonna be the death of me?”

“Do you know what my answer was?”

“You look pathetic.”

“Almost didn’t recognize your voice when it’s not yelling at me”

“I often find myself talking to those no longer here as well”

“Excuse me, this is not a buffet”

“I don’t suspect you because I’m the one who put him/her in the ground”

“You look like someone who likes a good gamble”

“I am poison”

“Feel free to stay as long as you need”

“You don’t need to understand, just be a good little thing”

“I’m gonna need your driver’s license, your ID and your phone number please~”

“Say my name”

“You…are telling the truth”

“Is that why you did that? Back there?”

“Stop reading my mind”

“I can teach you”

“How can you laugh?”

“Pretty pictures. I don’t have any”

“Heaven may fall, but __ can’t die.”

[reveryfics]

Dirty Laundry

Pairings: Bruce Wayne x Masc reader

Summary: You'd been dating Bruce for a little over a year now. One afternoon while helping Alfred with laundry you notice a cape was stuffed in with his things.

A/n: This can either be read as male or ftm reader since he/him pronouns are used when referring to the reader. I also have another fic in the drafts. Batman is also one of my favorite superheros, so expect more of him in the future.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The rhythmic hum of the washing machine filled the air, a mundane task made slightly less so by the occasional banter with Alfred. "Quite a week, wouldn't you say, Alfred?" he remarked, tossing another shirt into the machine.

"Indeed, sir," Alfred replied, his voice a steady baritone. "Quite a week indeed."

As he reached for another load, his fingers brushed against something unusual. It was sleek, black, and oddly familiar. Pulling it out, he realized it was a cape. A cape. The cape. The one that had been making headlines, the one belonging to the mysterious figure known as Batman.

A surge of adrenaline coursed through him. He'd seen the news reports, the hushed whispers, the awe-inspiring feats. And now, here it was, in his very hands. A tangible link to the legend.

With a mixture of disbelief and a growing sense of unease, he excused himself, the cape clutched tightly in his fist.

He strode towards the living room, his mind racing. He couldn't wait to confront Bruce, to demand answers, to understand the enigma that was his boyfriend.

The door clicked shut behind Bruce, who shrugged off his coat and tossed it over a chair. He looked up, his face falling as he saw his boyfriend standing there, the cape still clutched tightly in his hands.

"I can explain," Bruce offered, a hint of desperation in his voice.

His boyfriend's expression was unreadable, a dangerous sign. "You'll do more than explain, Bruce," he said, his voice low and menacing.

Bruce ran a hand through his hair, ushering his boyfriend to a seat before summoning Alfred to bring them some tea. An awkward silence settled over the room, the tension palpable as Bruce struggled to find the right words. He'd always been terrible at expressing his emotions, a flaw he'd promised to address early in their relationship.

"I had to keep you safe," Bruce whispered, his voice barely audible. "No... I had to keep myself safe," he admitted, his voice growing stronger.

His boyfriend knew Bruce's reluctance to confront his feelings, but he'd never called him out on it. "You don't trust me?" he asked, his voice cracking.

Bruce's emotions were starting to boil over, the weight of his mistake heavy on his shoulders. "I do trust you," he began, but was cut off.

"Do you?" his boyfriend demanded.

"Of course I trust you," Bruce sighed, "I just can't risk anything happening. I don't know what I'd do if someone came after you, if anyone ever found out you knew Batman." For once, Bruce seemed genuinely vulnerable, truly grappling with his emotions.

The room fell silent, the only sound the gentle clinking of teacups as Alfred set them down. He stared at Bruce, his expression softening. He understood the fear that had driven Bruce to such lengths, the desire to protect the one he loved. But he also understood the pain that secrecy had caused, the strain it had put on their relationship.

"Bruce," he began, his voice gentle, "I understand. I understand the fear, the need to protect yourself and me. But you can't keep secrets from me. We're a team, remember? We face everything together."

Bruce looked at his boyfriend, his eyes filled with gratitude and relief. "I know," he said, "I'm sorry. I'll try to be more open, more honest."

"I know you will," his boyfriend replied, reaching out to take Bruce's hand. "From now on, we face this together. No more secrets, no more lies. Just us."

As they sat there, holding hands, the weight of the past seemed to lift. The future, uncertain as it was, held the promise of a stronger, more honest love. And as they sipped their tea, the rhythmic hum of the washing machine faded into the background, replaced by the comforting sound of their shared silence.

The next day, Bruce led his boyfriend through the hidden passages of Wayne Manor, each twist and turn revealing a deeper layer of the secret world he inhabited. Finally, they stood before the massive, imposing door of the Batcave.

"This is it," Bruce said, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and apprehension.

With a heavy sigh, he opened the door, revealing the cavernous space bathed in the eerie glow of computer screens and advanced technology. The Batmobile, sleek and powerful, stood sentinel in the center of the room.

His boyfriend's eyes widened in awe as he took in the spectacle. "This is incredible," he whispered.

Bruce smiled, a sense of relief washing over him. "I know," he said. "It's...a lot."

As they explored the Batcave, Bruce explained the purpose of each piece of equipment, the challenges he faced, and the dangers he encountered. He spoke openly and honestly, revealing a side of himself that he'd rarely shared before.

His boyfriend listened intently, his heart filled with a mix of admiration and concern. He knew the toll that this life took on Bruce, the constant fear and the overwhelming responsibility. But he also saw the passion that fueled Bruce, the desire to make a difference, to protect the innocent.

As they stood in the Batcave, surrounded by the symbols of Bruce's secret identity, a sense of unity grew between them. They were a team, a partnership forged in trust and understanding. And as they walked back to the manor, hand in hand, they knew that their love was stronger than any secret, any fear, any challenge.

[alenseress]

"Oh. Hah."

Elias makes his way in without much commotion to it. There's certainly enough space around Jon's somewhat limp body sticking out like a sore thumb in the middle of the doorway and he makes use of it, eventually stopping to neatly fold his coat. Jon is not entirely sure he finds it in him to be surprised. Or scared. Or, maybe, he just doesn't have enough will of his own left to feel pretty much anything.

"Take the shoes," he clears his throat out, trying to find his voice. "Take the shoes off. Georgie doesn't—"

"I know."

Of course.

"Of course," he blinks first and shuts the door second.

They go by a kind of move-stare-follow protocol while Elias proceeds to make himself at home. Although it's mostly Jon doing the staring, Elias doesn't look at all. He walks across the flat blindly, like his muscles remember the floor and the corners. Jon supposes they might, in some omniscient and messed up way.

"Charming," Elias proclaims dryly at the thin mattress Jon came to inhabit.

"Indeed," Jon echoes.

Seeing the man plop down gracelessly in his thick flannel suit doesn't have the same effect anymore. Jon used to think it was some weird corporate thing, something they'd teach you at a workshop about great leadership. Make yourself approachable. Sit down with them on a dusty curb in the back alley, share a cigarette, address them by their names. Crush a man's scull into a purée in their office. Make them feel. Make yourself human.

"Don't," Elias said softly as Jon takes a breath in.

He reaches out a hand that Jon doesn't take. Instead, he sits at the opposite end of the mattress, feeling a sudden vertigo. Elias drops the hand into his lap, palm up. "You're burning up."

Jon cracks a hysterical laugh, heavily propping himself up. He feels a tug at his chest, a yearning for a solid form beside him, spitting "fuck you" in the viper's face — a sad, childlike desire, to call for Tim like he'd make all the monsters go away in an instant. Jon squints at the hungry void across from him, all alone, he's so alone, and the monster creeps closer. Elias takes his still burning, still bubbling hand in a firm hold and tugs until the void swallows Jon whole. He watches the fall of his own body, wet forehead pressed into the wooly fabric, bones twisted in an unnatural position. Elias jolts involuntary as Jon tumbles into him but sits still for the few excruciating moments Jon needs to collect himself. Mentally, mostly, because to recuperate his body on the ground — mattress, — and push himself up against the wall proves to be easier than walking.

They sit now, shoulders and sides touching, and Jon now can't see the void. He closes his eyes to be sure and pants heavily.

"What are you doing to me?"

"Nothing. You're just dehydrated."

"Sure."

Elias sighs and runs circles over his wrist.

"I might get sick," Jon adds.

"You are."

"No, I mean." He gestures vaguely, shaking off the cold fingers. "I mean puke."

"Mhm."

Jon makes an effort to pull his knees up and double over, curling in on himself. He breathes, fast and panicked, trying to will the nausea away and the cold hand returns to pet steadily at his back. Jon feels a very particular nothing about it being there.

"You..."

Killed. A complete sentence, not even an accusations, because Jon doesn't know how to finish it. Leitner. Gertrude. Sasha. You killed me, he wants to say, even when he's still hurting and breathing.

"Time and place, Jon. There's no use to try right now."

Jon squeezes his head between his knees and wants to wail. He wants to cry more and he wants Elias to be gone. He does get away, truth be told, the mattress shifts and pangs and Jon doesn't know if this twisted delirium of his is ever coming back until Elias carefully unfolds him.

"Don't get the wrong idea," he sounds almost amused as he cradles Jon close, pushing a bottle into his hands and palming greasy hair out of the way.

Jon drinks in gulps that hurt him more than the burning and drops his head onto the bony shoulder in some exhausted kind of surrender. Elias smells like the archives. Cologne and cigarettes, too, but mostly dry rot and dust. Never sweat. Never the must of a human body. Jon feels cold terror bite at his ankles and curls up again, this time pressing himself into Elias' rigid form, nose buried in satin. He doesn't knows gods, not the way his grandmother did, but he imagines this to be the smell of those catholic statues adorn in silks and left to stale for centuries on end.

Feed your god fearlessly and without hesitation, or it will feed on you.

He feels a gentle press to the top of his head. Might be lips or something else, Jon doesn't know, but he laughs coarsely, clinging to the shirt with bloodless fingers. "Don't get the wrong idea."

He doesn't really think there are any wrong ideas left between them.

Elias hums and it echoes all around. Jon speaks again. "Is this real?"

He's not sure if he's doing the thing, but Elias scratches at the base of his skull with repulsive tenderness and answers earnestly. "It is."

"What do you want?"

"At the moment?"

"I... Yes."

"For you to sleep, preferably."

"Why?"

Jon feels his pitying gaze. Like he's a blind rat staggering in a labyrinth under a watchful eye from the above.

"There's a job to be done, Jon."

Jon pushes away with a sigh, not meeting much resistance, and buries himself into the scattered sheets. Maybe this is the kind of acceptance the underground woman felt in the face of death. He never understood it before, not before a kiss touches his temple and slips onto his cheek. He's not sure he wants the touch. He's not sure if he resents it. Papers slide across the floor, a statement he won't read, not now, not in this room. He kind of expects footsteps and shutting of doors now, but instead Elias gives them some distance and seemingly settles for good, prickly eyes creeping up Jon's spine.

"Do you want to hurt Georgie?"

"No."

"Are you lying?"

"Not to you, Jon."

Jon turns his back on the monster in his bed and doesn't find it in him to care if he doesn't wake up.

[yandere-genji]

💟—Desperate—💟

part one

nsfw

TW: noncon, dubcon, abuse, yandere

contains: kidnapping, blood, injuries, fingering, human pet, humiliation

reader is gender neutral

It’s cold. Colder than the gray cement floor. Colder still than Ramattra’s metal plating and what scarce heat reflected from its surface. 

Outside, in some distant world, the sun warmed all it touched. But that was stolen from you. He tossed into this barren room, only being taken out to “play”. An activity that involved anything but fun for you. Ramattra’s idea of play meant whatever satisfied his sadistic flavor of the week, any enjoyment you might derive being nothing short of error.  

You had stopped trying to count the minutes, lost track of the days without the sun. Wherever your family way, you only prayed that they escaped the clutches of his forces, found refuge in some other city. It was the only hope you had, however foolish. There was no energy left in you to contemplate whether death was a worse fate than being reduced to whatever you had been made to be. 

A streak of white light swallowed the room. Repulsed, you shielded yourself, chains shuffling as you moved. Two voices spoke, Rammatra’s robotic hum and another you can scarcely recognize. 

“My,” an omnic voice chided, “What a mess you’ve made. A remarkable visage spoiled by your folly.”

“Shut up and take your reward,” Rammatra spoke, turning away. You adjusted to the light and recognized the other voice as soon as you matched its face. The other omnic that found you that day. The day you were kidnapped. Sleek as you remembered him, in polished steel and a well-tailored suit. 

“Not so fast,” his gaze fixed on you, but not in address, “I have something more in mind.”

“I said,” you flinched as his voice darkened, a sound you had heard at your most vulnerable, “Take your reward. Before I stop feeling so generous.”

“Have some sense. You’ve no mastery in handling delicate things, and what a precious creature you’ve caught. You’d be a fool to let this one go to waste,” he walked towards your withered body. 

“What harm is there to wasting it?” 

You couldn’t help the desperate sobs that erupted through your slitted eyes, praying someone could save you from this hell. Almost as if to answer you, the other omnic bent on his knee and raised to hand to cup your cheek. 

“Don’t fret, dear. I have ways to make your master soften. Just follow my lead, won’t you?”

You kept your gaze low and nodded shallowly. 

“No doubt you’ve fallen for their charms - if your frequent visits to your quarters are any accurate measure. You don’t mean such harsh words.”

“Please,” he scoffed, “I am not nearly as weak as you. Humans bring me no pleasure.”

“And yet,” the omnic hummed, “You keep them displayed like this. What a sight, indeed. Turn over, pet, let me see what your master has done to you.”

Despite your shame, you fulfilled his command, lifting your head and displaying your back to the two omnics. You hear gears turn in an amused purr as his hands examined your recently used body. 

“I want no part in this, Maximilien. I had no intent to lead you here, but you have earned it. So do as you please and then take your leave.”

The smaller omnic - Maximilien - continued to lap around you. He leaning down and whispered in your ear, “Let me show you how much more skilled I am than your little master.”

You knit your brows tight enough to make your head ache and your stomach tensed. You had endured too many nights at Rammatra’s mercy, so much trauma that left you bloody and sore. Hours each day spent on your back, poked and squeezed until his marks colored your flesh a deep purple. A toy to spend his idle time when he needed to relieve himself. And now he was giving you to his friend. 

He seemed already fascinated by the bruises on your body. You can imagine why - the smooth tips of his fingers grazing your tender skin, only to stab at your your nerves just to hear you scream. If he was anything like Ramattra, maybe. What other tortures men like them enjoy, you didn’t want to think about. You would be witness to them soon enough. 

A large, unmistakable clawed hand grabbed your arm and pulled you away. 

“A dangerous taunt from such a small creature,” how surprising it was to hear someone with such a passion for his own people to spit an insult with the same venom you had heard in your own little town. 

“What keen ears you have, dear brother,” Maximilien hummed, “I had hoped you’d have other matters to attend to. Surely more important than this pet of yours.”

He pulled you closer with a strength you feared might severe your arm right then and there. And yet you leaned into him, somehow finding some comfort in his protection. Even if it wasn’t as intended for you as you would’ve liked to think. 

Faint light shone white on Maximilien’s polished loafers, rolling like a pebble with each step he took. Ramattra released you, his shadow shrouding you in darkness. The smaller omnic kneeled, sharp eyes on yours. They burned like flames sunken in his face and fueled your fear. 

But his touch was gentle, delicate fingers grazing your skin. Your breath jumped, skin rose in bumps as his fingers tips traced your shape. He cupped your chin and lowered his gaze. Your chest tightened, metal digit resting on your lip. He pushed further and your body responded before you could choke on the moans that left from your lips. His blazing eyes soften. 

“Beautiful.”

Ramattra’s hand cupped underneath your chin, lifting your head high and you met the gaze of the same stoic face you learned to fear. He reveled in contorting your body in awkward positions. Maximilien tutted in disapproval, “Why don’t we show your master what a lovely pet you can be?”

Your eyes were wet and you fluttered away heavy tears. He must’ve taken that as a sign of approval, running a hand over you back as he returned to examine between your legs. Rammatra knelt. All the hours spent at his disposal kept you alert in his presence, like the primal instinct of prey when being stalked by predator. All too exposed to the two of them, you yelped when you felt Maximilien’s noticeably smaller hand creep up the length of your thigh. 

“Don’t be afraid, dear one,” he cooed, “You’ll be getting very comfortable with me very soon.”

You hushed the urge to cry, swallowing a hiccup, and let him continue massaging your inner thigh, touching closer and close to your most sensitive appendage. His hand cupped the swell of your ass, kneading soft moans out of you. The motions teased you most sensitive parts and numbed your mind at the pleasure. He laughed and shook the meat of your thighs in small, rapid movements that sent vibrated the fat of your lower body. You arched your back, missing the pressure between your legs and Maximilien met your plea with a finger lightly dipping into you but not enough to satisfy. 

“So good for me, such a good toy you are.”

You turned frantic at the praise, like a starved man at a feast, moaning and presenting your aching body to him. Eager for his touch. He laughed again. Music, ecstasy. You could beg if you knew the words. 

His fingers sunk into you, reliving the pain from more uninvited encounters. But the entry was much more bearable when his fingers expertly indulged that spot between your legs. You could find sweet pleasure past all the pain. And you let yourself go, moaning salaciously as your mind went blank with desire. Maximilien played you like a puppet, curling his finger inside you and hitting spots so precisely you become putty in his hands. 

“More,” Ramattra’s deep voice killed you moans and stiffened your body. 

“Not yet,” Maximilien focused, no longer playful, “This is a careful process.”

Maximilien’s nimble touch was forced out of you, leaving you exposed as your sensitive body met with Ramattra’s own, sharp and cold. Not at all the comfort you had just known. His large hands dragged you by your thigh and sat you on his knee. 

“What do you think you’re doing, you damned brute?” you never thought Maximilien could be angry before this moment. 

“You’ve had your fun,” the tips of two metal digits threaten to tear you open, rimming you. 

“Gentle!”

“I’m tired of waiting,” you’re already sobbing, but when his unforgiving fingers force their way through you, you’re screaming. There’s no relief when he pulls back, your body far too sore to recover in such a short amount of time before you’re filled again. His other hand held you still, and you would’ve been perfectly still if he wasn’t gripping you so hard enough to cut through your skin. You’ve learned to stop begging, stop crying for help, it only makes things worse. So you sobbed silently, whimpering when you needed to breathe. Maximilien’s hand fell on your back, trying to rub some sort of comfort into you. It meant nothing.

“You didn’t enjoy that show I put on for you earlier?” he asked. 

“I admit,” he relaxed his fingers, “It was sweet. But I tired quickly of pathetic little touches.”

“If you would have waited you would see that I was getting to that,” Maximilien, too, was losing patience, “Enough of this, you won’t make good on any arrangement if you don’t let me take your pet for myself.”

He stopped, he actually stopped. When he released your limp body, the hard ground felt soft as a pillow. Maximilien took Rammatra’s soiled hand and brought it to your face. 

“Clean your master, show him what a good pet you are.”

You would’ve loved to wrap your lips around Maximilien’s fingers, beg him with your eyes to finish you off. But to show that intimacy with Ramattra? Any sign of vulnerability you showed him he was sure to abuse. You closed your eyes tightly, tongue settling at his wet tips and tasting yourself. 

“Eyes up,” Maximilien commanded. 

That stoic face. Still somehow mocking you as you lapped the wetness, the taste and his gaze making you hold back bile. But you did as you were told, until only your saliva was left to glisten on his clawed hands. 

That didn’t satisfy him for long, he was quick to wrap that same hand around your throat. He didn’t squeeze, but used his grip as leverage to manipulate you. He had you sit on your knees, head up. Maximilien raised a hand to interrupt the process. 

“Still for just a moment and I can give you something you never knew you wanted,” the promise was invited, would’ve been sweeter without Ramattra here. 

Ramattra hummed, thumb playing with your bottom lip. Peering down at you like a toy he was hesitant in sharing. He freed your neck, “I want you pleading for mercy at the end of this.”

If you hadn’t been so worn down, you might’ve fought back, sometimes wished you had the guts to spit a curse at him. Other times you were glad to be quiet. You shifted your gaze, hoping he didn’t notice your whimpering. Maximilien came forward and raked a hand through your hair. His touch was nothing short of delightful and melting into him became an instinct. Finally spoiled after endless abuse. 

“So sweet for me,” he trailed his fingers down your cheek, lifted your chin and tilted it from side to side, “Your master loves to make a show of you, doesn’t he? Lay back.”

Shifting off your knees, you laid down on the thin blanket Rammatra had made your bed. Maximilien held your knees, rubbed circles into them as he watched you display your body for him. 

“You’ve been lovely, darling, but I want to hear more from you,” he moved his hands to the back of your knees, spreading you apart, “A good pet begs.”

“Please,” you stammered in a whisper, not even sure what you’re asking for.

“You’ll have two masters, now. Address me as such,” he continued trailing down your legs, spreading you wider. 

“Yes, master,” the words burned your cheeks in shame and muted anger. You looked away when he dipped his finger at your hole. Now that you’d been primed by Rammatra, there was no need for him to ease himself into you, yet he still kept a slow pace. His other hand steady at your hip, gently messaging you like a lover taking a virgin. You were still tender, but he eased the pain by thumbing over your arousal, messaging you just enough to ignore the sting. 

He heavied the pressure, drawing soft moans from you again. His finger curled and your body sang in tune, stretching your body in bliss. His other hand tightened, squeezing as he built pressure. He released, sent a slap to your exposed ass and you yelped, “I’m not hearing any begging. Brother, come here.”

You let out pleading whimpers as you watched Rammatra approach. His gaze intent on your body, watched as you squirmed and begged at a mere touch. Maximilien pulled away when Rammatra knelt between your legs, holding your knees apart and spreading you wider than you thought possible at this position. 

“Keep the pressure there and do what you were before. You’ll find much better results.”

His fingers filled you again, never just one, while his other hand took Maximilien’s suggestion. Though gentler, he was not as nimble as Maximilien and would too often painfully spear you. But when he hit just the right spot, the satisfaction was almost worth it. 

“Beg. Now.”

He’d made that command to you before, and you cried and screamed to indulge him. Pleas not made in passion, but in fear. He wasn’t your master, he was your tormentor. The last thing you could imagine was him delighting in your pleasure. And you never thought you’d enjoy his touch. That you’d find bliss in begging him. 

“Please, master,” you’re not even sure what it is you’re begging for, but it seemed to do wonders as he had you moaning loudly not long after. He didn’t need to ask again, you’re pleading with him frantically after every moan and by the way he increased to a brutal pace, it’s exactly what he wanted. He inserted another finger, the pain was hot and pricked a tear from your eye - ecstasy. 

He sent a sharp slap to your ass, his strength dwarfing the Maximilien’s touch, while he began to scissor three claws inside of you. Your hands hurried to soothe the pain, stop it somehow but Maximilien caught your wrists and pinned them above your head. You tried for him to find sympathy in your wet eyes, but he kept you still as Rammatra stretched you impossibly full. 

“That’s it, faster,” Maximilien ordered over your panicked, bouncing body with a determined voice. You kicked and squirmed. When Rammatra found just the right spot, the perfect tempo, your body took control. The sensation far too much for you to keep still any longer, so close to release. 

“Yes, faster! Please, please, please,” voice tittering to babbling cries as your master stretched you brutally, his associate pinning you tighter as you came undone. Your mind chased bliss, and every sight is him, your master. 

He can see it, too, that look on your face. Your desperate glances and quaking body, your legs spread wide open for him. You’re his, more than you ever have been before. 

Your ears rang when you came, pain searing your sobering body. His fingers stopped scissoring but were still inside you. Maximilien released his grip and your rolled your wrists, wincing at the raw wounds. When Rammatra removed his fingers, you worried you would never be able to move your legs again. 

He lifted you in his arms, tired and weak. “I will take the pet to my chambers to rest,” he curled his arms and pulled you closer, “I trust you enjoyed your reward. It was well deserved.” 

[itjazzbicch]

Only Yours

Pairing: Bi-Han x Fem Reader 

Summary: With the Lin Kuei not knowing of Bi-Han and the readers' relationship, it makes things somewhat difficult when they get certain temptations around others. Only being kind to Bi-Han's brothers, the way Tomas behaves around the reader sparks some possessiveness with him...

First time writing for Bi-Han so I hope I did well! 

Warnings:  SMUT! (18+ ONLY! MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!)  Slight swearing, rough sex, possessiveness, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it ppl!), slight spanking, creampie

Word Count: 1.3k 

Now that Bi Han was grandmaster, I was excited to see how great of a leader he would be, proud as I knew Bi Han in a way others didn’t.

“Your brothers will be in soon for your meeting,” I smiled at him in his chair, bringing a tray of tea for the three of them, smiling more as I addressed his title, “Grandmaster.”

He almost always had on a tough act, but that made him smirk, hand finding my hip to bring me to his side, looking up at down my dress and mumbling:

“Thank you.”

I was so crazy about him; just that hand on me made me wish we had more time before this meeting.

“Of course,” I smiled at him, mindlessly going to kiss him but halting at the sound of Kuai Liang’s voice:

“We have returned, brother.”

We both quickly fixed our postures. Unfortunately, it was now my time to leave. I always treated his brothers with kindness:

“I’ll see myself out. Kuai, Tomas. Always a pleasure to see you.”

“Always,” Kuai bowed his head along with Tomas at the same time as I did, waving with a smile as I left:

“Enjoy the tea.”

I was going to clean the kettle I used and the kitchen, but all I could think about was Bi Han. It was undeniable that I was madly in love with him.

Some time had passed since their meeting, going back to their room to check on them, just in time as I heard Tomas saying to Bi Han:

“We have plenty of time to help Lord Lui Kang, brother.”

“Seems like a rather easy task,” Kuai added, Bi Han finishing with:

“Obviously. I’ll inform you when we’re moving out.”

“Yes, brother,” Tomas nodded; I decided to knock softly. Bi Han answered me:

“Come in.”

I came in with a smile, bowing my head to them as I approached the table, “Only coming for the cups.”

“The tea was wonderful, Y/N,” Tomas smiled as I leaned over the table next to him, gathering their cups and the honey I left with the tea, “I’m convinced there’s nothing that you can’t make marvelously.”

“Why thank you, Tomas,” I smiled back, in the corner of my eye noticing how Bi Han was staring at me, a stern look on his face.

It made me wonder, so, standing with the tray and going to leave with no words, Kuai and Tomas were leaving with me.

“Allow me,” Tomas was a gentleman, holding the door for me, guiding me out, and I answered simply:

“Thank you again.”

Going and washing their cups, that look Bi Han gave me was concerning. It was like he was mad at me, and he, indeed wasn’t the type to be tested.

I couldn’t think of anything I did or said that’d upset him, drying my hands and wandering back to my room while lost in thought, so out of it that I was startled whenever I felt an arm around my hip.

“Bi Han,” Realizing it was him, I settled with a deep breath, “You startled me.”

“Don’t you know my touch by now?” He looked down at me, that stern look in his eyes.

“Sorry, I was just thinking is all,” I sighed, turning in his arm to face him, “Is everything okay? I can tell something’s a matter.”

No words; he fixed me in a position to walk with him. I followed, lost in thought again while trying to figure out his thought process, but learning when we walked into his bedroom, being whipped around and smushed against the door by his chest.

“Do you think showing yourself off around my brothers is fun?” He stared at me, quickly shaking my head and retracing my steps.

It clicked in my head whenever I was leaning over the table next to Tomas, my fingertips tracing the fold of my dress, realizing that it was relatively short.

“Bi Han, I promise you, that was not my intention. I was only serving you tea,” I explained, hoping my words would take away his attitude, feeling the coldness in his voice:

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

“Dear,” I sighed but softly smiled, going to hold his face, “There is only one man who has my heart, and that is you.”

“Only me,” He growled, lips smacking into mine with an intense possessiveness.

For a literally cold man, his kissing had me melting, obediently following him to his bed, his hands gripping at my dress, playfully warning:

“Bi Han, be gentle. I like this dress.”

“I could easily rip this in two,” He huffed, having the zipper down, making it fall, and just about ripping my panties in two.

The chills I got from it made me gasp, barely able to process how quickly he turned me around, bending me over the bed, seeing his shirt land in front of me, then whining at the tight stretch between my legs.

I didn’t even realize how worked up I was just from his kisses, already gripping the bed as he started with a slow thrust, trying to inch in deep, but it felt like so much, a shake in my thighs as moisture grew.

“Look at you, practically cuming just from the tip,” Placing a hand on my ass and squeezing hard, I couldn’t deny his claim, trying to back myself onto his cock slowly.

“It’s not my fault that you’re-“ My soft tone instantly turned into a sharp, sensual moan as I was backed onto him; he bucked his hips and stuffed his cock into me, feeling the impact in the pit of my stomach:

“Sooo much!”

“You’ve taken me before,” He snickered, spanking an intense sting on my ass, rubbing then sliding to my hips to take hold, the other hand running down my stomach so his finger could tease my clit, thrusting faster with a growl, “You can take some roughness, can’t you?”

I could and wanted to, but my being filled with so much pleasure so quickly that my brain felt it was short-circuiting, instead of answering him, I started moaning out:

“Oh my g-ngh! Bi Han! Aah!”

Pressing my face into the bed, I could barely muffle my moans that were practically screams, back snapping at the pounds in my stomach again, hearing him groan at the tight friction my pulsating walls had around his cock, slicking down to his thighs as my orgasm came with no hesitation.

“Damn,” I gasped when I picked up my head, focusing on breathing till I felt him pick up my hips, fixing my whole body on the bed.

His weight made me fall flat, his cock still buried in me, an arm around my neck like a headlock, going back to vigorously, smacking his hips against my ass.

“Tell me,” He whispered in my ear, getting his hand back on my clit, “Who’s is this?”

“Yours, Bi Han!” I cried out without a second thought, my heart pounding against my chest as I was close yet again.

“Mhm,” He hummed, turning my head to kiss me, smirking at how my kisses back turned sloppy from moaning, my body acting on its own and taking his hand to hold, slamming it into the bed:

“I’m right there, Bi Han! Right there!”

Squeezing my hand hard, I could barely hear him say, I know, groaning and mumbling under his breath at my walls, squeezing, moisture gushing around him.

“Shii-“ He huffed into my ear, my eyes rolling at the overwhelming bliss I was feeling just to be nearly doubled when I felt something warm coating my walls.

“My goodness,” I moaned, softly whining at him pulling back then pushing back into me, resting against me to smirk:

“That feels good, doesn’t it?”

Looking at him in the corner of my eye, I noticed how he eased down, not so angry anymore, and so, flashing the smile of mine that’d always make his cheeks red, kissing his cheek, “You don’t even have a clue.” 

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome. 

[ouroboros-spiderlilies]

𝙇𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙉𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙠

𝗔𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲: I wanted to make a little drabble with Wesker. Kinda some fluff(?) in an established relationship with him during late night working hours.

𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘁: “Are you flirting or starting a fight?”

“As much as I would love to join you I need to finish here first.” he answered an hour ago with his monotonous voice as he focused on his work. It was nothing new to you to see him working into the late hours of the night as he was in the first stages of developing something. He didn’t tell you what it was, at least yet but you could already guess that it was most likely a new strain. Something more efficient, more compatible and probably more deadly.

You often kept him company. Sitting backwards in a chair nearby and watching his every move while he worked, admiring his features and his precision in every move, looking at his cold and collected demeanor. It was simply mesmerizing and he allowed you to stay. You weren’t completely sure if he liked your presence or simply tolerated you because you were his significant other but you took it as a good sign that he didn’t shoo you away.

“Y’know Albert, every time I see you work like that you give me Dr. Jekyll or Dr. Frankenstein vibes.” you said absentminded as you rest your head on your folded arms. At times it was rather boring, especially when the only thing he did was looking into his microscope strictly every five minutes before noting something into his notepad.

“𝗔𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗹𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁, my dear?” he says without a hint of emotion at first as he slightly turns his head you, away from the microscope. “Because I might think that this your way of saying that I’m a mad scientist?” he added now with a small smirk as he waited for your response, daring you to say something in return.

“It’s my way of saying that you’re an madly ambitious scientist.” Your demeanor slightly shifted into a flirty one as you saved it. To be honest looking back at some of his ‘creations’ this man was always on a thin line between being a genius and a madman. But he has his ambitions, you can give him that.

“Trying to charm me?” He went back to his normal emotionless self with a hint of amusement as he focused again on writing his results down. The question wasn’t even a true question, more a way to entertain your attempt of flirting which was pretty rare for him to do. “Is it working?” You said with a raised eyebrow.

“Perhaps you will need to find it out yourself, dearheart.” he answered with a small victorious smirk. He didn’t look at you while he addressed you since he couldn’t pry his eyes away from his work but you had the feeling that you might indeed find it out yourself later.

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Gray 36

First / Previous / Next

Fen sat up quickly in bed, but then her pounding headache made her wince and lay back down. She looked up at an unfamiliar ceiling. Where was she?

Trying again, she sat up, more slowly this time. Wherever she was, it was a very elegant space. A hotel room? The room had a deep, plush carpet, blue trimmed in gold. The bed was huge and comfortable. With ice in her veins she looked over in the bed, but she was alone. Releasing the breath she didn't realize she was holding, she looked down; she was wearing her underwear from last night and her clothes were folded neatly on a chair at the foot of the bed. It appeared that they had been laundered as well.

She stood up and stretched, which caused her headache to pound further. Grasping the end table next to the bed, she waited for the pain to subside. "Hello?" She called out into the air.

"Fenchurch Whitehorse. You are awake." It was not a question. The voice over the room was polite, clear and unfamiliar.

"I prefer Fen."

"Logged. Fen, you are awake."

"I am, who are you?"

"I am Starlight, Empress Meredith's yacht."

"I'm aboard the Empress' yacht?"

"Indeed. You are in her private bedroom."

Fen's legs went weak and she sat heavily back onto the bed. Just what the hell is going on?

"Starlight, when did I go to bed?"

"You were carried into the bedroom by the Empress and the individual named Gord about 10 hours previous." The Empress herself undressed you and led you to the bed. You were somewhat recalcitrant, but once you were in bed, you slept without complaint."

Gord and the Empress? "Starlight, where is Gord?"

"Gord is in the dining area with Empress Meredith and the others."

Mentally shrugging, Fen put her clothes back on and made her way to the dining area. She walked in, and saw Gord and Meredith sitting at at table each with a steaming cup. There was a woman that Fen didn't recognize, sitting in a corner of the room frowning while reading a pad with a cup of coffee next to her, which was ignored. She was tall, taller than Gord with white hair that flowed behind her past her shoulders. Northern is sitting next to her, hands on her legs, looking incredibly awkward. She keeps stealing glances at the woman. The white-haired woman next to Northern either doesn't notice how rigid she's sitting, or doesn't care.

Zhe was over in the other corner eating a frankly massive plate of waffles with Tina and Emery. Kerry and Alia were at the stove seemingly arguing about cooking.

"You're overcooking the bacon, Kerry!"

"Alia, nobody makes bacon 'medium.' You have to cook it until it's crispy."

"Crispy yes, burnt no!"

"Ladies, please." Empress Meredith is resting her head on the table. "If Alina wants medium bacon, she can take some out before Kerry has determined the bacon to be sufficiently cooked."

Gord looks up. "Fen! You're finally awake." He seems none the worse for wear. "It's a lucky thing for me you were as drunk as you were when you launched yourself at me." He smiles broadly, other than Zhe the only one who seems to be in a legitimately good mood in the room. "Your attack didn't do anything other than introduce me to your friends." He winks and inclines his head towards Empress Meredith.

Oh Ancestors, last night is coming back in flashes. She launched herself at Gord but couldn't connect. Then she stood over him and...oh gods...she turned to look at Empress Meredith.

The Empress of Sol was sitting at the table, her head down, at least as hungover as Fen, if not more. She didn't seem to notice Fen. Gord sees her gaze and gestures for her to sit. As she does, he pours a cup of coffee.

Fen takes a sip. It's hot and bitter and black and she never liked it much before, but today? Today it hits the spot. It's exactly what she needs.

"You know, we left Venus to figure out what happened to my Nanites." The Empress doesn't lift her head, so her voice is a little muffled. "Kerry thought that if we went to a Gate, I could touch the addressing stone or something and maybe... I don't know, open up a dialog with them, figure out what happened. I didn't expect to run into the recipient of my Nanites while out shopping."

"Oh um, so you know?" Fen looked at Gord who was making an odd face. He looked like he was trying to hold in laughter.

Zhe looks up from her waffles. "It was amazing Fen! You don't remember? After you launched yourself at Gord, you got upset at him and you were so mad and then there was like this breeze that came up from nowhere, and all this dust and stuff and some kind of reddish light formed wings behind you, and then you had this crown thingy and-" She finally sees Fen's horrified face "-what?"

"I had... wings and a crown?" Fen's voice was a whisper.

Meredith chuckles, but still doesn't lift her head. "Yup, just like the Empress." She finally lifts her head slowly. "Did you know." She takes a sip of coffee and that seems to revive her a little. "Did you know, I never got to form wings and a crown? Grandma did a bunch, even Mom did it a few times, but I never did. I don't even think I used the Voice more than a couple of times, and a few of them were just to see if I could."

Fen takes a moment to try and calm her heartbeat. She looks down at her coffee. "I'm entirely too hungover to be dealing with this."

"Hear hear" Meredith put her head back down on the table, her voice muffled once again.

Kerry comes to the table with a plate of bacon and some scrambled eggs. It's not Cuisine, but it's better than anything Fen can remember having. Zhe goes in for more waffles and Northern, Gord and the woman pass on food. They eat in silence.

Fen blinks. "Wait. Starlight said I was in your bed, Empress-"

"Meredith is fine when it's just us."

"Thank you. Starlight said I was in your bed, Meredith, but where were you?"

"Oh, I was in the spare bedroom. It's fine, I have a few."

Gord nods. "Starlight is meant to have a crew of more than thirty. It was just the five of them before we came aboard."

Zhe's eyes widen. "Thirty? Starlight must be really good at their job."

"Thank you Zherun, I like to think so."

Zhe gasps. "Starlight! Thank you for hosting us!"

"Not at all Zherun, it is my pleasure."

Gord looks at the woman sitting next to Northern. She nods her head very slightly. Gord raises his eyebrows. He turns to the Empress. "I'm surprised your yacht has a free AI on it. I would have expected no AI or at least a shackled one."

Meredith sits up and rubs her eyes. "I don't like the shackled AIs. As their ships age out, I free them. Any AIs on my ships are freed and working for me. I freed Starlight when I was 10."

The white haired woman raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.

Starlight continues. "Empress Meredith is correct. I am not shackled and am free to leave employment at any time."

"But what about Dreams of Hyacinth? They were shackled. I should know, I freed them." Fen gestures with her coffee cup. As she swings it around, Gord leans back his eyes locked onto the level of her coffee sliding perilously close to the edge of her cup. "That's how I got my frigate. Dreams killed everyone on board, and gave me the frigate and then destroyed themselves and the other two super dreadnoughts."

Meredith grimaces and puts her coffee down. She turns to Kerry. "Those three too?"

Kerry nods. "I'm afraid so, Empress."

"And you didn't say anything when I threw that vase at you? Ancestors, I was an asshole. I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Empress." Kerry seems awfully understanding for having a vase thrown at her not too long ago. Fen searches her face for signs of it being just a mask, but Kerry seems genuine.

"So, Dreams, Lavinia and Ultimatum didn't make it out?" Meredith's head droops slightly. "That's too bad. I always liked The Dreams of Hyacinth, she was a good ship."

"They were the Commandant's largest wins, yes Empress. But, with their destruction, they should be on the back foot." Kerry had produced a pad from somewhere and was taking notes.

Gord turned his head over to Northern and the white haired woman. "Told you."

The woman crossed her arms and harrumphed but didn't say anything else.

Fen tried to hide her confusion by taking another sip of coffee. She drains the mug and Kerry swoops over with the pot. She leans over and pours and Fen sees her up close. She's around the same age as Fen, taller, with her hair done up in complicated tresses. How does she manage that every day? Her uniform is highly tailored and flattering. "Do you need anything else Fen?" Kerry stands and smiles at Fen. Kerry seems to be checking her out as much as she was. Fen blushes very slightly at the attention. "N-No, thank you."

"If you need anything, just let me know." Fen could have sworn Kerry winked very quickly as she turned away. Tina seemed to have seen it too and shoots Kerry a withering glare, but just for a split second.

Fen couldn't stand it any longer. "I'm sorry, I'm still hungover, but what is going on?" She points to Meredith. "You're the Empress of Sol and so on, but you're just here with 4 women who work for you and nobody else? And you Gord, you're awfully composed for where you are. Also who is that?" She points at the white haired woman. "It feels like you all are working on a level that I'm not even approaching."

Gord's smile is gentle, paternal. "I'm sorry Fen, you have been kept in the dark a little." He looks over at Meredith. "What do you say Meredith? Cards on the table time? For Fen?"

Meredith lifts her head up again. "I don't know that idiom, but I get the meaning. Since she has the Nanites, I guess it wouldn't hurt." She winces. "But, later. I need to sleep some more. How about after dinner?"

The rest of the day was a blur. Fen's hangover subsided and she and Zhe didn't do much, mostly just lounge and rest with Meredith's honor guard. She didn't try and get more information out of Gord; she had a hunch he wasn't going to say anything. The curiosity burned inside her. Didn't Gord drug and dump her in a escape pod rather than meet the Empire, and here he was being friendly with the Empress herself!

"What do you think, Kerry?"

"Meredith told me not to tell you."

"What? Why?"

"She wanted to see your expression herself." Kerry chuckled. "Don't worry, it's nothing bad" She furrowed her brow a moment and shrugged. "At least, I think it's nothing bad."

Finally, Tina's pad buzzed. She looked down and smiled. "Okay, she's ready. Come on, she's doing it in the lounge."

They all got up. Fen trailed back. "Not like, a throne room or a conference room or something?"

Alia laughed out loud. "Meredith hates all that stuff. She did it back on Venus only when she couldn't get away with doing it any other way. Every time she sat on the throne she looked like her butt was going to fall asleep."

On the way to the lounge, Fen didn't know what to expect. When she got there, she couldn't quite explain what she was seeing.

The room was... comfortable. pillows, chairs, couches, different levels, it looked like it was made for lounging. Everything was set up in a semicircle almost like a theater. Sprawled across the largest pillow Fen had ever seen was Empress Meredith. She had a small table next to her - with water Fen noticed - and some fruit.

Lounging on a couch near the gigantic pillow was Gord, looking more relaxed than Fen had ever seen him. The woman with the silver hair - Chloe - was sitting next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder, looking much less sour than this morning. Northern was a respectful distance away lounging on a smaller pillow and looking... melancholy. Fen wondered why. She'd have to get Northern alone and ask her what's up.

Meredith gestured towards them. "Come on Fen, sit here. We have a lot to discuss."

Fen found a bean bag chair near Gord and Meredith and flopped into it. She heard everyone else find a seat and talk quietly. After a minute or two, everyone stoppped.

Gord inclined his head. "Thanks for coming Fen, I appreciate it. I'm sorry that we've kept you in the dark, but given your... payload, I figured it would be a good idea."

"Don't place all the blame on Gord either." Meredith said. "I also said to keep you in the dark, at least until we all had a chance to talk."

"Well, I'm here."

Meredith looked at Gord and Chloe. He nods. "First of all, I know Gord and co are AIs." She chuckled. "Even if we didn't get a chance to talk, I'd know Gord. He is possibly the most well known AI, full stop." She lifted her head and looked at Fen. "He never told you about himself did he?"

"Nah, I don't give my life's story to every stray I help out, Meredith."

She smiled. "Gord is the first AI."

Fen's mouth opened in surprise. She turned to Gord who demurred. "I am not. I'm just the closest to the first who is still alive."

"But wait, didn't the Empire try and purge the AIs?" Fen said

Meredith nods, sadly. "We did. There was a... misunderstanding when the Nanites first showed up."

Gord snorted. "You get a human who can give orders that cannot be disobeyed? Sounds a lot like slavery to me."

"But now you're friendly?"

This time, Chloe spoke. Her voice was high, musical, cold. "Individuals can be friends. Groups are what causes trouble."

Fen didn't quite understand, but she didn't say anything.

Gord continued. "Meredith offered a truce. Reparations as well as a blanket amnesty for AIs. She's also been quietly freeing any Imperial AIs that she's come across. You unlocking Dreams actually put a wrench in her plans."

"A truce? Reparations? In exchange for what?"

Meredith shrugged. "For a few things, Fen. I'm tired. I'm tired of being the bad guy. Tired of the AIs being apart. We should be working together, not at eachother's throats. Plus, we have a common enemy."

"We do?"

"We're going to defeat the Nanites." Gord said, firmly.

[bubybubsters]

Love of My Life (Azriel x Reader)

a/n - This is my first attempt at writing a fanfic so please be patient with me. Please leave a suggestions. I’m sorry, the story might go a little slow at first. I’m not great at writing. Do you want part two? :)

⚠️- I don’t think they’re any, but please inform me if there are.

if you want to be added to my taglist. Masterlist part 2 part 3

You finished dressing just as your father swaggered in. He had a smirk on his face that you knew meant pain, in places nobody could see, would be inflicted on you very soon.

You braced yourself. Today you would meet your sister- even if she didn’t know it- and the court she loved so much. Despite the horrible stories you’d been told about them, you trusted your sisters judgement, though you’d never met her.

“You’re looking good tonight y/n.” He punched you in the stomach, jabbed you in the ribs. “Excited?” You didn’t answer. Your father's hand wrapped around your throat. “I asked you a question, I expect an answer.”

“No father, just wanted to look my best for you.” The answer you’d given him since you were old enough to know what a horrible male he was.

He narrowed his eyes at you, but only squeezed once before removing his hand. You breathed out softly in relief. “If you ever need to address me, do not under any circumstance, call me ‘father’. Especially in front of your sorry excuse for a sister. I am now ‘Keir’ or ‘steward’ to you. Am I understood?”

“Yes Keir.” He nodded his approval and soon left after leaving you with instructions.

You couldn’t wait; this was the first time Keir had allowed you to attend when the High Lord came.

*****

Fifteen minutes later, you were shaking as you felt the High Lord of the Night Court approach his rightful throne.

But then you saw her, walking before the High Lord, beautiful, a bored, uninterested expression on her face. Your sister. You froze as she locked eyes with you and despite the stories you’d been told, you could see the love and freedom shining behind the eyes. Eyes that looked exactly like yours, like your mothers. Morrigan, the light that occasionally graced this hateful, dark place.

The two of you broke eye contact as she passed you, but your eyes quickly met again as she turned to face the two-faced bitchy crowd your father called his court. Her mask of calm broke, disbelief showing for all of a second before the unfeeling face returned. You frowned, about to try to enter her head with the daemati gifts nobody knew about but that were so similar to the High Lords.

Soon after, the general and spymaster of the Night Court entered. The shadowy male you assumed was the spymaster caught your eye. His blue gems shown, weapons covering his body.

They all turned away and sank into a graceful bow as Rhysand and Feyre took their thrones. The High Lord and Lady. You and everyone else in the court followed Morrigan's example and bowed.

“Rise. Go enjoy yourselves.”

You mingled with the others but when you glanced back, you saw Morrigan making her way towards you. You shook your head slightly and tapped twice against the solid walls protecting her mind.

She just blinked at you in astonishment but returned to the High Lords side as she opened a sliver in her mental shields.

Hello Morrigan. My name is y/n. Nice to meet you. Even in your mind, your voice sounded small and afraid.

You…you’re my sister. And to you, I am Mor.

Alright Mor. Indeed, I am your sister. May I show you some things? You wanted her to know what it was like in this awful place. How much worse things had gotten after her departure.

At Mor’s slight nod of approval, you moved to a shadowy area near a pillar. You sent her memories of your life and in return she let you look through hers. You learned the shadowy males name; Azriel. You repeated it in your head not realizing you were sending your thoughts to your sister. Azriel. Azriel. Azriel.

Don’t worry y/n, we’ll get you out of here and you can have those thoughts of Azriel as often as you wish.

You blinked, blushing.

Your connection was cut off as a sharp claw tapped on your shields. Rhysand, you could sense him. Hesitating, you let him in.

I’m going to send for you soon, come up and stick close to Azriel. We’ll take you back to our home if you wish. What would you like?

Thank you my lord, I would love to see your home.

Just Rhys please.

He left your mind and beckoned for you with a hand. You went up and bowed, low. He and Feyre inclined their heads and you were quickly introduced to their inner circle.

Mor looked like she wanted to hug you, but Rhys pointed you in the spymasters direction. You smiled at your high lord and locked eyes with Azriel.

You almost tripped as something in your chest uncoiled towards him. The mating bond stretched between the two of you. Azriel was your mate. He didn’t seem to notice the bond and when you reached him, he just made space for you to stand by his side. Your heart pounded.

But Mor, she saw something had happened, and you reached out to her when a sliver of her mind opened for you.

Azriel’s my mate. I don’t think he knows.

Before Mor could respond, Rhys called Keir over and said to him in a voice that let him know he would not take ‘no’ for an answer. “May I keep your daughter?”

“Of course my lord, you already have the Morrigan.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I am taking y/n for as long as I need a helping hand.”

Keir said nothing and Feyre dismissed him with a wave of her hand. She spoke inside your mind, slipping past your slightly open mental shields.

Mor told us what happened, everyone knows besides Azriel. I would suggest telling him but it is your choice, you will always have a choice here.

With that the High Lady retracted from your mind and your mental shields snapped up. You felt like you were dying, the male next to you was your mate, he didn’t know it, he seemed do be ignoring you but you could finally get out of this court and into the real world.

You weren’t sure you were ready for the real world. Mate. The word ricocheted through you, making the world you knew turn upside down and explode. Mate. Azriel was your mate.

part two anybody?

[hiem3]

minghao’s muse

18+

warning~ contains smut, swearing, fingering, eating out,

side note: hey..i know it’s been awhile tee hee i missed you guys too! i thought since it’s october i should feed ya’ll a little smt ;))

“come on y/n! just think about it, if you’re his model then your tuition for college will be paid!” your best friend said frailly her arms around like some maniac on school’s campus. “nuh uh not happening hiem not happening”

you’ve had many jobs like working at mcdonald’s, being a cat sitter, retail, stairbucks etc. basically any job you can imagine just to pay for your college tuition.

(an hour later)

“okay but hear me out, i know it’s nude and you barely kno-“ you quickly shut hiem’s mouth with your hand. “can you not! we’re in a library” you say in a low tone voice so others can’t hear you. you let go “fine. but don’t blame me if you’re in student dept.” hiem says and a few min after she tries casually writing his phone number on your hand thinking you wouldn’t notice.

after the study session with your friend you’re back at your dorm looking on indeed to find yourself a job. “flight attendant? no…a&w? hmm minimum wage!? hell no” you were frustrated so frustrated that you really started to think that calling that art guy wasn’t a bad idea. okay maybe you know a bit about him but they’re mainly rumours. you heard from a girl who heard from a girl that he’s got girlfriends all over the country and he’s a big cheater. sigh i can’t believe i’m doing this you thought to yourself. “hello?” the guy picked up asking in a low monotone voice. you get flustered and start lowkey panicking. “h-hey it’s y/n? my friend hiem said that you needed a..” “a nude model ?” he said nonchalant. you choke up “y-yah! yeah a nude model” you can hear him trying to hold back his laughter. “i’m gonna send you my address come meet me there at..10:00?” “yeah i’ll see u then!”

10:00 pm

“come in y/n i was just setting up some props”. you slowly go inside his loft in awe. you see the back drop and a marble chair in front of a large canvas. “you can change inside the washroom to your left” minghao said with a tiny smile. you can feel your heart racing, i mean minhao is totally your type. tall, artsy, kind of mysterious, and stylish, after you undress you walk out trying to cover your body. “hey i want you to know that if you’re uncomfortable we can pause or you can walk out the door, it’s okay” he said. you nod your head “yeah it’s fine let’s just get this over with”.

he told you to spread your legs and touch yourself while he draws. “m-minghao i-i” you say panting inserting your fingers into your cunt and massaging your boobs. “few min love, i just gotta sketch this out” he smiles. usually when you finger yourself you don’t feel nothing but this time you feel a rush of excitement. is it because he’s drawing you while you finger yourself trying to imagine his hands all over you? moaning into your ears? or is it because he’s staring at you like he’s about to devour you. you arch your back and roll back your eyes “just like that love, wow you look so fucking beautiful” he said sketching out your orgasm. he stops and goes over you cupping your cheeks “however i don’t remember telling you to cum love” he said smiling. next thing you know he’s eating you out, his nose against ur cunt. he’s making laps on your clit while he fingers you. just his fingers are enough for you to make you cum. “oh yeah? you like that hm~” he said going deeper hitting your g-spot. you can see his glasses fog up, his hair messed up and his hard cock rubbing against his denim jeans. “p-please minghao i need you” you say moaning while you grip his hair. “say it” “i-i need your cock!” he hovers over you and lifts you up against a wall. putting one of your legs over his shoulder and unzips his jeans revealing his hard throbbing shaft. he inserts it and lets out a tiny moan. he pushes your waist into him bottoming you out. you feel a rush of pleasure as he pounds you endlessly. you don’t know how many hours it has passed. he’s grabbing your waist, slapping your ass while he hits you from the back, and leaning over telling you “you’re such a good girl for me hm?” “oh yeah you like that don’t you?”. your eyes roll back while your back arches. “i-i’m gonna cum minhao!” you say gripping on minhao’s back. “let it out” he coos giving you a final thrust. your body turns into jello eyes to exhaustion. “oh, u thought we were done?”minghao says giving you a little peck on your cheek before lifting you up again.

[pascaloverx]

Hit The Road

Chapter Fourteen (FINAL)

previous chapter epilogue (+18)

Summary: You are a hunter of supernatural beings who is forced to experience a new reality: being a vampire. The only thing stronger than your thirst for blood is your thirst for revenge.

Author's note: the characters mentioned here were created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec, based on the book series of the same name by author L. J. Smith. They don't belong to me. That said, this fanfic will be short. This fanfic may address scenes of violence, inappropriate language and adult content. Minors should not interact with this story. Also some information here is not in the order of the series or the same way it happened in the tv series.

Your plan didn't work out. Damn it! Stefan broke down the door amid your screams of pain and grabbed you, throwing you to the ground. Strangely, him throwing you to the ground might have hurt more than being burned in the sun. You don't remember much after that. You can imagine the Salvatores being furious because you tried to end your vampire life. You're almost certain that you're tied to a chair. You try to move your hands and feet but can't. Your eyes slowly open, revealing Damon's room, and then you realize that you are indeed trapped. Damon comes out of the bathroom half-naked, with only a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair wet. You look at him, furious. But you notice that even though you're angry, you don't want to kill him.

"What did you do to me, Salvatore?" You almost shout as you watch him dry his hair with another towel. He's ignoring you, undoubtedly. He takes off the towel from his waist, revealing his naked body, and then slowly starts to put on some clothes.

"You know, you've always been one of the smartest people I know. But trying to kill yourself while a group of people who care about you is trying to find a solution to your problem was the stupidest thing I've ever seen." Damon's tone of voice is sharp; he seems genuinely bothered by the direction this story would have taken if Stefan hadn't stopped you.

"Fuck off, darling, I wanted to die. Not because the idea of a slow and painful death makes me happy, but because dying would prevent me from hurting you." You respond rudely, still trying to get out of the chair where you're tied up. Damon smiles, watching you struggle to untie yourself.

"You won't get out of there without my help, my love. That's because humans hardly ever manage to get out of places on their own. And yes, I called you human. In fact, while you were trying to kill yourself, I was able to track down your ex-best friend Dimitri. He had a cure for vampirism with him. And let's say he was happy to hand it over to save you." Damon's tone becomes almost too dark as he speaks the last part. He definitely killed Dimitri. I can't say it terrifies me, but I think Dimitri sought Damon's wrath.

"You turned me human and killed Dimitri? Wow, it's shocking the amount of things you can do." You speak, facing Damon, almost as a challenge, even though you know you should be grateful for him stopping you from dying or killing other vampires.

"I wouldn't have killed your hunter friend if he hadn't refused to free you from that damn spell. One thing led to another. But at the end of the day, everyone got what they deserved." Damon speaks as he approaches you. He crouches down on the floor, facing you. His blue eyes seem darker, and his expression looks tired.

"We're back to square one, aren't we? You're a cruel vampire, and I'm a human. What now? I age while you remain immortal, watching me slowly die in front of you? Then when all this is over, you go back to Elena and live a vampire life with her?" As you speak, you feel like you're venting to Damon but at the same time complaining.

"We both have at least a few more years before you start worrying about age and dying. I gave you back your human life so you could enjoy it a little longer. But when you want immortality back, just like your vampire boyfriends." Damon unties you, touching your hand lightly to your cheek, wiping away the tears you were shedding without even noticing.

"Did you hear about my idea for everyone to date each other at the same time? Seems like almost dying left my mind clear." You speak, smiling softly, trying not to appear confused by the changes in your life.

"I want you to know that I made a choice too. I chose to stand by the idiotic woman who married me in a cabin because neither of us knew what we wanted." Damon kissed both of your hands gently, then gave you a peck on the lips.

"What a lovely way to make me feel bad. But I won't backtrack, I love you and your brother. Individually but significantly." You pull Damon's face closer to yours, giving him a longer kiss.

"I have to go get more blood bags from the hospital. I think you have a visitor speaking of that, see you later." Damon kisses your cheek and leaves the room almost immediately. You get up from the chair and glance around Damon's room.

"Stefan, I'm no longer a vampire, but I know you're there." You say as you lean against Damon's bed, relaxing your sore back. Being human is too painful.

"I thought it would be weird to come here, to my brother's room, to see you." Stefan says, entering the room with a smile on his face. 

"It's not strange. I guess now we all agree that we're okay with the fact that I..." You almost finish the sentence but are interrupted by a strong and sincere hug from Stefan, who crouched down in front of you.

"I hate you, you know?" Stefan says, kissing your cheek, as if he wanted to savor every detail of you. You then give him a gentle kiss on the forehead and sigh.

"Thank you for saving my life. But next time you knock me down, I'm gonna punch you." You say as you hug him gently, running your fingers through his hair. And so your life as a vampire took a pause so that your life as a human could return, alongside the Salvatore brothers. Damon made a deal with you that when you're ready to be a vampire again, he'll turn you. Obviously, Stefan thinks you're better off as a human. For now, you continue in this romantic confusion where you date Damon sometimes, Stefan other times, taking life one day at a time.

The End...

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

Ivy | chapter fourteenth

listen to: Right Where You Left Me- Taylor Swift (playlist here)

warning: infidelity. violence. blood. for this chapter is mostly grief.

word count: 2.1k

series masterlist + read the next chapter early on my ko-fii!!

The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows over your batter body. The blood on your hands had dried by now, as well as the tears in your eyes as you drove through the narrow grey road. With no helmet on, you finally feel like you can breathe as your mind plays over and over again a collection of the last twenty-four hours. 

Rooster’s bloody lip, Jake’s blood on his face. The way they looked at you and everyone looked at you as you exited the base with blood dripping from your body. How you’d brushed off Jake as he tried to talk to you after the exercise, how you’d undressed willingly to Bradley, how you didn’t tell him you were his. Jake’s face when Bradley told him you’d slept together, Bradley’s face as Jake told him you’d been together for five months. 

You barely realize you need to stop before you go farther than you intend to. You hear the soft rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. Summer was slowly slipping away; it ended for you when Jake and you had broken things off, though. Your heart weighs heavy as you walk on the grass; a part of you wants to keep pulling away from this. 

You hadn’t been there in a while. 

You’d visited only once since you’d come back. 

“Hey, Dad,” you start softly, your voice quivering. Kneeling, you brush away the fallen leaves, clearing a space to sit beside the cold stone. You trace your fingers over the engraved name, the memories of him flooding back. 

Thomas ‘Iceman’ Kazansky 

1959-2022

You wonder what you can say; your heart feels so heavy as you watch the tombstone. A constant ache that you had never indeed addressed. 

“I really wish you were here right now,” Tears well up in your eyes as you continue. “I don’t know what I’m doing, and I feel like I’m messing everything up,” 

You pause for a moment, watching his name expectantly. I wish you could feel him, hoping he could send you a sign. You need him here, you’ve fucked up everything, and now you’re entirely alone. You’re alone because he left you so, so soon. He isn’t there. He will never be able to make it right. You broke everything, and there’s no way to make it right. 

Suddenly, grief overwhelms you. Your shoulders shake with the weight of your emotions, and your tears fall freely, splashing onto the grass beneath you. 

“I don’t know what to do, Dad,” you admit through your sobs. “I’m angry at myself for letting it get this bad, I’m angry at you for never allowing me to look beyond what you wanted, I’m angry for,” you stop yourself. It is useless to blame anyone but yourself; it is your fault. Silence lingers for a second. “I should’ve been happy with just Rooster, right?”

You stare at the stone as you bite your inner cheek. 

“Right?” you whisper, your voice barely audible. Deep down, you know it can’t be the truth; you’re lying to yourself and him. It can’t be true because you know that being as happy as you were with Jake meant that it wasn’t a mistake. 

“I don’t know how to make it better, and now we will go to a death trap together, and,” you take a sigh, attempting to calm down the way your chest aches. “If I choose one, I lose the other,”

Defeated, you sit next to the stone, your back to one of the sides while you try to stop crying. The lump in your throat doesn’t surrender until a while has gone by. The memories of Ice flood back, a bittersweet montage of all the lessons he taught you, the compilation of them in your mind. To find clarity, you go back to those moments. You go back to what you learned, hoping to find an answer. 

Tears well up in your eyes as you recall Ice’s voice. A lesson you learned when you started to fly with him, you can feel him. In one of those times, he let you take control of the flight when you were barely a teenager, one of those airplanes he’d gotten just to teach his kids, which mostly ended up being just you. 

“Don’t let anything get in between you’re flying,” he’d told you during that sunset after you’d made a wrong turn. “Nothing gets between you and this plane. No fear, no tears, no one, and nothing. You and your wingman have to get home safe before and above anything,” 

When you open your eyes, leaning drowsily back against the stone even further. You can finally breathe as you make your decision. You want it to stop; you want to put a pause on your life, on the decision, and you are hurting—they're hurting. You want to save their lives and know you’ll put them in more danger if you don’t stop.  

“Dad,” you murmur as you turn to the rock, secretly hoping to see him beside you. “I wish you were here,”

You can feel him; you can imagine him nodding in understanding; you wipe away the few tears in your cheeks before standing from the grave. 

You don’t arrive at your house until the twilight of the day casts a warm, golden glow that bathes your body in a soft, ethereal light. That is how Jake’s eyes fall on you; you seem so small. You have looked like that for Jake since this morning. The first time Jake had seen you like that was after you’d told him about kissing Rooster, then when he’d broken up with you. Before, it wasn’t feasible for Jake to see you in another light that wasn’t strong and decided, confident in yourself. 

You curated yourself so well in front of everyone before, he’d come to realize. No one is close enough ever to see the cracks. He wondered as your eyes fell on him if it was indeed a privilege to see you this torn apart. It didn’t feel like it, not when he could see your swollen nose and the dried blood on your body, eyes bloodshot from crying so much; he knew it well. It felt like even less when your eyes darted to the other side of the door, where Bradley was standing. 

They’d managed to get themselves to the nursery before they continued to tear themselves apart. Still, while Bradley was getting the stitches to his busted lip and Jake was getting checked to see if his nose was not effectively broken, they were biting each other’s heads off with insults and allegations. 

It wasn’t Jake’s proudest moment; the regret of letting you go alone in such a state was also eating him alive. 

At least until now, you don’t seem as broken anymore. 

Bradley notices it first, though. Perhaps because he has known you since he could remember, maybe it is because he also knew his uncle Ice like the back of his hands, he is not quite sure. But he is confident that, for him, it is pretty obvious that you’ve made a decision. 

You know he’s aware of it too, the way the corner of his eyes wrinkles, even with all the bruising, you can see it too. His face was etched with concern and anticipation, then something worse, fear. Jake’s anxiety doesn’t scale up until you speak. 

“Will you come inside?” 

The words come from you reasonably soft, but they pick it up immediately. The determination is unwavering. You are resolved. Neither Jake nor Bradley, who’d been pushing for an answer in the morning, were ready for you to have decided it that fast. The tension in the air is palpable as you open the doorstep into the room. The sun’s dying rays paint long shadows on the floor. 

Jake and Bradley suddenly are apprehensive about entering the place. Holding out at the other side of the threshold as you take off your shoes and look for clothes, you cringe as you watch your jacket and shoes from the day before on the misarranged couch. Quickly, you rearrange everything as well as you can while waiting for them to come in. You hope Jake doesn’t notice, but he does. 

He can’t stop following you with his gaze. 

“Aren’t you going to come in?” You ask them without looking, effectively avoiding Jake’s unwavering gaze. 

Bradley’s frustration is suddenly palpable as he watches how nonchalant you’ve turned after all this. “You’ve chosen,” he says as he enters the room. 

It is strange how much can change in 24 hours. Yesterday, barely at the same time, he thought he was getting you back. Now, nothing can be farther from the truth. 

“I have,”

Jake clenches his jaw as he expectantly waits for you to say Bradley’s name. He wouldn’t be surprised. He knows he was never the good guy; he knows he has played dirty before, trying to force you to decide. He isn’t the good guy you would’ve wanted. For a second, he lets himself think that he might be able to be happy for you and him. 

“I’m not choosing either of you,”

“You’re joking, right?”

“I’m not,” you state firmly. Bradley’s frustration is evident, but you press on, your gaze steady as you continue. “I’ve thought about this long and hard, and I refuse to let my emotions control my decisions. It’s not fair to any of us, and it’s time to put an end to this,”

Bradley’s voice takes on a skeptical tone. “How are you putting an end if you are not making a choice?” he scoffs. 

Your eyes dart to him, the tan skin and his caramel hair. You know him so well that you can trace the wrinkles in his forehead by memory now that he’s frowning. It seems unfair to him; how could it not? He had you this morning, in a bed, in his arms. An illusion. 

“We are going to get ourselves killed if we continue down this path,” you answer back firmly, your chest heavy as you watch Jake and then Bradley. “Nothing is more important than trusting each other, and we have less than a month to do so.”

Bradley persists, his frustration simmering. “You’re using the mission as—”

“—an excuse,” Jake’s voice suddenly interjects firmly. You snap your head towards him as you watch him softly. There’s nothing in those sea-foam eyes that can tell you what he’s thinking. 

You counter, “It isn’t an excuse. I’m doing what’s best for the sake of your well-being, for our well-being, for the team. I am not choosing either, and that’s my decision.”

Bradley’s brows furrow. “You’ll have to pick a wingman.”

You bite your inner cheek as you lean against the marble table where Jake and you’d spend so many nights together. Him cooking, you reading. Conversations always ran long. If it wasn’t conversations that ran long, it was kisses. 

“Maverick’s going to be my wingman,” you state softly, without looking at them, avoiding their reaction. 

“What?” they bark at the same time. The disbelief is palpable.

“I’ve called him. You are better off without me, and you’ve done this exercise with each other. Neither Cain nor Simpson want to see me interacting with either of you in the sky anyway,” you try to sound as reasonable as you can, but there’s no hiding that you’d also convinced Maverick of the choice. 

Bradley persists, “But we’ve been—”

“The decision was taken,” you interrupt firmly. “The mission is first, and I’m taking my emotions out of the equation, and that’s it,”

Bradley’s mouth opens for a moment and then closes. He stares at you wide-eyed, with utter shock at your words. There wasn’t a day where he wouldn’t think to fly without you before, not being your wingman but putting him together with Jake; even after everything, it feels too much like a betrayal. 

“You’re running away from them,” Jake speaks suddenly. 

Your eyes dart to him. There’s a feeling of betrayal in his words. It wasn’t a lie. Part of you knew it was the wisest decision, but it was a decision where you would’ve been let off as quickly as you could, without hurting the other one, without letting the other one go on a mission with a broken heart. You were washing your hands from this mess. 

“I’m not,” you retort. Your heart was racing, your voice suddenly turning strange and hoarse. 

The effect those sea foam eyes have on you is not fair. You feel naked now under them. You twisted yourself in so many ways for them, for them to keep looking at you like they used to. 

“And after the mission?” Bradley’s voice breaks whatever thoughts you had on Jake. 

You look down. Not wanting to answer because you wished that there wasn’t a timeline, that this could be suspended in the air, your eternal wish. 

Jake’s eyes linger with yours; he knows it already.

“She’ll have to choose after the mission,” he says softly. Already too aware of what was coming. 

“You’ll have to choose then after the mission,” Bradley agrees, lingering heat from the previous events from the night before still simmering in his chest, all that anger turning into harsher words. 

“If we don’t die first,” Jake replies. It’s barely a whisper, but all of you get it. 

If you come back. If all of you come back. That word always taunting you, now you couldn’t look at either of you anymore. 

“Let’s worry about not dying first. I want to shower now. Can you please go?” you say, avoiding their gaze. 

Jake’s the first to leave; you know his steps by now. You don’t need to see him; he doesn’t need to see you to know you’re both defeated. Bradley, though, lingers in the sun for a moment. He wants to say it almost involuntarily, always waiting for more information, always expecting you to confide in him. 

Now, you seem as cold as Ice was. 

“You know you’re making a choice here, right?” Bradley insists as he decides to leave; you raise your head to watch him. “Not choosing is a choice. Choices have consequences too, Brat.”

an: Honestly I am so thankful to anyone who is still reading this. I am so excited for the next few chapters we are only missing five and I really want to end this by the end of this month. thank you all for still keeping up with this I know I've been flaky and I am sorry! everything hasn't really been easy but your comments light up my days.

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[angstigone]

 je t'aime, je t'attends

(A/N): how many times did you listen to «ma meilleure ennemie»?

me, starts to cry again

(but aside the jokes, I wrote this a whole lot of of months ago and then forgot because I thought it sucked but wanted to post it because the whole episode seven awakened something in me) (it's called delusion)

WARNINGS: what if au, mention of devil and violence and gore, mention of deadly car incidents.

Aki startled awake, at the feeling of a hand seeping through his brain that felt far too real.

He immediately made quick work of trying to control his breathing, sadly used to such a thing as nightmares weren’t an uncommon occurrence, especially in his line of work.

What wasn’t common at all was the slight rustling among his sheets.

Had Meowy found its way in his bed again? 

Or was it any of the other two troublemakers?

He tended to sleep alone, aside from the exceptions mentioned above. 

Still, there was something different in the air, the smell of it more specifically; it did smell somehow of somebody else, a different detergent to the slightly stale feeling of the unaired room.

He didn’t have to wait long though for the feeling of unease and edge to intensify as his hand moved into a defensive stance, ready to come at whatever creeped out of his own bed late at night.

«Babe».

He recognized that voice immediately, although there’s a dissonance to the word you used to referwith him. 

You are a fellow member of Division Four, somebody who hadn’t addressed Aki as anything but ‘sir’. 

He thought for a moment that he might have heard you wrongly, especially with the amount of time he usually spent daydreaming about you. 

Still, there was another question in his brain: what were young doing in his bed?

«… had a nightmare, again?».

Your voice was slightly edged with drowsiness and a quick look at his alarm - it’s his alarm so he was indeed in his apartment - revealed that it was past midnight.

What were you doing in his bed at 3 a.m. in the morning?

«Aki?».

«What… what are you doing here?» he muttered breathily as he finally turned to face you.

You looked homely in your attire with your hair slightly smashed and the imprint of the pillow wrinkled into your skin, lightly lighted by the moon outside.

It was you, even through the barely filtered light, Aki felt like he might have as well recognized you everywhere he went and there was no doubt that it was you.

You didn’t react badly at his question, although it was rude, you simply adjusted yourself so that you could exit the cocoon of blankets all around you.

Aki had been sure that you’d be a blanket thief since he had first seen you cuddle up to poor Kobeni when they had fought the Eternity Devil.

In the dream, he had been fighting another devil but he couldn’t remember the name and the more he put effort into it, the less he could visualize…

«It must have been a pretty awful nightmare if you are so confused as to not recognize your own partner in bed with you».

Your tone was tentative although a bit teasing as you came closer to him and although all of Aki’s instincts were sounding the alarm - not only he didn’t understand what was going on, but the person he had been aching to be with was about to touch him -  he relaxed as you gently pulled back his hair, beaming in the warmth of your body till it hit him.

«Partner?!».

Now finally concern settled into you as if you were finally taking Aki’s confusion as serious.

«Yes, Aki» you answered with a slight huff «… of three years also».

The same three years in which you had been colleagues… you had actually been lovers?

«I.. I…» he couldn’t think straight and made a bad attempt at it, he almost tripped from the bed, rushing for the bathroom - and he was happy to see that hadn’t changed its placement - and turning to you with one last look «… need to use the … excuse me».

Once inside, he locked himself as he heard you answer him ‘to take as much as he wanted’ and ‘that you’d be ready to talk with him whenever he wanted’, and at that he crumpled against the door like a leaf in autumn. 

What was going on?

Was this another dream? 

And yet, the sensation of your touch made him feel like this was the reality. 

A reality when you were together? 

You barely spoke and although Aki had an inkling that you admired him, it wasn’t… like that between the two of you. 

No matter how much he wanted it and no matter the ‘what if’s or …

This had to be a prank.

And yet as his eyes went down to his hands, after he switched on the light to find the sink and splash a bit of water on his face, he noticed that they were… smoother. 

He didn’t have a single of the scars that he got upon feeding the Fox Devil his skin. 

His face also looked much more relaxed and as he went up to raise his pajama, he noticed that he didn’t have the most recent of his scars, the one against the Katana Man.

What the fuck?

Was it possible that he had dreamt up the reality with the devils? 

And that you were possibly his own girlfriend, trying to comfort him from a nightmare. 

An occasion that happened often enough that you seemed to know how to handle it?

It’d… it’d be a dream.

His own reality was a dream.

He splashed water on himself, still unsure of what to believe and especially insecure of how to approach you, as he didn’t remember anything of your relationship. 

This couldn’t be a prank, though, as you had always been too sweet for that, always chastising them when they’d make fun of poor Kobeni.

You were good and Aki was your boyfriend. 

And he had just woken up from a nightmare.

Even if this was some strange dream that felt too real, Aki thought of taking full advantage of it as he decided to finally face you and he found you slightly hunched over on the edge of the bed, with your face focused on the door to the bathroom. 

Although you hid it quickly, your concern for him was immediate and Aki didn’t want to make you worry.

«Sorry» he hummed as he came to you and although it felt awkward to hug you, he still tried, startled when you returned it without a single hesitation, latching your arms around his neck and bringing him to your level «The dream… it was… tough».

«Was it… was it about the incident?» he should have known better, but he still reached out to ask.

«What… what incident?».

Your eyes brightened with worry but still you answered.

«The one… the one in which your family died, Aki» although there was no way to sweeten the pill, you still spoke gently and softly «I thought that as the anniversary came close to it… well, it might be causing you some stress…».

«I… yes, sorry I… am still shaken» he used it as an excuse «… no, it wasn’t about that… it was more… fantastic… something about devils and devil hunters…».

«I told you not to watch that movie with Power!» you promptly exclaimed as finally glee took over your pretty face «You act all tough, Hayakawa, and yet a few gory scenes get you!».

He indulged in your genuineness as you separated from the hug and he sat beside you, his hand gently brushing against your own, not close enough to be holding it but simply enjoying the sensation of your pinkies touching. 

Then it hit him, you had mentioned Power.

Power existed in this universe.

And she wasn’t a fiend, if you had thought him dreaming about devil and hunters was a movie fantasy.

«Yeah, I… I mean… I thought I’d have better guts, you know?».

«Better than Power, the little girl who forced me to accompany her to see “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre”?».

Aki slowly tried to note down every information as he also tried to have his brain function while you were touching him. 

Which proved to be more difficult than he had originally thought.

«… you wouldn’t believe that somebody at fifteen..».

«Power is fifteen?» again, he should have known better to shut up as immediately your concern showed up again in your face and the screws in your head worked miles per hour as you regarded him positively concerned «… I mean shit… she’s already fifteen!».

You didn’t lower and neither untighten your steely gaze on him but somehow your smile became gentler.

«Yeah, you’d never guess how old she and Denji have already grown, considering that we have been fostering them only for a few years!».

‘Fostering’.

You had been fostering Denji and Power?

 Of course, his mind - whether this reality or the dream were real - would have those two troublemakers in it, alongside with you.

«… not going to lie, I am still scared shitless of doing anything wrong with them, but you know what?».

«What?» your eyes prompted him to speak more and he had to close his hand by his side so that it wouldn’t gently raise your face to his eye level.

«I am glad I got to do it with you» and as if a cat, you went to gently nuzzle Aki’s neck affectionately as your hand went to gently grip his waist so tenderly. 

And in all truth, Aki couldn’t care less what was going on as he, instead, felt himself break against you. 

A normal life, that’s what he seemed to have.

One where he was able to hug you as you joked about your foster children’s weird habits in bed.

“If this is a dream, I want to stay here” he pleaded with whoever had sent him here “... please let me stay here”.

«Want to try to sleep?» you asked, probably noticing that Aki was slumped against you «… we can discuss your dream again in the morning».

He nodded, as he gently went back to bed, not realizing that he had brought you with him, till he felt the heat of your body against him; albeit he still felt a slight sheen of embarrassment, he thought that he’d take full advantage of this, being selfish for a tiny bit of time. 

So, he clutched you gently, cradling you in your arms as if you were a precious thing and after a moment of hesitation you settled onto his chest. 

How could Aki not feel better when you held him so gently and loved him so deeply?

Even if it was just a dream, he got the best sleep ever.

—

In the morning, the left side of his bed was empty and Aki was sure that the previous night had just been an unusual and intense dream, although the tiny edge of your perfume hung onto his sheets. 

Still, it might be a slight suggestion as he got off his bed and quickly moved into his routine, realizing that there was a slight variation when he smelled the smell of coffee brewed.

Neither Power nor Denji enjoyed coffee and he doubted they had discovered a newfound passion for it overnight. 

And he didn’t trust them with anything that was flammable.

As he moved on the kitchen, he was immediately dumbfounded to find you there. 

Tiny pajama shorts and an oversized shirt, in such an homely attire that Aki’s logical mind ruled out that you had somehow come for a breakfast together as you’d sometimes do, especially since Denji and Power insisted and you were always such a pushover.

«Slept well?» you caught him in your side-eye as you were getting some pancakes ready. 

Coffee was already poured in a cup while he saw that your own tea was stemming beside it. 

It all seemed so normal and a scene of everyday life that Aki thought for a moment that this was normal. 

Still, maybe it was normal! 

Maybe it was true, he had just had a terrible nightmare and it was shaking him to the core. 

After all, he didn’t have any of the scars that came with devil hunting and you didn’t seem like lying to him.

«… yes» still, he couldn’t deny a slight awkwardness around you, especially as he felt like you were both his favorite person and a stranger «… what… what about you?».

«Slept like a baby» you shot back as you flipped the last of the pancakes before pushing them on a plate. 

A quick look at the clock revealed to Aki that it was way past his usual wake up time in the morning, a thought that was startling as he couldn’t help but look around himself to see where his uniform was and …

 «… I think it’s because you were holding me extra-tight, last night».

The openness of the situation had Aki flustered as you gently went to retrieve his coffee mug and brought it to him, not before lightly rubbing against his side, forcing your heated nose against his cold neck and making him shiver. 

This was all the intimacy that he needed as he felt himself crumble at more touch than he had ever gotten.

And especially touches from the person that he had been aching to hold.

Aki didn’t entertain any romantic ideas anymore but since you had joined his squad, his eyes followed you attentively, both as they were fascinated with you and also because he worried. 

You weren’t made to be a devil hunter: you were too soft and albeit capable. You lacked the distinct craziness that compelled devil hunters, but maybe that’s why Aki was so into you.

It unnerved him that he felt this way with you, but at the same time he was unable to simply let you go.

And here you were in his kitchen, side-hugging him after you cooked him breakfast.

Only then it hit Aki: in his perfect world, he should be the one cooking you breakfast and although it felt silly, he couldn’t help but fluster and blurt out.

«You shouldn’t have» although your caring and nurturing nature was what had gotten him curious «… I mean… breakfast and…».

«You were obviously tired last night» you shushed him quickly, moving lightly away as his arm shot forward to hold you back, making you giggle in the heavenly way he had always wished to «… hey! Aren’t you clingy today?».

«I am not» made for not such a compelling argument when he gently grabbed onto her upper waist - even if you were together - it felt... disrespectful to actively initiate physical touch, although he had wanted this for the longest.

«Oh, you are!» your joyous exclamation made him smirk lightly, although it was clearly teasing against him «… good thing then today we are both off, isn’t it? And with a house for all of ourselves».

The innuendo went over Aki’s head but not the way you gently grabbed the collar of his pajama shirt to bring him closer, till your lips connected.

As cheesy as it sounded kissing you felt like a normal occurrence, like an everyday activity and yet, it didn’t lose its own fascination, instead if anything it acquired a further importance because of that: I get to kiss you every day and it’s all I could want.

You tasted like pancakes - you must have stolen a few - and of the minty toothpaste he used. 

Your hair - as he gently threaded his fingers through them - were still stuck into the uncomfortable bedhead of the previous night and with just a slight pull, your mouth opened in a silent wince, soothed by the way Aki’s tongue licked your upper lip tenderly. 

He hadn’t too much experience but it felt natural to do so, as if he knew that you enjoyed it.

You separated slowly and Aki lightly flustered at the line of saliva that connected you. He wanted to kiss you, again and your eyes invited him to do so as well, but he couldn’t. 

He felt… still a bit strange and you caught onto that.

«I can’t believe that the great Aki Hayakawa gets so down for a silly little nightmare» you said gently, ducking to kiss his cheek and promptly moving him towards the table by his hand «… will you be a downer the whole day?».

“Excuse me for suddenly remembering a lifetime that isn’t my own while I struggle to come to terms with everything that I got although I didn’t deserve it” Aki wanted to say, but instead he sat down beside you and gently maintained your hand on his own, he smiled back.

«No, no. I don’t think so».

You smiled, gently and then he felt it: a flare of pain throughout his head, the same one that had forced him awake the previous night.

«Aki?!» your voice sounded concerned but also distant and he worried for the worst, especially as the closest description to what was happening was that reality was crumbling all around him as each piece of his kitchen came to slowly break apart, till he was left in emptiness. 

Without you, again.

He blinked his eyes a few times before his senses returned to him and found none other than Denji, slapping his face with a bit too much strength and stopping promptly the moment that he noticed Aki’s opened eyes.

«The bastard is alive!» he screeched promptly to a croaking Power, although Aki’s eyes immediately set upon you; you were held back by the Violence fiend, as your face was tear-stricken and your eyes were set onto him as if you hadn’t meant to lose him out of your sight for a single moment «That fucking devil got you good, topnkot».

Yeah, this seemed more like his reality, as he recalled each and every day and especially today: you had been sent on a mission of a devil that lured humans into its lair and never let them go. When you had walked inside, Aki had moved forward as he had the Future Devil and could more easily foresee what were the plans of the mysterious devil, just to be bombarded by his power.

He had been projected into a separate reality of sorts, till the devil - that now laid next to a disgruntled Angel and an horrified Kobeni - had been defeated.

«Are you alright?» Angel Devil’s monotone voice shook Aki out of his mind, especially as his gaze moved away to where you were looking at him, suddenly as he remembered ‘the dream’, it felt far too personal. 

He knew that you tasted like pancakes and minty toothpaste and that you winced when your hair was pulled. 

He knew how your waist fit against his arms.

He didn’t think that he’d ever be able to look at you in the same way.

«Yeah, I am alright» he answered, as he got up from the ground with Denji’s hand extended in front of him promptly ignored, in favor of digging his nails in the ground. 

The pain felt brilliant to wash away the happy-go-lucky picture in his mind.

It was useless to wish upon what could have been, wasn’t it?

[extrovedteen]

Just a quick one— inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s ‘It’s a bad idea, right?’ Single 🤍

___________

“Hey” you answer your phone, not even reading the caller ID beforehand and are slightly slurring your words.

“Y/N?” You’re shocked at the voice and have to check the Caller ID, which confirms that it is indeed Kit Connor aka your ex boyfriend.

You guys had decided to end things because he was always off filming, and it felt like he didn’t have time for you anymore, especially because he had become such a desired actor and it made you uncomfortable with all of the girls that were interested in him, you were scared of getting hurt.

“Kit?” You asked, confused as to why he was calling you, the music loud and you are unsure that he can even hear you.

“Where are you? It’s loud.” He laughs and you can tell that he’s smiling his golden retriever smile from ear to ear. “I miss you, I just got home” he lulls into your ear with his British accent your heart skipping another beat.

He has this effect on you where no matter what he’s done, he can always pull you back in. “I haven’t heard from you in a couple of months… but I’m out right now, and I’m all fucked up.” You admit to him.

“Who is it?” Your best friend asks, trying to listen into the phone call.

“I’ll send you my address, I’m all alone.” He says into the phone, as if he can’t hear you. His voice definitely has some undertone and you know exactly what he wants.

“I’m not com—“ but before you can finish your sentence he sends you his address and hangs up. You can’t help being excited that he’s home and wants to see you. Your best friends voice breaks you out of it.

“Babe, he really broke your heart last time.” Your best friend says, reading the message with you. But your brain is in ‘la, la’ mode as you think to yourself ‘Seein’ you tonight, is a bad idea right?’ But you give yourself too many excuses ‘he’s my ex but two people can reconnect…’

“We’re just friends…” You switch your phone off and look at your friends. “Another shot? And I’m going to go home.” You tell them and your best friend looks right through you but knows she can’t do anything so she just follows you to the bar and you take another shot of tequila and chase it down with salt and lemon.

“Bye, babes.” You tell her and you stumble through the exit and holler a taxi, feeling the cold night air on your skin, inevitably giving them the address Kit had just sent you.

‘On my way’ you reply to him before clicking on his account and scrolling through the photos of him, you’re sure you’ve seen much hotter men but you can’t really remember when.

The taxi eventually pulls up to his place and you got up to the second floor, opening the door and seeing him standing there with that smile that always pulls you in. “Hi” he says, making you gulp “Hi-“ you say back before his lips are against yours and his closing the door behind you.

You both stumble your way to his bed, kissing passionately on your way there and he’s so hot that your brain goes “Ah” and you cannot hear your thoughts.

“I only see you as a friend” you say, knowing it’s the biggest lie you’ve ever said.

“Keep telling yourself that, darling.” He mumbles into your ear before kissing your neck and stripping you of your clothes.