#and the anger?? the fact your body is betraying you like that makes you furious

[oh-surprise-its-me]

As someone who has a fucked knee I can tell you the urge to sit on your bathroom floor and cry about it never really fades.

I think Roy would push through most of it but at night when everything is quiet he lays in bed on his back silently crying because Christ his knee is fucked. He’s never going to be able to do the same things again without a bit of pain.

It’s literally always going to hurt somewhat and you always have to think about if something will hurt it more. It’s exhausting. And yeah there’s fabulous PT out there but. it. can’t. fix. it.

When Jamie wakes up to Roy crying it’s the worst thing. Because he knows. He knows he caused what brings Roy some of the worst pain. (He didn’t actually cause it, his therapist has to keep reminding him.)

Those nights are long for both of them. They both cry together sometimes. Jamie almost always asks Roy the next morning if he wants him to leave and Roy always says something along the lines of ?wtf of course not?

[satureja13]

New Chapter!

Home cr happy home! As soon as they jumped out of the TukTuk, the Boys ran down to their Underground Police Station to look after Tiny Can. How had he been able to repair himself after being blown up? And where did he get all that money from to pay for their school fees? ö.Ö'

But Tiny Can wasn't at the place they left him. This little brat! Of course he was hiding somewhere, fearing Saiwa's wrath. Saiwa: "Spread out and find him! Dead or alive - I don't care. As long as his memory is still intact so we can track where that money came from and give it back. Gods, we are going to jail if this comes out!" Jack tried to defend his (t)rusty friend: "Sai, we don't know what happened to him. I'm sure it isn't as bad as it seems and ..." But Sai didn't listen and kept spitting: "Damn - I knew he was trouble!We should have left him at the temple to rot for the next thousand years! It's all your fault, Jack! You took him with us!" It hurt Kioyshi that his mate got scolded, but he knew that it was useless argueing with Sai when he was in his rage state. And so he hushed the others up and out to search for the lawless tin can... Kiyoshi sighed, he knows that Jack doesn't care much to be Sai's punching bag. More than that, it's a labor of love for his oldest friend.

Jeb and Ji Ho started to search their home lot. Since Tiny Can can even fly short distances, he could be anywhere! Jeb winced internally. Again, Sai is so, so furious. Jeb really needs to find ways how to deal with Sai when he's like that. Or better, ways to take this self-destructive anger off of Sai. And the blame he mortifies himself with. They are all to blame. Not only Sai. This has to stop.

Even though Ji Ho was travelsick and drained again from teleporting, he kept on searching. He even tried to suppress his feelings to not upset Vlad and keep him from their task. Vlad would come back to him immediately if he knew how exhausted he really is and how much he craves Vlad's healing and comforting touch. But this has to wait. Finding Tiny Can is more important than their 'indispositions'... Who knows what has happened to him? Ji Ho doesn't believe Tiny Can broke the law. Tiny Can helped him get his feelings back so Vlad and him can finally be together. Only - Tiny Can also put the influence his grandfather had over him with that spell into the Therapy Game. Ji Ho thought it was to make him so angry to finally open the Pandora's Box with his hidden feelings - to protect his friends. But what if the Council was behind all that? And they called Tiny Can back to extract the evidence he gathered - to use it against them? Ji Ho ran faster - despite his body's hammering ache and desperate pleads for some rest - and Vlad.

Kiyoshi, Vlad and Jack called the horses to search the surroundings. Vlad was torn. Of course he knows how negatively teleporting affects Ji Ho's (and his own) well being and it must be even worse now that he has his feelings back. Vlad would skip the search in an instant to care for Ji Ho but he also knows that Ji Ho would never accept his ministrations at the moment. In fact, rather the opposite. Ji Ho would be embarrassed to cause a fuss and make it even harder for his friends in need. So he kept on raking Tomarang. Ji Ho would send him away anyway.

Not many creatures are able to reach the Otherworld. And no one can stay for longer, so it was pretty pointless to ask the few people who are currently lingering here if they'd seen Tiny Can. But hope is the last to die. As Ji Ho, Jack can't believe either his tinny friend did something illegal to get them into trouble. Tiny Can's actions weren't always clear to them - but Jack is sure he always had good intentions. When Tiny Can let Jack getting killed or set Lou up with Caleb in the Therapy Game, Jack was upset and felt betrayed - of course he was. But in the end, all that Tiny Can did was to help him. He helped all of them. And they owe him. Without Tiny Can, he never would have been able to be mates, just mates with Kiyoshi and he never would have found ways to deal with his (many) disorders.

Kiyoshi rode over to the temples to talk to Arturo, but he also had no luck. One would think that Tiny Can would have ran for shelter to Arturo, who offered the Boys the circuit board with Tiny Can's AI 'to help them through this'. But Arturo didn't see him. Nor had he heard any gossip about a stray Astromech in the Otherworld from the visitor's of the temples he cares for. Surely someone would have noticed him.

And while the others turned every stone in Otherworld's Tomarang, Sai tried to catch a signal from Tiny Can to track him down. But it was as if he was wiped from the planet. They have no internet or phone reception here in the Otherworld, so Sai even connected his computer with their 'Post Office Device' to find a trace of him in the Muggle World - to no avail. And how could Tiny Can even reach the Muggle World without them teleporting him there? No, he must still be here in Tomarang. This little piece of junk must have supressed his signals! Ach, Sai distrusted this rusty tin can from the beginning! And he knew there was something foul about him. Even months ago, he already suspected the Council behind! But they all had been too excited about the Therapy Game and finally getting some help... And Sai had been too confident in his abilities to make it secure for them. But he utterly failed. The blame is on him and him alone. He never should have allowed Jack to bring Tiny Can among them. And he should never have installed that circuit board with the AI into Tiny Can. He created a monster that was bound to destroy them in the end. If the Council now has evidence they stole that much money, no one would be able help them anymore. They would get sentenced and sent to jail and that would incite even more hatred against creatures! All the creatures, in all the worlds... The creatures they are supposed to help. They are a shame and a threat for their community.

... to be continued

'Boom boom, ready to use my body Using the entire city of Seoul as my stage Nod, nod, your head I don’t want to be locked up Gather the crowds, let’s break the taboo We need to spread out Or else we might become scarecrows We can make empty lots into royal spaces This is the peak, don’t exit out now To the left, to the right, rock all night'

Block B - Shall we dance (Real Ji Ho's (and my favourite) group)

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts here with this post :3 Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-28

[diazheartsbuckley]

Fuck it Friday

Tagged by the amazing @eddiediaztho 💗

I cooked this one up yesterday but it still counts, right? 😂

Eddie was still angry. Somewhere between furious and resentful. How could he not be?

He felt betrayed by Buck despite knowing that that wasn’t his intention behind the lawsuit. But the feelings were pooling somewhere deep down in his stomach and after yelling at him that day in the middle of the grocery store, the entire 118 watching, he felt relieved. But only for a second.

And when Buck came back, the forgiveness hadn’t exactly come easy. In fact, Eddie was still working on it somewhere deep down but he had lied to Buck. Told him that things were going to be fine between them. But he didn’t actually know that.

He was taking his anger out on strangers, fighting them in a dusty warehouse, trying to find some sort of escape from the darkest corner of his mind. And he didn’t exactly protect his hands very well.

It’s all a part of it. That’s what makes a good fight. It has to be raw and bloody, someone had told him.

At work, he wore gloves as much as possible to hide the swelling and the bruises, his knuckles stained a mix of black and a deep blue. He was nearly certain that he had broken some bones in his pinky and ring finger as long as the knuckles because he could barely grip around anything, subconsciously moving them away from whatever he held in his hand. It wasn’t exactly discreet but part of him felt like he deserved it.

Deserved the pain. Deserved to feel a constant aching in his bones and in his chest whenever he looked at his best friend. Deserved to feel alone, abandoned and lost. Tormenting himself mentally and physically was the only way that he knew that how to cope. It always had been. He carried his wounds inside of him, ready to burst at the seams at any moment. Sometimes they would feel like they were healing, just for a second, before they were spilt open right down the middle. Fuck needing someone else. Fuck allowing someone to come this close, to let someone in and to have your happiness depend on that person. And maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t angry. He was hurt. He was sad. He felt a sense of loss. The feeling of betrayal that had ensued after the lawsuit stemmed much deeper than just Buck and he knew that. But for now, it was easier to pretend that things were alright, that people didn’t need to worry about it and that things were under control.

They were out on a call when he felt Buck staring at his hand, almost hovering over his shoulder and Eddie felt his heart crashing against his chest, feeling like it was being ripped out of his body with every single breath. He knew that Buck would notice. Parts of him had hoped that he would because it would give Eddie a chance to prove once and for all that he wasn’t angry. Because Buck hadn’t believed it when Eddie had told him that he was forgiven. He wanted to but he couldn’t. Because things were different now. They didn’t talk about it but they both knew that it was true. Trying to go about your life, acting like you were over the pain, the burning of your heart and the knots in your stomach, it required more effort that Eddie was capable of right now.

Sitting on his couch, pressing the ice pack against his hand, the room barely lit so that he couldn’t see the damage done on his hand, made it all feel so much worse.

So much more lonely.

He groaned lowly when he recognized the familiar sound of Buck’s knocking. Two steady taps. And when Eddie was there, the light from the hallway lit up his apartment and Buck didn’t say anything, he just stepped inside.

“What’s with the Batman routine?” Buck joked when he looked around the room, noticing that the only light that were on in Eddie’s living room, was the small lamp by the couch. Eddie was holding the door open, his hand hid behind his back until Buck had walked all the way past him.

“Nothing, I was just… trying to sleep” Eddie said, quickly closing the door behind Buck. Eddie’s words elicited a scoff from Buck and he stopped dead in his tracks, turning on his heel to look at Eddie.

“So what’s with the hand?” Buck pointed to Eddie’s right hand, his left supporting it and Eddie made sure to not react. He dropped both hands down his sides, feeling his jaw clench shut and he shook his head a little.

“Oh so you’re not gonna talk to me about this? I thought we were over this!” Buck’s voice sounded pained, it sounded worried and confused. The exact same emotions showing up on his face as he turned on the lights in the living room, standing hardly a foot away from Eddie. “What the hell are you thinking? You can’t just… run around getting fucking hurt, Eddie. You need your hands to work and this, this doesn’t not look like it’s working” Buck continued and grabbed Eddie’s wrist, holding his right hand up between them and now Buck could truly see the damage. Eddie’s two fingers were badly damaged, swollen and bruised. There were also some minor gashes around his knuckles, like they had come into contact with a hard surface that didn’t move. And the way that he was holding them, indicated that they were broken. Both of his hands looked that way, like he had been punching people or things without anything to protect them. But his right hand was worse.

“Works just fine” Eddie pulled his hand out of Buck’s grip, not that it took a lot because it wasn’t exactly that tight.

“I somehow don’t believe you” Buck rolled his eyes nearly all the way to the back of his head. He took a few steps away from Eddie and then turned around, tossing a bundle of keys to him and they feel to the ground right after landing in his hand. Eddie could feel his chest moving faster than he anticipated and he looked down on the keys on the ground, mocking him. He picked them up with the other hand, tossing them on the kitchen counter instead as he watched Buck’s facial expression go from enraged to concerned. He threw up his arms in defeat and shook his head at Eddie, feeling guilty about the way that Eddie was clearly handling, or rather wasn’t, handling his feelings.

“Still keep the first aid kit in the same place?” Buck pointed towards the bathroom and didn’t wait for an answer before he went in there, grabbed the kit and returned to see that Eddie hadn’t moved an inch.

“I’m not doing that” Eddie grumbled, almost sounding like a child that didn’t want to go to school. Buck shot him a pointed look and even with the way that Eddie was feeling, he silently agreed and sat down on the couch, Buck following soon after. Eddie watched Buck’s hands as he opened up the kit and laid up the supplies that he needed, in front of him.

“Hand. Please” Buck held out his own and Eddie quietly protested by not giving Buck his hand. It made Buck sigh in frustration and Eddie could tell that his patience was wearing thin.

“Alright. So are you going to tell me how in the hell that this happened or are we just gonna sit in silence for the rest of the night? Because I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me” Buck said and Eddie opened his mouth to say something but then hesitated because he knew that it would only make Buck more upset if he knew what happened.

“Buck” Eddie spoke, his voice filled with a mix of sadness but also annoyance. He didn’t want to talk about it. He just wanted to let it go and to have things be how they were. But he knew that neither wasn’t going to happen. Not that easily at least.

“Eddie” Buck’s voice was sharp, more so than intended and it made Eddie feel even worse. He knew that Buck hadn’t wanted to hurt him. That he hadn’t wanted to hurt the rest of the crew and their feelings. But it still happened. And it couldn’t be undone.

The two of them sat in silence for a while until Buck suddenly shot up like a rocket, running his hands from his hair, clearly trying to calm himself down.

“Sit down” Eddie told him and Buck shook his head, not wanting to. He dropped his hands and exhaled sharply then chewed on his lower lip. Eddie gestured to the seat next to him with his eyes and Buck sat back down. The tension between them was unbearable, everything seemed so out of place and Eddie could feel a storm brewing inside of him. He didn’t know how to say what he was about to say without sounding like a hypocrite. And maybe he was.

Maybe he was a hypocrite for thinking that Buck loved him the way that he did. Maybe he was a hypocrite for not understanding Buck’s side in all of this, how lonely it must have been. Maybe he was a hypocrite because all he had been able to focus on was what it did to him, to his heart, to his soul and to his mind.

Buck slowly picked up some of the medical supplies and carefully took Eddie’s hand in his hand, dapping the back of his hand with a small cotton ball, soaked in sanitizer. It distracted Eddie from what he was about to say and he winced in pain despite of Buck’s gentle movements, watching how Buck traced the ball around his knuckles, cleaning up the gashes.

“Fuck, it hurts” Eddie breathed out, surprised by how much he could suddenly feel the throbbing pain in his hand. He could feel it both of them but this was worse. It crept up from his wrist to every single fingertip, every muscle in his hand tensing up to protect itself. “You hurt me, Buck. You hurt me and I had to find a way to make the pain go away” He spoke which made Buck pause his movements.

“Oh so we’re talking about it now?” Buck mumbled bitterly before returning his focus to Eddie’s wounds.

“Cut the crap, Buck” Eddie said and retracted his hand which made Buck look like a little wounded bird. Eddie never knew what to say or do and Buck’s sad baby blues staring back at him wasn’t helping.

“Give me your hand. Please” Buck’s voice was pleading and Eddie couldn’t help to comply, giving Buck what he wanted which was clearly a way on focusing his attention and feelings towards something else.

“I’m serious. What you did, it was a nightmare for me. For Christopher. You’re the one person that I trust more than anyone in this world and you used it. I know why you did. Doesn’t mean that it didn’t fucking suck” Eddie told Buck who was listening but not responding and Eddie nearly retracted his hand when Buck touched his ring finger. His touch was feather light but the pain was immense and parts of him still felt like he deserved it.

“I thought you forgave me” Buck said, his voice nearly shaking. He knew that Eddie hadn’t forgiven him. He knew that Eddie wanted to forgive him but that he couldn’t. But what he did know was why.

“I tried. I fucking tried, Buck. But I still didn’t feel like I could talk to you like I used to, trust you like I used to and that’s the worst part about it. So I-…” Eddie trailed off as he looked down at his hands carefully placed in Buck’s. He had stopped cleaning his wounds and now he was just stroking his knuckles carefully, his skin warm and calloused against Eddie’s. “I started doing street fights. Lena showed me” Eddie admitted and Buck’s movements stopped completely but he didn’t lift his head to look at Eddie.

“So you hurt yourself because of me. You broke two things because of me. I-… I don’t know what to make of that” Buck chuckled wryly, his head nearly spinning at the thought of Eddie hurting himself because of all of this.

“No I hurt myself because I didn’t know what else to do, what else to say and how to deal with everything. It was an easy decision” Eddie promptly said and that’s when Buck finally looked up at him, meeting his eyes. Buck’s eyes were glassy and he was biting his lip harshly, almost drawing blood.

“Why the hell would you do that? Now you got two broken fingers and if I’m not mistaken” Buck reached out and put his hand on Eddie’s side, pressing it on gently and it made Eddie nearly jump in his seat. “Bruised ribs” Buck concluded and Eddie clenched his jaw tightly, grinding his teeth. “How is it an easy decision to hurt yourself like this?” Buck questioned and Eddie pulled his entire body away from Buck. He stood up, holding his arms across his chest and Buck quickly followed, standing face to face with him again. Buck knew exactly how easy it was to decide to hurt yourself, to find an outlet for your pain and for people that you love, to make them see you. That didn’t mean that he wanted the same for Eddie.

Eddie felt frustration rising in him again but it felt different this time around and it felt Buck had struck a nerve without knowing it.

“Because Evan, I’m in love with you! How can you not see that?” Eddie’s words escaped his mouth faster than he could think them and it wasn’t until he saw the look on Buck’s face that he realized what he had just said.

Buck’s jaw felt like it dropped to the floor when Eddie spoke and his eyes widened in pure surprise, his breathing picking up in pace for a few seconds as he just stared at Eddie.

“What?” Buck breathed out as he finally managed to understand what was happening. He was going through a whole array of emotions - surprise, excitement, happiness, nervousness and then back to surprise. And it read so clearly on his face.

Eddie stepped closer to Buck, now owning up to what he had said and then placed a hand on his cheek, gently and slowly until he felt Buck leaning into his touch. It felt new and different but so good to be touching him this way. “I am in love with you. How could I not be?” Eddie said and then watched Buck’s face beamed with joy.

Not knowing what to say, it threw Buck off his game because he always had something to everything. But this, this was a first. Instead he decided to take another step closer to Eddie, closing the distance between them entirely as he grabbed onto the front of his shirt and pulled them flush against one another. Eddie didn’t even have time to react before Buck’s soft lips crash landed against his and it took him a few seconds to even register what was happening but when he did, he kissed Buck back in an instant, not wanting to waste another moment. Their lips worked with each other, frenzied and deeply, Buck’s grip on Eddie’s shirt tightening as they kissed. And right now Eddie hated not having two fully functioning hands because he wanted nothing more than to hold on Buck’s hips. His working hand traveled from Buck’s cheek, down to his shoulder and onto the small of his back, holding him pressed against his chest as they slowly started to break apart.

“You’re in love with me?” Buck questioned, his forehead leaned against the shorter mans. He slowly leaned back, catching Eddie’s eyes in a soft and loving gaze. Eddie’s lips were slightly swollen and beautifully pink, his breathing slightly heavy as he looked back at Buck.

“Yes” Eddie confirmed with a nod and Buck let out a loud, heartfelt laugh and then put his hands on Eddie’s cheeks.

“You’re in love with me” Buck was no longer questioning, he was stating and a feeling of relief washed over Eddie, his entire body relaxing into Buck’s gentle touch.

“I am” Eddie smiled and Buck glanced down at their chests, feeling Eddie’s move with his in a perfect synchronized manner. Eddie could no longer feel the aching in his hands, he could no longer feel the bitterness and the fear of losing Buck that had been drilling into his skull for the past few months. Buck was safe in his arms and by his reaction, Buck felt the same way that he did. If not more. The feelings in him had changed almost overnight and he had no regrets about telling Buck how he feels. Even if it wasn’t intentional.

Tagging!! @watchyourbuck @bucksbirthmark @belovedbuddie @buckleyobsessed @i-ghostgirl @wikiangela @thewolvesof1998 @forthewolves 💗🦋

[pinksirensong]

LOVE OF THE ENDLESS (IV)

Warning: suggestive theme

She could feel his anger before even seeing him. Y/N knew eventually one of her siblings would find her, but never once she thought that it would be Dream of Endless and especially not in this position. Her kiss with Jake was far from innocent, his hands were roaming around the bottom of her body squeezing her butt and making her moan. When Love opened her eyes and saw him, she could see clearly his anger but also a sadness in his eyes, but she couldn’t care less about it for he never cared about her.

- Are you alright, my moon? – he asked after they separated, that man could read her like an open book.

- Yes, of course. It’s just that…

- Y/N! – hearing his voice made not only her but also Jake turn to him. Dream looked exactly like she remembers, as handsome as before but not his cold self. If looks could kill, Jake would be long dead, and the poor man wouldn’t even know why.

- Who is that? – your boyfriend asked.

- I am her lo…

- Brother! He is my younger brother, Morpheus. You already met my twin Des, but there are like another five siblings left so… - she couldn’t believe Dream was about to call her his lover, after everything he did and all the time it took for her to get over him. The nerve he had to even show up here. She turned her body to face her true lover. – I’m so sorry, I don’t really talk to my family aside from Des.

- It’s okay, sweetheart. You’ve already met most of my huge family. – oh yeah, the Australian man had so many family members that if it was anybody else probably wouldn’t remember half of them. All of them were sweet, especially his mother who just loved her. – Nice to meet you, bro. I’m Jake, Y/N’s boyfriend. – he said that with a smile on his lips, proud to be able to call her that and Love always wanted that, she always wanted what Jake gave to her every day.

- Honey, would you mind going ahead? I would like to catch up with my brother.

- Sure, I’ll see at work tonight. – he gave her one last kiss, both ignoring completely the presence of Dream there. After it he said goodbye and left, leaving Love and her brother alone.

- What the fuck are you doing here? I’m not even going to ask how you found me, because I’m pretty sure Destiny had something to do with it. – she was furious with her twin, how could he betray her like that and without a warning.

- Who is he?

- Excuse me?

- Who. Is. He. – Dream of Endless wasn’t up for any games, he came for her, and that situation wasn’t what he was expecting.

- As Jake already told you, he is my boyfriend. In case you don’t know what that is, because you’ve been away for some time, he is my significant other. Did Destiny send you here? I know he is pissed about it, but I already explained that I’m breaking no rules here.

- You cannot be with him, Y/N.

- Oh, but I can. – while Love thought he was talking about the fact an Endless couldn’t be with a mortal, in Dream’s mind that didn’t even cross his mind, he only worried about that boy who had his hands on what was his. – Tell our brother that if he’s going to be this way, I’m gonna vanish from his life too.

- Destiny had nothing to do with it. We must talk.

- We are talking, brother.

- Alone! – he took hold of her wrists and a second later they were at his throne room at the Dreaming.

- How…How dare you? You have no right taking me like that!

- You ask how dare I? I should be the one asking how dare you, Love of the Endless, form a…a…relationship with that mortal. – at each step he gave forward she went backward until her legs collided with his throne. – For a century all I could think about was you, when I saw your dove with Jessamy it brough me hope. Hope that someone cared enough to look for me. Your dove tried to free me and had the same destiny as my raven, and thinking about how much pain that would cause you broke my heart. And then...then you freed me, Y/N. I know it was you. I saw it in his eyes, I could feel your presence. After recovering my tools and dealing with a Vortex I was determined to find you, but Destiny came to me first and told me everything.

- What are you talking about, brother? – she couldn’t look at him, deep down she knew what it was.

- About the thread, your thread…our thread. Why have you never told me about it?

- Because it wouldn’t matter! Because for you I’ve always been someone that you desire but never loved, a body to satisfy your needs and left right after. You excused your behaviour saying it was wrong for we are brother and sister, but that is the truth and I’m tired of it. – Love fought back the tears that were trying to fall from her eyes. – Nada, Calliope, that other fae and so many others that you always put before me and yet I was the one you went at night to whisper sweet things and making me moan and scream while our bodies joined each other. For too long I let myself be satisfied with this, but not anymore. Never again, now I’m going to deal with things my way. Jake’s thread is dead, I can tangle his with mine and we can be happy.

- You will not do such a thing. – holding her left arm he pulled her up and towards him. – I know that before I was awful and that you deserved better. I am different now, there is no fear and no shame. Y/N, my love, I do not care if you are my sister, even before knowing the truth I was already set on making things right between us. That mortal is a mere distraction. – after thousands of years apart he couldn’t control himself anymore, using his hand to pull her by her neck, Morpheus finally kissed her. It took Y/N by surprise and at first, she did nothing but stand there, but soon it was like her body was on automatic mode and she parted her lips to let his tongue inside. Their bodies were like on fire, their tongues fighting over dominance exploring each other’s mouth, they were starved for too long and nothing, but this could ever satiate them.

Y/N tried to tell herself it was wrong, it shouldn’t be happening, but her body, and most important her soul, didn’t think that way. Using his strength Morpheus pulled her up and Y/N took advantage to put her legs around him holding herself against him, that movement alone made the king moan in pleasure. Neither knew who did what, but soon the upside part of her dress was down, exposing her breasts to him, while his shirt was throw somewhere across the room. Her hands roamed at his back scratching some parts with her nails, their kiss was as endless as they were. Y/N let out a whine when she felt his cold hands grabbing her boobs and squeezing them, but although she felt an enormous pleasure from it, that was also what woke her up to the situation. Finally regaining some conscious, Love pushed him away planting her feet on the ground and putting back the part of the dress that exposed too much of her.

- This was a mistake. – she heard this so many times, yet it was her first time saying it. – Jake is the solution, you just have to stay away. Please, stay away. He’s good for me, he loves me! – she distanced herself from him, she had to. - Can’t you see? This is our only chance, we can finally be free of this…of us. You have to let me go, so we can be what you always wanted us to be…brother and sister.

- Y/N, please just…

- Goodbye, brother. – without giving him a chance to say anything, she used her powers to come back to the waking world, to the life she fought so much to have.

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 tag list: @the-ruler-of-death @mrs-captainsteverogers @jesllianaquilesrolon @igotanidea @intothesoul @hedwigprewett12 @queenshelby @mattmurdockmylove @boofy1998 @andieperrie18 @formenis @violet-19999

[moonshine-nightlight]

Don’t Shoot the Messenger: Part Two

Despite how it might seem, being a messenger for the feared sea-demon pirate, Admiral Satrasi, infamous far and wide for having an entire fleet of raiding vessels  who answer to him alone, is a relatively safe job. After all, no one knowingly crosses the Admiral. However, it seems the most recent captain looking to join his fleet hasn’t gotten that bulletin yet.

Fantasy, pirates, male monster x female reader, male demon, M/F, Part 2 of 9

Warnings: violence (choking), misogynistic insults

Story Status: COMPLETE

AO3: Don’t Shoot the Messenger Chapter 2

[Part One] Part Two [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Eight] [Part Nine - NSFW]

You’re not sure what makes Critchley get out of your face or stop squeezing your throat—although he certainly doesn’t let go. Maybe it’s the look of rage in your eyes. Most likely it's the silence that spreads out through the room in a rippling wave as everyone notices what he’s done. You’re certain that silence being broken by the drawing and cocking of flintlocks helps.

As your left hand reaches down to your holster, murmurs and growls fill the room from your newly attentive audience. You cannot believe the nerve of him, the audacity. He’s doing this in one of the places you feel safest. You don’t feel afraid though, that sense of sanctuary isn’t shattered. 

You’re just furious.

“Oi!” one man shouts from nearby. “That’s a Marlin you’re knocking about.”

“Haven’t you any sense?” another admonishes.

“Too blitzed to know any better,” someone says to their neighbor, a snicker to her voice that says she knows what’s to come of it.

“His funeral.” That one is bored, with a hint of teeth. “Wonder if we can scavenge the leftovers.”

“They letting the brainless in these days?” someone wonders.

“Admiral ain’t gonna like this.” 

And that’s why you still feel safe. He might think he’s in charge, but you know you are.

Captain Critchley’s drawn his own gun, as have the majority of his crew, on pure instinct. Instead of fear though, he’s mostly pissed off as he looks around the room at the crowd of disapproving onlookers. “Can’t a man deal with pompous jabbermouths without it becoming every lookie-loos business?”

You take the opportunity to bring his attention back where it belongs. In one smooth motion that doesn’t betray your anger or the fact that you still can barely breathe, you bring your blade down to rest against his arm. The sensation is light, but the edge is sharp enough to slice through the fabric of his jacket and his shirt. He turns his head at the sensation, his movement and the jostling of his arm against the blade is enough to score a line in his skin.

Your voice is raspy and harsh from his treatment of your throat, but your job relies on your words so you make yourself clearly heard. “Let. Me. Go.”

His lip curls in a sneer before he realizes exactly what blade you’ve got in hand and he goes pale.

“Don’t you know all Marlins got demon blades?” an onlooker jeers. “What a scut.”

Demon blades are the sharpest blades to exist. A curved blade of typically dark metal, they are fashioned from demon bone or claw and then honed and fixed to a hilt. Sharp as anything and well, say somethin’ about the person who’s got one. But more than that, demon blades fall into two main types beyond material—those made by a demon, possibly from their own body, and bound up with demon blood magic and those made by a human or lesser demon without anything special.The latter are infinitely rarer and infinitely more valuable as they are bonded to their wielder and will be dull in another’s hand. It is only if the bond person is killed that it can be rebound to a new owner.

While demons are slightly more common in remote areas and of course deeper in the Unbroken Sea, they are far outnumbered by humans. Between the rarity of the material and the rarity of the knowledge needed to make true demon blades, they’re highly prized. Yours was given to you by Satrasi himself, of himself—one of his teeth—and it is bound to you. 

And a demon blade can slice through anything—anything—with practically no effort. You can see that thought flash through Critchley’s mind. He lets you go the moment he realizes you can cut through his arm like you would water.

You drop, even though you hadn’t technically been held off your feet, down to one knee, bracing yourself with your free hand. You gulp in air even as you keep your blade pointed at Critchley, who has lost any self-preservation he had gained with your knife to his skin and smirks down at you.

The room is no longer silent, filled with nervous murmurs and tension, no one quite sure what’s going to happen next. No one has ever had the audacity or stupidity to attack a personal messenger of the Admiral on hallowed ground such as the Saucy Siren before.

You aren’t confused about what’s going to happen next. You’re going to finish delivering your message tonight and then deliver your reply in the morning to Satrasi, as is your mission. This scum will get what’s coming to him then, as it should be.

With your breathing returning to normal, you make to get up, only for a mottled brown hand to enter your field of vision. You grasp the hand offered by the first mate of the Hungry Serpent and allow them to help you back up to your feet.

“What’re ye doing?” Takis asks, staring incredulously at Critchley, their hair adding to the effect as multiple snakes join them in staring. Any other of the crew from the Hungry Serpent that had been mixing with the Lux Lady’s crew have distanced themselves, as if worried the consequences of Critchley’s stupidity might be contagious. 

“What’s it to you?” Critchley snaps, obviously disliking being questioned and on edge from the number of guns out and looks pointed his way.

“This is Admiral territory and you just attacked a Marlin,” Takis replies, folding their arms. “Can’t do that here.”

“I can do what I fuckin’ please,” Critchley replies tetchily. 

“No,” Takis leans forward, their expression hard. “Ye can’t. Ye ain’t one of us, yer a guest. An’ we’re willing to excuse all manner of fumblin’ on account of not knowin’ the codes ‘round here. This ain’t one of ‘em. Don’t care where ye are or where yer from—ye don’t assault a personal messenger of the Admiral.”

“The cracknob girlie is fine,” Critchley rolls his eyes and takes a swing from his bottle. “If she were doin’ her job right and taking my message down as she should, I wouldn’t have had to get so close and personal-like.”

“You haven’t given a proper answer yet,” you take this moment to speak, resisting the urge to rub your throat and grimacing inwardly at how rough it still sounds. “When do you wanna meet with the Admiral?”

Critchley swallows another mouthful of gin, confident now that you’ll not be retaliating. The lack of menace on your part has clearly reinforced his own belief in either your incompetence or weakness. “And you’re still not listening—I’ll see him tomorrow. If you don’t wanna bring him my answer, that’s your problem—not mine.”

You narrow your eyes at his careless grin and look over his crew. Those closest to him and therefore you, all seem to be of the same mind, sniggering and drinking as they look dismissively away from you or glare resentfully at the still on edge other pirates around them, for all most of them are back to their own games given Takis is speaking with you and with you back on your feet. 

Some of the others though, ones that are still clearly from the Lux Lady but standing further back, are much warier, drunk as they are, and look twitchy, seemingly trying to decide if Critchley is the bigger threat or the specter of the Admiral. They seem to think that for the moment, it's better to stay by their captain’s side, but you wouldn’t be surprised if they spooked away just as easily.

Never a good sign, when half a captain’s crew doesn’t trust him. You look over Critchley’s coat and spy the cut-off bits that signify he might once have been a navy man, an officer. Those always make the worst sort of pirate captain, as they feel eternally cheated and eternally entitled–resentful. They only manage to stay captain if they’ve got muscle to back them up, which he seems to have. They’re always outnumbered in the end.

“Alright,” you say evenly—noticing his surprise at your even keeled answer. “If that’s what your answer is, so be it. Let me know if you change your mind.” You don’t bother telling him how to contact you if he does, because well, you know his type.

He scowls. “I won’t.”

You stare at him for an extra moment before you shrug. You’ve delivered your message and you’d prefer to have a real answer from him, but you don’t mind—he can dig himself as deep as he’d like. Your gaze flickers over his crew and you can see they’re unsettled by your lack of reaction too. 

Good.

You deliberately turn your back on Captain Critchley. You no longer have any designs on staying here for the evening. Instead, you’ll be retiring to your cabin early. You only make it a few steps before Takis reaches for your elbow. They say your name even as you deftly move away from their hand. You glance at them from the corner of your eye, silently telling them to speak their part.

“What are ye gonna do?”

You raise your brows and frown. “Do? I’m not going to do anything.”

“He attacked you,” Takis says, as if worried you might have missed that. “Here. Ye gotta do something.”

“No,” you reply, shaking your head only to wince at the strain it puts on your neck which is aching something fierce and feels almost as if there’s something stuck in it though you know there isn’t. “I don’t. It’s not my code he broke.” You don’t grin, don’t let anything show on your face, but you have no doubt justice will be served on your behalf. Satisfaction is what flows through your veins when you say, “Admiral Satrasi will be most displeased.”

You brush off Takis’ offer to walk you out, refusing to say anything more on the matter when you don’t have to. You make your own way back to the carrier, turning your collar up and moving with the right amount of speed and confidence that no one can get a good look at your neck. You didn’t particularly care who might see or what they might think, you simply didn’t want to have to speak or explain. You are patient when it comes to Critchley’s punishment in the morning, not now when you just want to retire for the evening with a soothing tonic.

Your cabin on the carrier is near the stern, only two floors below deck. You have a private lavatory and study as well as a bed chamber. None of them are furnished extravagantly—and you have seen some of the fanciest ship personal chambers through your duties—but it’s still the finest set of rooms you ever had, ever dreamed of, mostly likely because you were homeless a great of your life. It’s taken time for you to earn these rooms and longer to furnish them as you see fit, but they have long been home to you.

You feel a weight drop from your shoulders as you cross the threshold and deadbolt the door shut. You carefully lift your satchel over your head, not wanting to jostle your neck any more than you need to. Meticulously you remove your various other accessories, unbutton your overcoat, your waistcoat, and remove your pockets. Clad in your white undershirt and billowy trousers, you head over to your desk. Next to it, you open up your chest of precious medical balms and remedies.  

By now your throat is hurting something fierce and breathing is harder than makes you comfortable—not to mention the throbbing headache you have. Thanking the creator of this carrier for their foresight, you pump water into a basin, drinking some delicately. Soaking some rags in the cold water to drape around your throat, you find that does help soothe it, although you’re careful not to wrap them tightly. 

You’re used to patching yourself up when you can, normally forgetting you have access to a physician these days. Even tonight, you know you could go to one, but you’re sure you can manage on your own. Besides, you don’t want to explain the situation and potentially have to talk someone out of telling Satrasi right now—especially when it hurts to speak. 

According to your medical book—the most precious book you own—you carefully measure out doses to help with your throat. Only after taking those do you reluctantly duck down to the closest kitchen storeroom for some ice.

You were able to move swiftly enough, you’re back,curled up under the warm blanket you bought after a particularly successful negotiation with Commander Hart soon enough. You prop yourself up in bed to sleep, glad that since the carrier is anchored up tonight, so you can use the bed frame for the stability rather than your hammock. Weariness rushes over you in lazy waves and you succumb easily, content in the knowledge that all would be set right in the morning. 

It’s deeply comforting to know with iron confidence that someone has your back, is on your side, and perhaps that's why your dreams are full of memories of your first meeting with Satrasi—the first time you ever felt that way.

[Part Three]

[butlersxbirdy]

You Light My Morning Sky: Part 14

Meet Me In The Afterglow

Warnings: ANGST, angry Daddy!Austin, apologies, cock ring use, oral, pregnancy scare, negative pregnancy test, hurt/comfort, fighting/making up, extreme sadness, extreme cuteness, food mention

Austin had, quite honestly, had it with you.

It was a new feeling, and he truly hated it. Being angry with you was like having the worst stomach ache in the world, and he should know. The pain he felt when being rushed to the hospital was nearly a paper cut compared to being furious with you, his girl. His mama. 

It wasn’t as though he was to blame. All day, you’d been a whiny, wet, and fussy Princess, but this was different. You were horny, but also weepy, and a little bossy and mean. The way you begged was teasing, and not in the sweet, loving way you usually were on the days that lived rent free in his mind. Today, everything he tried to accomplish was foiled by you climbing into his lap, humping his leg, or pushing papers away from him and getting on his desk. He was getting more growly and dominant by the minute, and you hadn’t picked up on the fact that he was getting fed up. 

Maybe that was part of his frustration. Usually you knew his thoughts before we fully formed them, could read every flash of his eyes, twitch of his brow, gesture of hands. Today, you were only thinking with the dripping, swollen bud between your legs, and as the rightful owner of said treasure, Austin felt betrayed slightly. He swatted your pussy roughly on one particularly annoying swipe of his desk.

“Behave,” he growled and practically tossed you onto the couch. He had promised you dinner, but he was getting no work done, and it was making him tense and angry.

“Daddyyyyy!” you whine, feeling upset, ignored, edged, and now, hungry. “When can we eat? And fuck?” you whine, and he rolls his eyes, snarling. For some reason this was the last straw.

“I’ve tried, I have, but I’ve gotten nothing done. Go to bed. I’ll be up when I finish this. So… 2 in the morning. Don’t be awake when I get there,” he yells, face red and eyes dark with rage.

You pause. You’ve seen this anger, never directed at you. You don’t want to believe it’s true, so you stand there, before gently reaching a hand out, and he shies away.

“Daddy…” you say quietly, tears coming to your eyes. 

“You heard me.”

You nod, lip trembling, and you go stand by the stairs. Since the accident, he goes up the stairs with you, and when you can, you go down the stairs with his help too. He insists on it. This time, however, he crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’m not kidding, Princess. Go on up to bed,” he says quietly, and firmly. You honestly can’t believe he would be so cruel, and you go up the stairs, carefully, as your whole body is shaking. You don’t go to bed, however. You can’t sleep. You don’t know if you’ll ever sleep again without seeing that dark look in his eyes. Instead you grab the blanket he got you for your birthday, a pillow, and lay on the floor at the top of the stairs, watching him work below through the bars of the railing. 

He’s still the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen, but acid bubbles in your throat when thinking of his beauty now, instead of peace settling over your whole body. You were sure the time of being his Princess, his Mama, was over. He was going to come upstairs and break up with you. A cold feeling spreads unpleasantly in your chest, and the sobs come, finally. You cling to your pillow and cry, so hard your whole body can’t stop trembling. You love him so much, still, but when you look at him now, and try to picture him promising to love you and giving himself to you, you can’t. The image was gone, when just this morning it was all you could think about. You can’t sleep, you can’t stop looking at him, and you cannot stop crying. He keeps working, and you want to make him see you, make him look at you with a sweet smile and love you again. You knew you could do it, if he would just look at you.

“Daddy…” you whisper. He doesn’t hear you. 

An hour goes by. He is still working, and you are still crying. Finally, he stretches, takes a deep breath, gets up from the desk, and pours himself a drink. He downs it in one go, before coming up the stairs and spotting you. 

“Princess, I told you to go to bed,” he says quietly. He doesn’t sound angry now, he sounds defeated. “Come on. Go to sleep, let’s go,” he says softly, kneeling down, and then he sees your face.

Your eyes are glassy and your face is covered with red splotches and tears. Your expression is dazed and vacant, and when he tries to touch you, you wiggle away.

“Baby, come on, I was working, I’m sorry I yelled,” he says softly, looking at you with love, and something else, that you hate.

He’s pitying you. It makes you want to throw up.

“You screamed at me. I would have listened. You could have said red, or stop,” you sob, curling in on yourself. “You were so mean. I’m such a good baby,” you wail, crying harder.

“Baby, I did, you didn’t listen-” he starts and you look up at him.

“You didn’t. You said wait, later, in a minute, help Daddy get stuff done. Why do you think I got on the desk?” you sniffle. “You spanked my pussy. That always means you’re getting worked up and wanna play. You promised me dinner. I’m hungry,” you hiss all of this at him, and he pauses. 

He never said red. He never said to stop. He teased you, completely unintentionally. The shame overwhelms him, and he looks down at you with love and sadness etched in his ethereal face. 

“Baby girl, Daddy is so sorry,” he says softly. He reaches out to touch you, and you duck away once more. “Baby, don’t be like that, please? Don’t take my Princess away from me, I’m trying to apologize,” he pouts.

“Now you care?” you snarl. “You took my Daddy away. Ducked away from me, I had no idea you were that upset, I was offering to listen and help you. You don’t give a shit about me,” you sniffle, and look away. He frowns and looks wounded.

“Babe, we had a fight, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care,” he says quietly. “I love you, I just-” 

“You let me go upstairs by myself, Austin! Daddies don’t do that! It was your rule that I don’t go alone, so I don’t get hurt. You sent me to bed like a child. You wanted me away from you so badly, you didn’t even give me the time of day,” you howl, holding your stomach, which is sore from crying and lack of food. His eyes catch how you’re holding yourself, and he sits on the ground next to you instead of kneeling. 

“I know. I took Daddy away, I just…” he sighs. He knows there is no excuse. He hurt you, and he did break his own rule. “There’s no excuse. That was bad, I know,” he whispers. “I’m under a lot of pressure, but you’re my light. No need to bring that shit on you, you just wanted to make Daddy feel better. And it’s not an inconvenience when you’re horny for me or need my help. It’s not. That’s a compliment. I need you for plenty of stuff too,” he sighs, running a hand over his face. 

You look at him, slowly unwrapping yourself from the curled up hiding position you adopted. He looks so tired, sad, and a little scared. You slowly crawl over to him and settle in his lap.

“Daddy you look tired. And you just had two shots worth of whisky without having dinner first,” you whisper. “You really hurt me. I couldn’t picture our wedding while I was up here, I was looking at you, and I couldn’t picture our wedding anymore, but… I feel better now. And you clearly need food. So do I,” you sniffle. He needs his girl now. No time to fight, Daddy needs care. You reach your hands out to touch him, and he holds your hands instead.

“Don’t be nice to me. I was horrible,” he says softly. “I’m so sorry, Princess, I…can I make it up to you?” he asks, cuddling you as best he can. 

“Please get us some food?” you sniffle. “I’m really hungry, I’m sorry I was such a brat,” you whine and he frowns, cupping your face.

“I didn’t communicate. You’re a good girl, my best girl. My Princess. I should have realized, I am so, unbelievably sorry. It breaks my heart that you stopped being able to picture our wedding, because that’s what I was picturing to motivate me to get things done,” he explains, wiping his eyes. “I’ll get you anything you want for dinner, then if you’ll let me, I’d like you to have 2 orgasms before a hot bath, okay?” he asks, stroking your reddened, tear streaked cheek.

“Really?” you sniffle, and you scoot closer to him on his lap. “You sure?”

“I am completely sure, baby. What do you want for dinner?” he asks, leaning in and pressing soft, reverent kisses to your hair.

“Pizza,” you giggle, wiping your face. “Wanting pizza and Daddy’s cock all day,” you whine, and one of your arms wraps around your stomach while the other remains tightly around him. 

“Pizza it is, Baby,” he grins, watching you closely. “Hey, I love you,” he whispers, kissing you gently. You kiss him back and nuzzle him. 

“I love you too, Daddy,” you smile shyly. “T..thanks for apologizing,” you whisper, looking down.

“Babe,” his gentle touch guides your face to look at him, “I owed you an apology. I messed up. I hurt my most precious treasure,” he bites his lip and looks at you.

“You didn’t hurt your pussy, Daddy, it was just one spank,” you giggle, and he huffs out a laugh, pressing his hand to your chest.

“Your heart. I hurt your heart,” he whispers, and he leans in and presses a kiss to the place where your heart beats his name in your chest. He holds you close and keeps you in his arms as he uses his phone to order pizza for pickup. He has an idea, a seed of curiosity taking shape in his mind, and he knows he has to figure it out or he won’t think of anything else.

“Why pickup, Daddy? I don’t wanna go anywhere,” you pout and he shakes his head.

“I’m making James pick it up,” he explains softly, kissing your nose. He texts James, his assistant, and asks him to pick up the pizza, some coconut milk ice cream, and two pregnancy tests, somehow without you seeing. He asks him to hide them even from you, and promises to explain later. “I don’t want anyone knowing the building, and I want you to have some ice cream too, you’ve had a hard day,” he tucks his phone away and kisses you. You kiss him back, barely noticing that he’s standing with you in his arms. “Back downstairs for some orgasms and pizza. And you’re not walking,” he assures you. You giggle and cling to him.

“Daddy, I love you so much,” you sigh and he hugs you. 

“I’m so glad to hear you say that because you’re my heart and soul, and I really could have fucked it all up,” he nuzzles you. “You’re super lovey today, kinda mad I missed out on a whole day of my arms being full of adorable Princess,” he chuckles. He goes to the bedroom and puts two items in his pocket, then he carries you downstairs, laying you gently on the couch.

“Daddy?” you ask nervously when he lays you down, and instantly he’s holding you.

“What is it, Baby?” he asks, rubbing your sides. 

“Can I…maybe have those orgasms before dinner?” you ask nervously, and Austin nods.

“Don’t be nervous, baby. That’s the plan. I love you, don’t be scared, please,” he begs. He looks terrified that you’ll hate him, and the look of fear and hurt in your eyes when he screamed at you is burned in his brain. “How do you wanna cum?” he asks you, tenderly pulling your shirt up and you quickly take it off.

“Your tongue and your cock,” you smile. “When I cum on your cock, can you make love to me” you blush, wiggling closer to him. “I want to feel you, please?”

Austin smiles and kisses you, tugging your shorts down. 

“Yes Baby, I can, but I want you to help Daddy with something first,” he strokes your thighs, already feeling the desire pool in his belly at how good you smell and how wet you are.

“What’s that, Daddy?” you ask, spreading your legs. He slowly undresses and pulls the items he grabbed from the bedroom out of his pocket. A cock ring and a tiny bottle of lube are in his hand.

“Daddy doesn’t get to cum. Only the prettiest princess in the world will be cumming tonight. Please. Even Daddies earn punishments sometimes, and I know you’d never do this to me, but I’m doing it to myself. Just need your help a bit,” he explains, and you frown.

“You don’t have to,” you start but he shakes his head.

“Let me live in servitude to my Princess. Let Daddy do this,” he says quietly. “I don’t need to cum. I need to make my princess cum. So beautiful, so wet, so needy,” he smiles, fingers tracing your entrance, sliding through the wetness gathering there. You whine, and nod, making grabby hands. 

“Gotta get you hard, Daddy,” you whine, and he hands you the lube and the cock ring. You put some of the lube in your palm, and start stroking him. He hisses at the familiar touch of his precious girl, rocking into your hand a little, and he fights the natural impulse to grip your hair and guide your mouth onto him. When he’s rock hard and groaning low in his chest, you take your hand away, and put the cock ring on him; lubing it first, you slide it down slowly and make sure it’s not pinching as it goes over his balls. He groans and looks down on you.

“Such a good girl, Princess. Thank you so much for helping, you did a great job, doesn’t hurt or anything,” he smiles and kisses you.

“Are you sure you want that, Daddy?” you ask, but you’re melting under the praise already. He nods.

“Yes. I’m gonna lick you first, James is on the way so I wanna be quick, and I’m gonna carry you upstairs to get dressed when he knocks. I don’t want him seeing you naked,” he says lovingly, but quite firmly. You are his.

“Yes, Daddy,” you smile obediently, and he growls, lowering his face to your folds.

“God, you’re delicious,” he moans before pressing his tongue to your clit, making sparks fly behind your eyes. You’d almost forgotten, in all the sadness, that you had been on edge all day, and the feeling of sweet relief is so close. You can now taste it, feel it on the horizon, and only Austin could satisfy your craving. You chase the feeling, rolling your hips a bit, and he rubs your stomach as he sucks on your clit, then opens his mouth, covering you completely with the loving attention of his tongue and lips. When his tongue finally pushes into you, you cry out.

“Daddy! Please!” you beg, voice cracking from the pleasure and the tears of relief and joy coursing down your face. He moans against your cunt, flicking his tongue inside you and bumping his nose eagerly against your clit. His voice vibrates through you, the sounds of his pleasure spurring you on. He’s getting nothing out of this, you know that. He wants only to make you happy, and he’s doing it. Your belly feels tight and hot, and you can feel your pulse in your clit. Austin, being the expert in all things related to you, senses how close you are, and he sucks on your clit hungrily, moaning and growling as he gently scrapes his teeth against you. That’s all it takes for that heat to spread over your whole body, and you gush all over his lips with a scream.

“Daddy! Yes!” you cry, and he licks you through the aftershocks of your high. “So good, need you, please!” your voice cracks again, and he pulls himself away with a few more hungry licks. 

“God, you taste heavenly,” he groans, pulling you into a deep kiss. “Green, angel?” he asks between sloppy, messy kisses as his fingers trace and gently apply pressure to your throat before his eyes dart down to your stomach and he goes back to gently tracing your jaw and neck, the kisses remaining hungry and rough.

“Yes,” You gasp. “Green!”

That was all he needed to slide right into you, and he grunts when his cock twitches, bound by the ring. 

“Gods you feel so… fuck!” he snarls, kissing you hungrily as he plows into you, starting rough but then his thrusts slow, into gentle, rolling waves of lovemaking. Instead of slamming into you, he drags his cock along your spot. His kisses are tender and loving, and he runs his hands all over your body.

“Princess… baby girl…” he moans, holding you tenderly and running his hands through your hair. “God��Fuck, I love you… I’m so sorry…Daddy never meant to hurt you…” he moans, pressing kisses everywhere he can. Your arms wrap around him and he kisses your lips softly, lifting one of your legs to his shoulder so he can go even deeper. “My little Mafia Wife,” he moans and the name spreads heat throughout your body. 

“Daddy! Please!” you cry out, and he smiles, hands tangling in your hair and rubbing your thigh.

“My bad ass Baby… Mafia Wife..” he hums low in his throat with every gentle thrust. He lowers his head to latch his lips on to one of your eagerly awaiting nipples, and you gasp, feeling your peak approaching already. Austin is giving you his all, his best work, though he knows he won’t be able to cum with you. This is the essence of his love, his devotion, the depth of his apology, and you drink in every detail of his gorgeous body, and heavenly face. The whole picture drives you wild, and your walls clench around his cock, which is driving you closer to heavenly release with every subtle roll of his hips.

“My gorgeous Daddy…” your nails scratch down his back, eliciting a low grunt as he picks up speed. “More! Close!” you cry out sharply, a harsh contrast to the sultry tone you had used.

“Cum for me, Daddy’s aching, cum for me and end this delicious hell,” he begs, pulling you close and angling his hips down so he can press on your clit. “Let me make you feel like a goddess,” his moans sound choked and desperate, and when he bites down gently on your nipple, your eyes slide closed and you cum. Your orgasm is gentle but relentless, washing over you like high tide, and it takes awhile to ride it out. And ride it out with you, he most certainly does. He clings to you, murmuring soft sweet nothings, and doesn’t pull out until he knows he’s overstimulating you. Never wanting to dull the pleasure with pain, he slips out of you gently, rubbing your legs and your stomach reverently. 

“I love you,” he pants, laying next to you. “I will always love you. I’m proud of you for fully participating in what you thought was an undeserved punishment, but you should always say red. Say red before we get to the part where you’re crying and thinking I don’t love you. And if it’s not me making you feel that low, punch them in the face,” he says softly, nuzzling your glowing skin. “No one has the right to treat my Mafia Wife like that. Not even- especially not- me,” he instructs, kissing your lips gently. Tears flood your eyes at his words, and you cuddle in close to him.

“Thank you, Daddy. I’ll do that next time,” you promise him. “In the moment, I just… kinda forgot I could do that. You looked so angry, I forgot I had a way to get out of it and ask for help. I wanted to make you happy, and proud of me so bad, so you’d stop looking at me like you hated me,” you sniffle, and he holds you tight.

“I hate myself for giving you a reason to doubt. I really hate myself for it. You’re my love, my wife, my Princess,” he kisses your jaw and then your lips. “I will never fall out of love with you.”

“I will never stop loving you,” you whisper, and the two of you lay together, kissing and reassuring one another, until his phone goes off. He growls a little, and you giggle as he sits up and checks his phone. James is on his way up.

“Time to go,” he gets up quickly, and he grabs the clothes and the lube, then scoops you up with an ease that still amazes you, and gets you upstairs. He hands you some panties, some cozy flared leggings that he thinks you look adorable in and a sweater that covers you. He gets the cock ring off, and he puts on some briefs that will help conceal his erection, some sweatpants, and a t shirt. You get dressed quickly, and he holds your hand to go back down the stairs, right as James knocks. 

“Hey, man, thank you so much,” Austin smiles appreciatively when he lets him in.

“No problem, I’m glad I could help,” he grins. “What's up, Memphis Mama?” he asks, grinning at you. You blush and give him a quick hug.

“Nothin much, just had quite the day,” you answer, fiddling with your hair. James puts the pizza box on the counter and takes the bag in his hand to the freezer, putting the ice cream in the freezer and tucking the bag away while Austin serves you some pizza on a paper plate.

“Eat up, baby,” he smiles, kissing you gently before taking a few slices for himself. You take a big bite, and hum happily, then look around the kitchen from where you sit.

“Do we have pepper flakes, or hot sauce?” you ask, and James and Austin exchange a look.

“Yeah, it came with some, here Princess,” Austin finds them for you, and sprinkles them on to your pizza for you.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you smile, leaning on him as you are feeling very soft and snuggly, and want contact. 

“Well, I’m off,” James says, grinning at the display, and you frown.

“James, you can stay for a slice,” you offer. “It’s been forever since we got to catch up!” 

“I can’t tonight, but I will come back soon, and we will do something fun,” he promises and gives you a hug goodbye. Austin stands up and walks James to the door. You can hear them exchanging a few words outside, but you pay no mind as you cheerfully eat your pizza, mildly wishing Daddy would come back, but really just happy to be eating food. 

Outside, Austin and James are deep in conversation. 

“Good call on the tests,” James says in an undertone, and Austin sighs.

“Right? I’m not crazy?” he asks and James shakes his head.

“She’s all glowy and since when does she like spicy pizza?” he asks and Austin shrugs.

“Who the fuck knows? Although my ego compels me to tell you the glowy thing might not be because of a baby,” he chuckles and James rolls his eyes.

“Go. You’re gross. I’ll call you tomorrow. Don’t tell me first, but put me in the top ten,” he grins, and leaves.

Austin comes back in as you’re finishing your food, and he kisses you softly, getting you a glass of water before sitting down to finish his food too.

“Hydrate, baby,” he reminds you gently, and you drink the whole thing quickly.

“Thank you so much for this, Daddy,” you smile at him. “I’m really grateful for these quiet times, just us. And it was nice to see James too.”

“I love this too, Baby,” he grins, clearing the plates. He takes a deep breath, and he looks at you. His beautiful girl. Upsetting you was never his favorite thing but he knows this is necessary, even if it might hurt you. “Can I talk to you about something, without you getting upset?”

You nod slowly, anxiety welling in your stomach.

“S..sure, Daddy,” you say nervously, arms wrapping around your stomach. He comes over and holds you close.

“We’re great, Baby, don’t worry,” he assures you, and goes to get the bag. “I’ve noticed some stuff today, and the past week or so, and I thought, maybe it could be good to have all the information,” he smiles lovingly at you, and pulls the pregnancy tests out of the box. Your eyes widen, and he takes your hand. “You know I wouldn’t make this suggestion lightly, you know how much I love you,” he pleads, looking into your eyes. You nod, and your hand lands on your stomach unconsciously.

“You really think… we’re gonna have a…really?” you ask, chewing your lower lip.

“Don’t bite,” he runs his fingers over your lips before kissing them gently. “I think there’s a chance. And if there is a chance, I can’t have you finding out too late, or going to another party with you, sharing drinks with you, if there’s a chance our baby is in your belly,” he explains, and you take a deep breath.

“That’s a very good point,” you agree, knowing he’s trying to protect you. “Okay. Well, let me drink some more water, and when I have to pee, let’s find out,” you nod, and you look at him.

“If we’re gonna be parents, I’m gonna cancel some stuff,” he starts talking. His hands are shaking and he’s licking his lips. “I’m canceling everything, not gonna be away from you while you’re pregnant,” he continues and you shake your head.

“That’s crazy, I’ll come with you,” you argue and he looks at you incredulously.

“9 months pregnant? In Budapest? Or bringing a newborn?” he asks, eyes flashing. “No way,” he shakes his head, and he scoops you up, carrying you in his arms as he paces. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“Austin, it’s not the great wars, it’s a film set,” you giggle, and he growls. “Daddy, we’re gonna be fine, no matter how many of us there are in this room,” your hand goes to rest on your stomach. 

“We’ll be fine as long as we’re together,” he confirms, looking at you. “Nervous or excited?”

“Well,” you ponder the question a moment. “I’ve wanted this for a while, so have you,” you start. “But we did say we’d wait. And I am nervous because I just bought a very pricey white dress for a kind of important day,” you wince, cheeks darkening. “That’s gonna be fun to explain to the designer. And my family. And my boss. And your publicist. And James… who just bought me pregnancy tests,” you ramble, pulse racing. 

“Baby, calm down,” Austin tries to reassure you. “”Please, love,” he begs.

“You are literally pacing with me in your arms!” you say shrilly.

“You’re carrying my baby!” he nearly shouts. The following silence is deafening and you look at each other, then burst out laughing. You cling to each other and laugh, until you stop him with a firm hand on his chest.

“Austin,” you say in a very serious tone. “I have to pee.” 

He sets you down immediately, kisses you tenderly, and runs to grab the tests. 

“Let’s go, babe, come on, hop on,” he turns around and you jump. He catches you, giving you a piggyback ride up the stairs. When you reach the top of the stairs, he gently sets you down, and leads you into the bathroom, where he hands you the boxes, sitting down on the edge of the tub.

“Are you gonna-?” you ask, and he nods.

“I’m staying right here,” he insists, and even holds the hand not holding the stick while you pee. It’s a little difficult getting both done, but you do, and Austin lays out a paper towel for you to place the sticks on. He holds you from behind while you wash your hands, and you can’t help but do the stereotypical reflection check. You turn to the side and run your hands over your stomach, trying to picture it growing and feeling a tiny person kicking inside you. 

“Trying to picture it?” he asks, his hands joining yours on your belly. You nod, blushing.

“It’s stupid,” you shake your head, trying to physically clear the thoughts from your head.

“It’s not,” he smiles and kisses you gently. “I’m picturing it too,” he confesses. “But I’m trying not to get carried away because I don’t want it to hurt worse if you’re not pregnant.”

“I know,” you agree quickly. “I get it, Daddy, I do. And if we’re being honest, we both would benefit from being able to plan this better. We can always hold off on the wedding, but if you’d like to be married if I’m going to be pregnant during the premier season, that’s fine too,” I say quickly, and he shakes his head.

“Baby, you’re not a dirty secret or a shameful mistake, you’re the love of my life and if you’re pregnant with our baby, then it’s a miracle. I agree that timing it ourselves would be best, but we won’t treat this baby like damage control, okay?” He looks at you pensively and you smile.

“Okay, Daddy, I trust you,” you sigh, leaning on him. He hugs you tight, and looks at the tests.

“Few more minutes,” he hums into your hair. “I have a question, though. No judgment, but… you took those tests really fast. I don’t want to imply there’s a special skill set involved, but you did it without looking, how did you get so…good? At doing that fast?” he asks nervously. You blush darkly, knowing what he’s getting at. 

“I didn’t learn because of you, sweet Daddy,” you assure him. “Do you think I seriously could let Dalton see when I thought I was expecting?” 

At this, Austin lifts you up, scooping you up into his arms, and cradles you close to him.

“You’re safe. You don’t ever ever have to hide, I love you so much, and I already love our baby, whenever we have one, because it’s a mix of us, and you’ll carry it, and it will grow in the gorgeous, powerful body of the woman I love more than anything. My favorite woman,” he murmurs in your ear, kissing your neck. You can’t help the tears that come to your eyes and you cling to him.

“Daddy…” you sniffle. “I love you so so much. I know I don’t have to worry about that with you. But I love that you said that. I won’t ever hide from you, okay?” you promise him. He kisses you, and his lips on yours are full of adoration and trust.

“I know. No secrets.”

You sit there, locked together for a few minutes, and then you take a deep breath. 

“Time to look,” you whisper. He holds you close and looks into your eyes.

“Love you no matter what,” he says, cupping your face.

“Love you too,” you say softly. You both look at the same time. Two negative tests sit on the counter in front of you. 

A sob tumbles from you, shaking your whole body, and Austin’s arms instantly wrap around you. 

“Come on, little one,” he hums, and you can hear tears in his eyes too. He carries you to bed and he lays you down, giving you your favorite pillow to cuddle. “I’ll be right back, Baby,” he kisses your face, and strokes your hair. He runs downstairs, grabs the ice cream and 2 spoons, and texts James.

Negative. Please clear my schedule tomorrow. She’s not good. 

He pockets his phone and runs back up to you. He lays behind you, holding your trembling body against his, and indulges himself in a moment of letting the emotions take over. He cries as he holds you close, and he opens the ice cream and turns on the tv.

“Pick a movie or a show, baby, anything you want,” he sniffles. He wants this so badly to be about you, that he just lets you take over. You put on your comfort show, and cling to him, both of you crying and feeding each other ice cream.

“I don’t know why I’m crying, it’s definitely better this way,” you sniffle, clinging tightly to him.

“We’re crying because even though it’s not the best timing right now, we do both want babies together. We want a family. It’ll just have to wait a minute,” he sniffs, kissing your hair.

“But we will have a baby,” you say quietly, taking another bite of ice cream and looking at him.

“Yes,” he nods, smiling at you and you dry each other’s tears. “I promise you, we will have a baby.”

“Thank you Daddy,” you kiss him, and he feeds you some more ice cream before closing it, putting it in the mini fridge, and getting back into bed with you.

“I’m always here for my badass little Mafia Wife,” he grins sleepily. “Lights off?” he asks, reaching for the switch. You nod and fully get on top of him.

“I don’t feel badass right now,” you whisper into his neck, and he cuddles you tight, rubbing your back.

“How about a little bedtime story?” Austin asks, kissing your hair and your face.

“How will needing a bedtime story help me feel badass?” you pout.

“This story is called ‘Ten Times The Strongest Woman In The World Protected Her Man and Saved the World’, I wrote it based on personal experience, it’s very good,” he chuckles. You can’t help but giggle.

“I love you Daddy…you can tell me a bedtime story,” you giggle. “There’s no one I’d rather go through all this with.”

“I love you too, y/n,” he kisses your hair again, inhaling your scent. “And I feel the same way about you.”

You relax in his arms while the TV plays in the background, and Austin cuddles you to sleep, telling you stories of how badass you are. By the time you close your eyes, you almost believe him. 

When you wake in the morning, conflicting emotions still swirl inside you, but you both feel stronger having weathered the storms of the day before, together. You felt stronger, and he felt the same; he told you as much, as he held you in his arms in the golden morning, the light illuminating the love you felt for one another, where you always found the peace, in the afterglow.

[yanderes-galore]

Look, I'm a sucker for these darling escapes but gets caught again scenarios. So imagine Troy's little darling betraying him and Tyreen, helping and spying for Lilith and the others in hopes of escaping them. But then when it seems like darling is finally getting away from them, Troy catches her escaping and oh my, he is furious!

Oh my....

Accidentally made this imply both Troy and Tyreen like you but, hey, bonus. Also, yet another Troy short where he just beats on Darling. Idk why it keeps happening. This is the second time now.

Siren's Fury

Yandere! Troy Calypso Short (Implied Yandere! Tyreen)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Yandere behavior, Violence, Abusive themes, Punishment, Torture, Implied poly (oops?), Obsession, Mentioned stockholm syndrome, Possessive behavior, Betrayal, Kidnapping implied, Deranged ideals, Dehumanization, Dark content, Degrading behavior.

You were never fully incorporated into the COV, still keeping loyalty towards the Crimson Raiders even after your capture. Surprisingly you still had hope for rescue. Carefully providing intel on the Calypso twins for Lilith even when being prisoner.

The Calypso twins, two siren siblings with a complete and utter god complex. The longer you were forced to be beside them in the COV the more you realized how insane they were.

You also knew at least one of them liked you, Troy. Tyreen wasn't as obsessive towards you like her brother but she also gave off signs of showing attraction to you. The two taking some sort of a liking to you was probably what made them so fixated on capturing you.

Everyday you were subjected to their torment. Forced onto live streams displayed to their followers and treated like a pet. It was as if they were trying to degrade you into submission....

Your life felt like hell. The only silver lining was the fact you found out how to secretly pass messages to others once you were liked enough. Able to tell Lilith what you knew until rescue could be given.

You thought you were being sneaky.

"You are SO damn lucky I'm not feeding you to the bandits...."

Troy's voice is low, almost a growl while he held you by the back of your neck. You struggled in his tight grip until he threw you on the ground.

"Tyreen told ME to punish you only because I begged for your sake. But don't think since I'm not Tyreen that I'll go easy on you!"

You're pinned to the ground, grunting in pain at the hard surface. Troy was brimming with rage. You guessed he knew about what you were doing.

"You think you're so clever by telling the Crimson Raiders everything? Do you really think they can stop us? It's cute, honestly. It's obvious you aren't getting away from us~"

"What makes you so sure?"

Your head is harshly pushed into the ground at your defiance. Troy was never good at containing his anger.

"Still using that tough act, huh? Being all loyal to the Crimson Raiders because you're such good friends!"

Troy's tone is mocking, leaning down to see your slightly pained face.

"WE'RE your family. Me and Tyreen are the only ones who should ever care for you. Don't you think the raiders would've come for you by now? Don't you realize we're the only ones you have now!?"

"You say nothing but lies. I will never submit to you like some Skag."

Troy scoffs, hitting you so you hiss in pain.

"I can say at least to me you're much more than a Skag. Not so much Tyreen, but she does like you. It hurts me that you'd stab me and her in the back for those heretics. Although, I guess we just need to drive home your loyalty this time! Stockholm Syndrome takes too long...."

Troy picks up your lightly battered body and grins.

"I'll tie you to this wall and REALLY work the message in. Even if it takes gashes and broken bones, I'll MAKE you love the COV! Then I'll be all you'll think of...."

Troy hoists you on the wall, strapping a clasp to your wrists. A deranged grin is on his face and he looks you in the eyes.

"If you're good... Tyreen may go easy on you the next time she comes to see you."

[ballorawan740]

SCP Scenarios: SCP 1678 (Unlondon) x Reader (REQUESTED)

Source: Photo

SCP Scenarios Masterlist | My Works Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Rules | My Original Post | Request | Socials

Requested by: @lilithisfurry

Ok, so I've done it!!! 😃

Before any of you say a thing, I know that there are 2 humanoid 1678s which are 1678-A (Bobbies/Policeman) and 1678-C (Wretch) and an avian type one (1678-B)

The one I'll be using is 1678-A (Policeman) because it takes too much time to write 3 versions of this SCP (But I might consider writing the other 2, but it's highly unlikely)

First Encounter

When you first met this humanoid, you were sent into SCP 1678 for some test

The police humanoid emitted a loud whistle as the speakers screamed ‘‘Police! Halt, criminal!’’

A couple of others who were with you attempted to shoot them with their guns but were quickly shown to be resistant

Luckily for them, they managed to plant some explosives which caused damage

The other 1678-As went in and attacked them which wasn't unusual because of their hostile nature

However, for you, one of them managed to capture you and ran

For some reason, it showed some interest towards you and warded off the other SCP 1678-As off from you

They seemed to understand that you were "marked" and left you alone

That particular 1678-A managed to get you out from harm and back to your foundation

The foundation staff did wonder what had happened and you told them everything with proof since you were wearing a bodycam

They've soon noticed that this particular policeman was softer towards you as you bandaged up its broken arm

Your feelings for him

After the incident, you were sent back down into 1678 for further research and you bumped back into the sane 1678-A

You only remembered that it was him because of its gesture and its unusual markings which distinguished him from the others

Somehow, you both were able to communicate with each other

The researchers realised that they seemed to understand human speech, mainly English, however, they seemed to understand other forms of European languages as well

Moreover, this particular Bobby also understood sign language and used it to his advantage to communicate with you, displaying some fondness for you

The researchers were reluctant to let you carry on with this test as they've noticed that you've reciprocated the same gesture

Let's just say that the researchers and the other Bobbies agreed to the fact that it was strange for you and that special policeman to be dating

His Confession

Over time, as you both became closer, he worked up the courage to sign to you that he cares a lot about you

And you've found that rather cute and returned the gesture

Which then made you both a rather unique type of couple

The other 1678-As were concerned and curious about this new relationship and so was the Foundation

The researchers had decided to borrow your newfound partner and took him to his new room (No, you've basically kidnapped him)

Needless to say, the other Bobbies were somewhat furious while others were glad that he's gone since he betrayed them for not killing you

Your new partner was somewhat homesick, so you've decided to paint some victorian style art for his cell

Date

From time to time, you both were shoved back into 1678 which just so happens to be the main place for you both to date

Some of his friends were relieved to see him and some would even offer you a hug

You obviously returned the gesture for being so flattering and because your man could finally get laid (NGL yall still be touch starved to the point you'd even date strange beings and objects)

Dates with this Bobby would be rather interesting

Like, he'd hold hands, but probably wouldn't start it during the beginning of the relationship because he's just shy (Just like everybody else here)

Since his face is all bandaged up, you wouldn't really be having many kisses

But he'll make it up with hugs instead

His fellow friends would probably enjoy bothering the both of you while you're there and would pull pranks on you both

If you both were in the foundation, you'd be chilling in his cell and talking bout your experiences in life (Not like you'd have much to say, get back to studying/work)

The researchers may poke fun of you both but would generally leave you both alone

When he gets jealous

Now, depending on who he's jealous of, he would react differently

If it was another fellow 1678-A, he would be slightly hostile and assert his dominance over the others

However, if it was a member of the foundation or anyone else that's not 1678-A for that matter, he'd be even more aggressive and would probably try and kill them

Unless you manage to stop him then it's fine

This Bobby would be slightly possessive because you're the only other person who genuinely cares about him other than his 1678 friends/family

If he sees you having a friendly chat with another person/SCP, he would wrap an arm around you just so the other person knows you're taken

I think over time he learns some boundaries so even if he is aggressive, he wouldn't just automatically send the dude you're with to hell

Unless that person is a crappy person then good for them

Yandere!1678-A

This yandere right here would literally kidnap you and take you back into 1678

He'd make sure that you would never find a way back into the foundation which does concern the researchers, so they send a group of D-classes and MTFs to find you

If he was feeling nice, he would let you wander around 1678 but he would most likely be next to or near you at all times

If he was having a bad day, he would tie you up in a random building and made sure that nobody can get in or out

Would most likely be even more hostile to everybody else around you

If you haven't behaved, he'd probs use something sharp to inflict pain on you

If you managed to behave, then he loosens the ropes around your arms, legs and neck

Probs would feed you tiny doses of 1678-D but only a bit because he's aware of how that affects the bodies of ordinary humans

Their younger sister

You and the other 1678-As would literally be families at this point or friends with the ones who are lurking away from the main area of 1678

And since you were rather new, you were treated as the younger one (That's also because you're the youngest one)

Would probably protect you from everything

You would be spoilt to death and wouldn't have to hurt a fly

One of the policemen would get you a 1678-B as your personal pet

And it's rather fond of you so it basically follows you around

Would most likely intimidate your dates if you have one

Even more so if they're a human/SCP from the Foundation

If it was another member of 1678 then they're more chill

However, if you were dating 1678-C, they'd be quite reluctant for you to be in a relationship with her but would let you anyways

When their kids say their name for the first time

Would 100% be crying internally and shocked

Like, it happened out of the blue since you both were just relaxing

Word would spread across the whole of 1678 because of this

And not because you both were a unique pairing in the first place

1678-A would try to teach your child some sign language in contrast to you who would teach them to communicate verbally

Most likely try and teach the kid to defend themselves and probably attack others

But you wouldn't let him because they were too young (Just like you lot!!! Shouldn't y'all be studying in primary or high/secondary schools?)

The other 1678s would literally yeet their way to meet the kid just so they can teach your child to say more words

And to swear of course

When his S/O is angry

Oh dear

If the foundation doesn't know any better, they'd just assume that all the Bobbies were the aggressive ones

And oh boy were they wrong

You were the one who needs a chill pill

Basically, some guy tried to hit on you and wouldn't stop

So you just casually gave him a taste in his own medicine

Which were a punch in the face and a kick in the nuts (Kids, don't do this to a guy unless he really deserves it)

He somehow got back up and carried on harassing you

Your man was just strolling around the park until he saw the commotion

He had to literally hold you back and made the guy run for his life

Which was a shocker since it's usually the other way around

And of course, everybody inside 1678 heard about the news and cheered on for you while others just ran since they didn't wanna have the first-hand experience with your anger issue

When someone tries to steal you away

Oh this man right here would gather all his police friends as well as the birds to hunt down whoever stole you away

He would be furious to the core and rightfully so

The foundation was informed of this and they didn't blame this SCP

And that's because the person who stole you was from the Chaos Insurgency

Both GOIs hated each other's guts so the foundation just kinda let 1678-A hunt down the guy

And he did along with the MTFs

But was met with you standing over the guy's dead body

Then everybody realised that your man taught you how to protect yourself

And you did it so perfectly that even 1678 was intimidated af

Nobody wanted to mess with you and your partner was relieved that he taught you self defence

When his pregnant!S/O gets hurt by accident

This particular 1678-A that just so happens to be your partner, is rather shy and introverted

Nad although he does his 'job' well, he would rather just stay away from any contact

Until he met you and you became pregnant

This 1678-A would be slightly more protective but would let you have some space

And because of this, you managed to give yourself a papercut

Which was met with a furious policeman

But was cooled down when you explained your injury to him

He was giving you a huge lecture about your safety and how not to get hurt because you're carrying his baby

Wouldn't leave you alone ever again

Even if that means he would have to sit by the corner at all times

Would send his mates to come over to check on you if he wasn't there

Meeting a dragon hybrid child fem!reader

Definitely would be curious about you since they mostly interact with Foundation staffs

Probably would try to attack you but instead got burnt

1678-A would definitely notice your strange appearance and that you cry lava

Would feel bad so he'd try and comfort you

This then leads to you both being rather attached to each other

This particular 1678-A would have to bribe the others to keep you

The foundation realising this would happen

Probably would let you stay there for research purposes

They would most likely help level up your telekineses

Treats you like their own child and would be extremely protective

Most likely would have a heart attack every time you show kindness towards foundation members instead of attacking them

Every time you're in danger, the ones attacking you would soon realise that they've screwed up

Because the SCPs can hear you cry which would summon a whole bunch of them

When he accidentally kills you

He was basically chilling with you until some MTF members arrived to take some samples for testing

They were attacked by the other 1678-As and retaliated

This chill guy would lead you to safety before attacking the remaining MTFs

You realising what has happened decided to try and help out

You noticed that one of the MTF members were about to shoot your guy and managed to throw the gun out of his hand

1678-A notices and tries to attack the member but instead killed you

The remaining MTF members flee as he mourns your death

He would be even more vengeful and aggressive to the foundation members

Which does scare off the other Bobbies

Stayed in one of the abandoned houses to cry alone

Yandere!1678 - A x Evil!Reader

I'd say aside from his yandere self and the fact that he's only more aggressive to everyone else aside from you and giving you some scars, he's pretty dense and thicc in the brain

Probably wouldn't notice that you were working on them for a project in the GOC

You were able to get away with a lot of things because of your small stature and innocent appearance

Definitely managed to fool this yandere!1678-A because of your appearance

You could be just as vicious when you want to be

Yandere!1678-A soon realises that you were just using him for some experiment and were angered to the point of no return

Would most likely try and hunt you down

But since you've already got enough information about this SCP, you were able to devise a plan to leave

Manages to catch up to you but you were fortunate enough to know enough self-defence tactics to ward him off

You never came back to him and he was depressed for all of eternity

Trying McDonald's Sprite

You were requested to bring some ordinary food to 1678 as a test

And you've decided that you wanted to bring some Sprite with some Apple pie, mozzarella dippers and pancakes (They're my soul food from Mackies ok? Don't judge)

When you arrived in 1678, that one particular policeman who is attached to you for some odd reason was curious about the food

Of course, he would need to take off the bandage on his head to taste the food but not before some bribery from you

He reminisced about the food since he loved eating them before he turned into 1678-A

Sprite, however, was slightly different

He never tried them and was surprised with how good they tasted

Most likely would ask you to get more for him though

Foundation staff would be rather conflicted but allowed you to reward him with Sprite and some food

Only whenever he behaved well though

When his kid swears at him

You should've seen the look on his face (oh the irony)

You both taught your kid verbal and non-verbal communications with some common sentences people would say

But never have either of you taught your kid how to swear

Kinda just happened and 1678-A was about to go into cardiac arrest (Pun intended)

Would hunt down whoever taught them that depending on the severity

Like if the kid was using a ton of swearing in a sentence and was directing it to either of you, 1678-A would kill the guy

You were more of a chill type of parent

But would recommend the kid to stop swearing sine it's rude

Most likely wound ground the kind for a week tbh

When the reader scares him (Child!Reader)

Well, let's just say you managed to make the policeman play hide and seek with you

And you were the one hiding since you secretly knew that you were a professional at it

So you made 1678-A to find you

And although he's pretty good at catching his victims, he couldn't find you (Cuz y'all be so short)

Like he was literally in front of you and he still couldn't see you and you even giggled

So you've decided to jump on him

And oh boy was he about to scream out for help

But luckily he didn't cuz the others would whoop yo ass

Probably wouldn't give you a lecture but would need a while for his precious heart to not go yeetus the fetus

He would probably yeet you though tbf

When the reader pole dances/aerial silk dance

1678-A probably would have some ideas on what pole dancing is

Maybe not as much with the term aerial silk dancing but would soon understand when he sees you dancing

Probably thinks that you're trying to fondue with him if you're pole dancing

Definitely would be in awe when he sees you dance with the aerial silks

Would have a difficult time mimicking you if he ever wants you to teach him

Has definitely fallen 1000 times while pole dancing and broke his arms while dancing 10 ft off the ground

If the others inside 1678 see you dancing, he'd be in a blushing mess, especially if you were dancing to certain kinds of songs

Would most likely tell you to dance for him privately so there's no peeking

Having a Pregnant!S/O

Would most definitely be on the guard more since you're carrying his child

1678-A would most likely follow you around like a well trained and clingy German Shepard

You'd most likely have to tell him to tone it down because you're pregnant, not some delicate flower

Would most likely do whatever you tell him to do, even if it means hurting himself as long as you're safe and sound

Definitely would make sure that another 1678 would be around you at all times when he's away from you

1678-A would occasionally rub your stomach and sing victorian era songs

Sometimes he would bring you some of your favourite foods

When you try to commit suicide

When he hears the news he was devastated

He literally ran 69 miles just to see you

Would give you a big boi lecture about doing that

Nearly had his heart jump out of his body

Would constantly follow you everywhere after this

He's basically your bodyguard at this point

Would bandage up your wounds

Makes sure that you're fed well and all and would give you random gifts out of the blue

Would most likely ask the other Bobbies to care for you if he's not there and would even give you 1678-B

Asks the Wretches to keep a lookout to make sure nobody hurts you

Having a hopelessly romantic/easily flustered GN!Reader

This particular Bobby would most likely be just as easily flustered and hopelessly romantic as you

I'd imagine him trying to make the first move and you both being in a blushing mess

You both would exchange little gifts every now and again

Everyone else just teases and ships you both

You both loving each other unconditionally and constantly worrying about each other when you're both away from each other

This Bobby would definitely protect you from the MTFs and/or D-classes from attacking you

You would make a deal with the foundation to keep your guy safe and sound

The foundation witnessing how lovey-dovey you both are and just dies of cringe and sweetness overload (but not as sweet as out 999)

[tokoyamisstuff]

Scandal Ch. 1 - Loki x Reader

Summary: After your child is born a Frost Giant, your husband accuses you of infidelitiy, unaware about his own heritage...

Warnings: Pregnancy, Childbirth, Angst, Mild Cussing

Noteable: Takes place before Thor 1, Asgardian Fem! Reader

Words: ~1800

I Story Masterlist I General Masterlist I

It was as if your anchestors wanted to deliver a warning, for Asgard had never faced a storm matching this fateful afternoon.

The thunder swallowed all of your screams and cries, every curse you spoke with each contraction as the baby made it’s way into this world. All this time, your precious husband would never leave your side, letting you squeeze his hand as much as you needed.

“Only a little bit more, my Lady!” the midwife shoutet from between your legs, her tone calm yet cheerful. “I can already see the head!”

“I’m right here. You’re doing wonderful, my petal.” Loki was softly petting your hair, pressing a wet kiss into your forehead. “You are incredibly strong, Y/N. And I love you so much!”

Remaining collected was using up all of his energy at that very moment, you knew that much. Yet not even the God of Lies could hide all the helplessness and excitement stirring in his head at that very moment.

Being with the Prince of Asgard was just like in a dream.

Once you get to know him, that troublesome arrogant lone wolf turned into a smart, caring - and especially charming - prince. And hel, Loki treated you like a Queen.

All this pain you were experiencing right now would ultimately lead to the greatest bliss imagineable - just like it was with Loki.

Oh, how dearly you had fought, suffered, yearned for him, only to be rewarded with heartbreak and frustration. In between his feverishly chase for the throne and his rivalry with Thor, there was just no room for a loving relationship to grow.

The crushing weight of thinking himself unworthy for affection had made him cold and bitter over the millenias, telling himself the comforting lie that he was above all, born for a glorious purpose.

For the God of Mischief, whose kinsmen had always made him feel out of place or under-appreciated, the process of trusting had always been one step forward, three steps back.

But through your compassion, and with a great deal of patience and understanding, you slowly but steadily melted the ice around the prince’s heart.

Because deep inside, you always knew that it was worth it.

And today would be the peak of your romance: Your child would forever remind the Odinson that he belonged somewhere - right here, with you.

“It’s a boy!”

“A heir?!” Loki exclaimed, smothering your face in kisses. “Well done!”

You smiled weakly at his excitement, in between choked sobs. All that your exhausted self was able to process was the fact that your child is born - and you already loved him beyond reason.

“Where is he?!” you whimpered, unable to realize how the air in the room had shifted - for when the midwife touched the infant, she began to scream in agony.

“What’s wrong?!” Loki’s eyes were narrowing at the midwife that almost dropped his newborn, detecting some sort of burn wound on her palm. Quickly, she had covered the boy in a towel, aware that if any harm came over that baby, she was to die at the God of Mischief’s hands.

A flash of lightning was brightening the whole room, which had only been flooded by dim candle light until now.

Another one of the midwife’s screeched in terror, almost stumbling as she frantically erscaped your bedchamber. The adrenaline from birth and worry about your child sharpened your senses, yet concentration was almost impossible.

Still, the words she was yelling as she ran down the hall send a shiver down your spine:

“It’s a monster.”

Your head was spinning as you rushed into an upright position, with two nurses pressing you onto the bed again. “Milady, you need to rest! It’s still too early!”

“What is wrong with my child?!?” you desperately screamed, kicking with your legs to free yourself from their hold. “Give it to me!”

Their expressions were too much to bear. Your head was spinning, seeing pity mixing up with disgust and anger in their eyes.

“Enough!” Loki finally broke his own silence, his mind having been occupied with all the horror scenarios one could think about.

Walking up to the midwife carrying the infant, he demanded seeing it. “Your highness, don’t-” yet the midwife’s beg was for naught.

Yes, everything will be alright. Loki will take care of it, like he always does. After all, he’s your savior, your hero, the love of your life...

Gently and insecure, your husband cradled the newborn in his arms - a sight to behold. And the baby’s strong cries assured you that it was at least alive.

However, as soon as he dared to unwrap the towel, revealing it’s face, Loki’s heartbeat completely stopped for a second. His trembling lip began to shake, mouth widely agape as he took in the child’s form.

For a brief moment, his mind was completely blank. All emotion dropped from his face before taking in a complete different demeanour.

“Wha-” you wouldn’t dare ending that sentence when your husband’s furious eyes met yours.

The air was so thick, you thought not even Thor’s hammer could break it. Clearly ritten on Loki’s usual unreadable face were so many emotions at once:

Aversion, fury, incredible sorrow...all directed towards you? The child?

Impossible.

Loki Odinson loved you more than anything in this world, this was the only thing you had always been sure he wasn’t lying about.

“From all the people I expected to betray me...” His voice was hoarse, as if the ache in his heart was wrapping around his throat. “Why did it have to be you?”

You could feel the horrendous aura, a wave of sadness and despair coming from your husband. Seeing him like this was like torture.

“What- what do you mean, darling-”

“Don’t fucking call me that, you harlot!” That was surely not the first time your lover had raised your voice against you - he could be a bit difficult at times, obviously.

But this time was different somehow. It sounded so...ultimate.

And the Loki you knew would never use such harsh words against you!

“Please, I beg of you...just let me see my baby!” Everything was just too much for you, almost to the point of passing out. 

And the man did as you pleaded, almost shoving the child into your arms. “There, have your bastard! And make sure to never show your filthy faces to me ever again!”

With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving you with those strange nurses looking at you like you’ve just commited an unforgiveable crime.

There was no use in overthinking this. He’ll come back like he always did. You can work this out, whatever it is - even if you are gonna be mad for a very long time, making such a fuss and then disappearing instead of taking care of you, the mother of his child.

Out of a whim, you decided to finally observe the little being you’ve been waiting for all those months.

A loud gasp escaped your mouth as you realized just why everyone was so worked up about that little boy. Yet the sound you made was solely surprised - not a hint of fear or rejection laced your voice.

It was a beautiful baby boy, little fists balled to the air as if he was searching for the warmth of his parents - though his skin was in the shade of a dark blue. When you dared running your hand over the deep lines and ridges on his body, the stinging pain of frostbite immediately stung your fingertips. His eyes snapped open, looking at you with black irises through red scleras.

You knew the meaning of this, even though you didn’t understand how this was possible: This child was a biological Frost Giant. A small one, but nonetheless.

A curse? Was someone trying to play your family dirty? No. If that was the case, the child wouldn’t also have actual powers together with the appearance.

Just how long have those tears been running down your cheeks in thick streams already? You wouldn’t know.

Only one thing came as clear as daylight to you: You loved this baby, more than anything in this world. And no matter the hardships that came along with it - you would protect him, no matter what!

“He’s magnificent...” you sniffled, pecking some quick kisses onto his small body before the cold could hurt you. “I love you so, so much...!”

Not minding the judging looks of the nurses, let alone wondering about the consequences, resolve was starting to give you new strenght.

The boy got a grasp on your finger, and instead of your skin freezing off as expected, your magic allowed him to the boy to finally disguise itself as one of you. How was this even possible? Well, this is probably the first time something like this ever happened, so no one could prepare you for what to expect with this child.

They all say that birth was an impactful event - but nothing could’ve prepared you for everything that you had to endure on this day.

Yet nothing could’ve stopped you from believing that this child was the greatest blessing that ever came over you.

Now you only had to convince your husband of that very fact...

“Y/N Y/L/N!” the guard wouldn’t even bother adressing you with your full title as his harsh voice woke you up. When had you drifted away into slumber anyway? You were probably way more worn out than you wanted to admit...

Your eyes immediately snapped open, heart skipping a beat until you saw that your son was still sleeping soundly right next to you. Stroking his cheek as he smiled up to you, it almost made you forget about that burdensome situation.

“Hey!” Protectingly, you were holding onto your child for dear life as the guard approached both of you. “I have an important message to deliver!”

You scowled, almost like an animal mother protecting their offsprings with baring teeth, even though you knew in that state you would be completely and utterly helpless. “Why now? What could be more important than the well-being of my child?”

The answer let your blood run cold:

“I am here to announce that Lady Y/N Y/L/N has to face a trial in front of the Allfather. The following crimes she is being accused of: Infidelity, collaboration with the enemy and trying to sneak one of them into our glorious kingdom.”

[buckyownsmylife]

Heartbeat Slowing Down - Mob!Logan Howlett smut

The one where Logan is a mobster and you need to be reminded that you belong to him.

Warnings: smut, noncon, gun play, crying during sex. Don’t read it if it’s not your thing, I don’t have any kinks over people complaining about their own choices.

Word count: 1k>

A/N: I thought about the great Wolverine as a mobster and now I can’t get the idea out of my mind. I need to thank @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ for giving this a read and helping me perfect it, and also for granting me the Triple Hoe Stamp of aproval!

Logan’s P.O.V.

“Logan, c’mon,” she insisted, eyes pleading as she did her best to convince me of the impossible while I remained patiently seated in my usual chair, nursing my scotch. “You know it’s for the best. You know this is the best option. For the both of us.”

If I was someone else - a different man, perhaps - I would have probably laughed at the underlying innocence behind her statement - the childishness of her entire being at that moment, really. It was almost sweet, the way she truly believed it was for the best if we went our separate ways. Her ability to ignore everything she already knew about me - when she knew more than most - never ceased to amaze me. Yet right then, it only made me furious.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” She questioned, sounding almost irritated when I got up from the chair and turned my back to her, refreshing my drink instead of behaving the way she wanted me to. It made me smirk, and that’s what she saw when I turned around to stare at her again, raising my glass to my lips as I ran my eyes over her body.

Just looking at her made me hard as a rock, even after everything I’d done to her little cunt. It was ridiculous that she could believe I would ever simply let her go. And the fact that she got mad at my lack of fight for her made it pretty obvious that some part of her recognized her place was with me, despite the doubts that led her here that evening.

“What do you want me to say?” I asked, watching the defensive stance leave her immediately, the cold tone in my voice betraying my mood. “You know how I feel about this, I know what you think. Let’s negotiate.”

I closed the distance between us with purpose, taking sick pleasure in watching her shiver under my gaze, tremble at how small she looked before me when I curled my hand over her nape.

“Let me give you a reason to stay.” It was barely even a whisper, breathed out against her face as she felt the cold metal of my trusted gun brush against her thigh. “Remember this?” I knew she’d take it as a taunt or a threat, maybe it was both. All I knew was that the last time I’d spread her open around the barrel of my pistol, she screamed louder than I’d ever heard her scream, and I wanted her to make my ears ring.

At the intrusion of the device between her legs, she jolted - an automatic reflex that I never thought to erase because it amused me too much. “There, there…” I meanly chuckled, tapping the back of her head as I pulled her to rest her temple on my shoulder. “You know better than to fight this.”

And so she stood perfectly still, hands clutching my shirt, muscles paralyzed as I slowly coated the metal with her wetness. I knew it was there. I knew her far too much by now, and it was precisely because of it that I was so unwilling to let her go.

Rubbing the gun against her drenched lower lips, I toyed with her expectations until she couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re a sick bastard,” she spewed, and I could see the hate in her eyes, just as much as I could see the desire.

“And that’s what makes you cream around my dick, my love,” I reminded. The second that the barrel penetrated her, it was like her entire body was electrified, jerking to stand on her tiptoes before she was finally able to relax around it. “You know you love it,” I taunted, tempting her to voice her disagreement, resist my advances. “You know you love me, love this.”

Tears rose up in her eyes, much to my delight. I loved when I could bring her here, the edge between physical pleasure and emotional pain - the same she inflicted in me every time she tried to leave. 

Our lives were too entwined now, she knew this. It was nothing but a play she liked to reenact every time the reality of my life scared her, but she knew - I’d never let her go. She would never be able to get rid of me, so it was stupid to even try.

“You can’t just distract me with sex!” She screamed when her first orgasm reached her, and I cooed at the tears that rolled down her cheeks, kissing them away while I kept up the pace, making sure to bruise her cervix, ruin her sweet spot.

I wanted to keep her crying for days.

“It worked on you before.” The memory made her pout, head petulantly turning away from me as if that was the only way she could show me her rebellion. It was truly adorable. “Don’t you remember? The way you screamed when I fucked you until you passed out, the first time you decided to leave?”

Forcing her to look at me again, I continued, baring my heart to her once more - only to her, forevermore. “I was certain that it would be the only time. You’re a smart kid, you wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Yet here you are…”

I smothered her second orgasm with a kiss, a short one, just enough to make her lose her breath, just enough to taste her tears on my lips. “I-I’m not some… thing you can just marry and keep impregnating for the rest of your life. That’s not what I want for me. I don’t want my kids growing up in a life like this.”

The thought of any alternate reality where her kids wouldn’t be mine sparked the anger already burning and completely blinded me. My palm covered half her face when I grabbed it, making her lips pucker as I buried my digits in the soft flesh of her cheeks.

“I want you to understand this very clearly,” I warned. “No one else is going to touch you. Ever. This pussy, your soul is mine. And I pity the sorry bastard who even tries to take it from me.”

She writhed in my arms, trying to get away while simultaneously fucking herself against the gun I held inside of her, but I remained unaffected by it all. “I’m never going to wake up without you beside me. Got it?” My answer was a scream, the juices of her release coating my wrist before dripping onto the floor.

I silenced her again with another kiss, this time to the top of her head, at last pulling the pistol from her. “I may be a patient man when it comes to you… but just the thought of anyone else ever parting your thighs will make me forget any morals you’ve taught me. Don’t you forget that.”

And as I watched her struggle to leave my office with trembling legs, her wetness running down her legs, I couldn’t help but tease, “You’re so silly for thinking I would ever live without this.”

[lyallblacklupin]

My other half.

Sirius is very upset because his other half, James Potter, has been taken away from him. The James who used to hold Sirius after a nightmare has Lily Evans in his arms one particular night, which angers Sirius a lot. He thinks that he has lost his friend. Little does he know, there is a certain perfect Marauder who understands him more than he understands himself.

“And then what I got to see was Evans! You just don’t care about your best friend anymore because of her!”

“Sirius, I can’t take care of you all the time! And I want you to be supportive here, be my best frien—“

“Whoa, whoa, what do you mean by ‘I can’t take care of you all the time’?” Sirius almost yelled at James, his chest heaving violently. James sighed and rubbed his temples.

“Pads, how many times I have to tell that Lily is now my girlfriend—“

“And what about me!?” Sirius knew that this was an unhealthy act of friendship and that was: Possessiveness. But he wanted to get this unsettling agitation off his chest that had been clinging him since the last night he had found Lily Evans buried in James’ embrace. Sirius had never felt so furious, and betrayed in his life. He wanted to lash out on his best friend, who was just like a brother to him. A non-biological brother who’d always been there for Sirius when his blood family sent him a shitty letters, and reassured him that he was not alone because the Potters were his family now, the same brother who’d been there to hold him when he had nightmares so he’d tuck him in his embrace and he could sleep a dreamless slumber till dawn, and then he’d go to his own bed. However, last night had been an exception, because the two brothers had an intervention after almost six years of inseparability, in the name of Lily Evans who had just started coming and going in their dorm, and Sirius felt like his privacy was assaulted.

“Sirius, don’t make this hard, please…” James flopped down on his bed, holding his head in his hands. Sirius hated that look because it reflected the exhaustion he was feeling, and it felt like a verification for Sirius that James was done taking care of him. Sirius knew that James had been taking extra care of him since they were eleven that even Remus and Peter had been annoyed and hated him for favoring Sirius more than he needed. Sirius didn’t want to feel like a child when he was a hopeless sixteen who didn’t have a girlfriend or anyone of his roommates to take constant of care of him. He knew that he was unfair with James. He knew that how much James wanted to date Lily Evans, and he also knew that he was being a pathetic friend and a mean brother to him for ruining his happiness by fighting him.

“Sirius?” James asked softly when Sirius was gazing hard on the floor, his mind in the trance of endless thoughts, and they just spiked up the guilt inside him.

But there was just this unnamed emotion of bitterness sitting at the top of his chest that denied him from acknowledging all of those facts about James Potter.

“It was the first nightmare I had without having you with me.” He blurted out, not looking at James at all. He believed that there was no one in the dorm except the two of them because if there were, he’d have been hearing gagging or huffing noises from the rest of the two marauders.

“Pads, I know. But what do you want me to do?” James’ voice sounded helpless.

“Nothing…absolutely nothing.” And with that, Sirius turned around to walk out of the dorm. He was reaching for the doorknob when his eyes side-caught Remus Lupin sitting on his bed, who had witnessed the entire conversation between them. Sirius thought his heart had stopped beating for a second. He fought back the embarrassment and scurried out of the room in a flash, hoping Remus hadn’t seen his flushed face.

Sirius spent his whole day with the rest of the Marauders, because James and Lily had gone to lake, hand in hand, together. He knew that James was giving him space. Peter was serving detention, so technically, Sirius got to hang out with the only Marauder and that was Remus Lupin.

Both of them were sitting under the tree. It had been an hour since they had been relishing the double free periods, and none of them had spoken a single word. Remus had a reason to stay quiet because he was reading a book of poetry, while Sirius was playing with the thorns of the grass, plucking and brushing them. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a reason to stay silent but because it was a ridiculous one that his best friend had finally gone out with the girl of his dreams, and he is being an absolute prat about it. Yeah, great one, Sirius! He internally mocks himself.

“Padfoot?”

Sirius praised himself that he didn’t yelp because he had almost believed that he was alone until Remus called him out.

“Moony?”

“You okay?” Remus’ amber eyes bored into him. Sirius had to look away for a bit. Remus Lupin was another story in his already chaotic life. In short, he was a mystery, even after he had revealed himself as a werewolf, who had a dying mother, and was miserably poor. Yet still, he was like a treasure residing in the depths of an island, and it never failed to tempt Sirius.

“Yeah, why?” He cleared his throat, but Remus was still gazing him.

“You are sulking.” Sirius could feel the smirk on his face without having to look.

“No, I am not.”

“I can tell.” He sighed, and Sirius thought he was done asking, and must have gone back to his book but he continued, “Your head is dangling low, your eyes are blinking a little too much, and your hands…well they don’t take a break from causing a wreckage like you are doing right now…”

Sirius looked down and saw that a palm-sized patch was created on the ground because of the plucking of grass. He looked back at Remus whose eyes were smiling more than his mouth.

“Congratulations, you just won the house cup for studying Sirius Black’ sulking postures.” Sirius said with a deadpanned face, and Remus laughed amusingly, putting away his book. It was a precious thing he did, because Remus rarely put his book away for anyone. Maybe Sirius was not just anyone for him.

They spent the afternoon talking and laughing, and Sirius felt warm and blissful to realize how much he enjoyed Remus’ company. He really underestimated him, and it made him feel all blue. He was gone back to sulking when James and Lily arrived for the dinner, while Remus was gone back to sit with Peter as usual.

The midnight was emerged upon Sirius as he had woken up from another nightmare. His vision was blurry, and he sat up on his bed. He was shivering and the covers were not helping him because he could feel the perspiration on his back and arms. James was sleeping alone because his curtains were not drawn shut, and Sirius was craving the human warmth but he wasn’t feeling right to go to him after their argument. He gathered his knees and pulled them close to his chest. He felt like crying because now he was recognizing that agonizing emotion inside him, and that was: Loneliness.

The reason he never had a proper relationship with a girl was because he never wanted to have a girl in his life. He had thought that his roommates were his only family, and they were the only ones he wanted to be with for the rest of his life. He loved them so much. He let his tears fall, and slipped into his cover again anyway, curled up in a ball. He knew that sleep was nowhere near him.

Just when he thought he could change into Padfoot, he heard the rustling sound of curtains. He felt alerted and, in all honesty, scared. He knew that his mind was deceiving him. They were just the aftershocks of the nightmares, but then he felt footsteps approaching. He squeezed his night shut. And then—

“Sirius?” It was not James.

“Moony?” Sirius turned around to find Remus standing in his pajamas. His hair were sticking out in every directions.

“Can I sleep with you?” His voice was hoarse, and he looked uncomfortable.

“Of course, you can. Hey, you okay?” Sirius scooted to make some space for him.

“Nightmares.” He replied, and it instantly broke Sirius’ heart.

They both laid together with a respectful distance, facing each other. Sirius could hear Remus’ teeth chattering. The half-moon’s light was landing on Remus, and Sirius could see his knuckles turning white as he fisted the blanket close to his chest. His eyes were screwed shut. Sirius was able feel every move of his body. He placed a hand on Remus’ cheek, and those amber eyes snapped open. Sirius decided that it was definitely the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Remus smiled weakly at him. He was reaching to hold Sirius’ wrist of that same hand before Sirius grabbed his shoulders, and shoved him in his embrace.

He thought Remus would protest. Instead, he melted. He buried his face in the crook of his neck, wrapping his own hands around Sirius’ waist, pulling him impossibly closer, while Sirius did the same by enveloping his torso by his own arms.

“I’m here for you, Pads.” Remus whispered in his skin, and it made Sirius smile.

“I’m here for you, too, Moony.”

Both of them fitted perfectly into each other’s bodies. After when they were relaxed in their positions, Sirius looked down to see the Remus sound asleep, a contenting smile tugging his lips, and suddenly that emotion of loneliness inside Sirius dissipated like it never existed.

[supremeinlilac]

Into the light (I'll hold you)

Pairing: Coven!Cordelia Goode x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Slow dancing in the greenhouse.

Word Count: 2557

Warnings: Self doubt, angst.

A/n: Canon divergent, H*nk doesn't exist and Delia's acid attack never happened, although she has still had the Sight previously. Was saving this fic but fuck it, I'm posting it now😌

Halloween.

The night of eerie suspense and the lingering sense of being watched. You enjoyed the days festivities when you were younger, skipping excitedly door to door under a white sheet with your friends.

This Halloween would be your second at Miss Robichaux’s, the first you’d all gone out to a party and got a little too drunk, returning to an irritated Ms Goode. It had been the first time you’d kissed her, and she’d rejected you because of the state you’d been in.

Still, it was the night that had started the path of your relationship with the headmistress.

You loved Halloween.

This year, Fiona Goode, reigning Supreme, returned to the academy. You were instantly weary of her, due to the fact Delia never liked to bring her mother up in conversation of her past. When you’d overheard her telling your girlfriend that she was wasted potential in the school, a prickle of icy anger called the hair at the nape of your neck to stand rigid.

You and the rest of the witches had decided to stay in, watch films and play games. It wasn’t often that everyone could get together to celebrate an evening where witches were celebrated, so they wanted to make the most of the friendly atmosphere that surrounded them. It never lasted long in the coven.

Fiona went out to a bar, her witches hat crooked atop her head and you found yourself glaring at her as she left. The woman alit a flame inside you, one that easily spread and engulfed your powers, fire licking hotly at the tips of your fingers and threatened to overpower you.

Cordelia had stayed behind with you, much to her mother protest, to have a quiet night while the rest of the hubbub would be concentrated in the living room. You were both wrong to think that there’d be no disturbances.

The shattering of glass fractured the silence in your shared room with Cordelia. She’d been braiding your hair, an intimacy that the pair of you rarely found time to do together. She hummed the song you were sung as a child, a habit that she’d picked up in your time at the coven, the action now second nature. It no longer only served to soothe you, but now it brought her comfort too.

Her fingers stilled in your hair, head snapping to the door. You heard a couple of loud thuds and shouts, and then her hand was clutching yours protectively.

“Hey Cordelia?” You heard Queenie shout up the stairs, “you best look outside.”

She was off the bed like it had burned her, drawing the curtains back to show the slow advance of the people outside. You heard her shaky inhale, before she fisted her hands in her trousers and turned to you.

“It’s just the locals. Playing tricks on us, you know how Madison likes to irritate them the rest of the year. Lord knows we’re not the best neighbours,” her face looked serious but the waver in her voice betrayed her. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than you.

It had been a blur after that, shouting and running, and Cordelia slipped out of your grasp. You’d been fighting, had a kitchen knife pressed into your hand by, Zoe, maybe? No. It had been one of the other girls.

They wouldn’t die, those zombies, if that’s even what they were. You’d slashed at a part of them that they shouldn’t have been able to get back up from. Yet it did, limbs flailing and reaching spindly towards you.

Knocked to the ground, you think you must have passed out. But not before you’d seen Cordelia trying to defend the house, eyes furious and scared and dark.

You remembered the purr of the chainsaw, the splatter of blood. The silence that hung after.

The next day you found Cordelia sat at her usual bench in the greenhouse, frows furrowed in concentration as she mixed ingredients with the gentle crack of test tubes and vials. You could see the anguish behind hooded eyes, it was clear that she’d been restless last night, down here long past when everyone else slept.

You had seen her from your window as you’d been drawing the curtains the night before, standing over the pile of haphazardly thrown bodies of the zombies. You weren’t sure how long she’d spent there, not wanting to disturb her until now.

She’d also been absent at both breakfast and dinner, with the excuse of paperwork, but you could see through the thinly veiled lie. You brought her a sandwich and a yogurt, setting them down on a bench before pulling a chair up beside her to watch her work.

Cordelia could mix potions and restore plants without thinking, her craft a lovingly perfected dance in which he moved around the greenhouse with practised ease, plucking vials off the shelves and balancing glassware in steady hands.

Her hands shook. Slightly, almost unnoticeable was the small tremor but it indicated her unease. There was blood still crusted under her fingernails.

You softly coaxed her to put the glass down with fingers around her wrists, guiding her to look at you before lazily lacing your fingers together. She whispered a greeting with a small smile, almost as if she hadn’t registered your presence until you’d touched her.

“I feel like I failed everyone. My girls.” Her voice cracked languidly, eyes falling to where your hands joined on her lap, her nails scraping at your skin nervously. “How can I be headmistress when I cannot protect you all?”

“It’s not your job to do it all alone.” You reminded her gently, thumb brushing over whitened knuckles, following the dip and contour of her skin. “Cordelia.”

A single droplet of shimmering water does not sink a ship. A single cloud cannot shield the sun. A single parent could spend years doubting their worth, unaware that it takes a village to raise a child.

No single person can bear the weight of the world’s troubles without crumbling.

Not even Cordelia, whom you thought could harness the sun if she willed it, could do everything herself. It simply was an unrealistic expectation that her mother had used to weigh her down with.

“Look at me, baby. You are not alone, okay?”

When her head lifted slowly, the light caught the water in her eyelashes, diamond tears shimmering and rolling down the curve of reddened cheeks. You were quick to coo at her, hand coming to cradle her face so you could lean to kiss them away, salt on your tongue.

She shook her head, refusing to look at you and you felt hopeless, like a bystander on the site of an accident. As much as you tried to couldn’t get close enough to her to help, to comfort her as she needed. Running in a dream, tripping over a mere breath and wading through syrup as you tried to escape.

“I’m a failure.”

You found yourself shaking your head, the phantom of a protest falling from your lips, how could Cordelia think that.

“Everything that Fiona says is true.” She continued, head falling into her arms on the desk. Your hand rested on her back, a gentle reminder of the comfort you could give her if only she asked for it. If only she would accept it when you would give it to her anyway.

“I don’t belong here.” Whispered from under her hair which hid her.

Cordelia didn’t realise her own worth, and you wondered if anyone ever truly does.

Does the night sky know its beauty? Or does it envy the blue of the day? Does it wait for the sun to kiss its head and grant it eternity. The night sky is rich with light, if it would only look deep enough within itself to find it. Burning stars and planets reflecting the sun, a kaleidoscope of colour on an ebony canvas.

Cordelia would often look at pictures of her absent mother when she believed to be alone. She was secretly envious of Fiona’s effortless graceful command and hold that she had over the whole coven. She believed her own magical abilities to be inferior to that of the Supreme’s, but it was an unfair comparison, for a Supreme would always persist.

She thought that it meant hers weren’t strong enough, scared for eventualities like the previous night, that she would fail at the role of protector. But she hadn’t failed, she’d fought just like you and Zoe, and it was just the luck of the draw that Zoe’s fear would trigger her Power Negation.

But Cordelia held such raw natural, burning potential that you’d habitually find yourself staring as she practised spells. Eyes following the deft flow of her fingers as she’d manipulate movement. She’d had the second sight within her, so at least on a subconscious level she must know her power.

“You belong here. And look around you, look at this place. Yourgreenhouse.”

“You made it into what it’s become. It’s you.” You spoke, letting yourself spin to appreciate all the work she’d put into this place, into herself.

Cordelia lifted her head, hair falling from her eyes and crowning her face as she followed your gaze to the hanging planters, the glass vials. To the floor that she’d swept only days ago, leaves starting to litter the stone again.

She watched you run fingertips over the exposed brick on the wall, your attention solely on her work around you. She could see the adoration in the iris’ of your eyes, alight with your honesty. You gaze returning, always, to her as you walked to her.

Tentatively, you reached out for her. Was she yet ready to accept your help, your love as you wanted to give it to her?

Still unsure, Cordelia shied away from your comforting touch, head returning to her hands.

“You don’t have to live behind Fiona’s words anymore.” You whispered into her temple, as if straight into her mind.

Sometimes it is easier to live in the shadows than to confront those who cast them.

She’d spent her whole life cowering in Fiona’s shadow, growth and development stunted from the lack of light. Self-belief fractured into a gaping crack.

She’d been trapped, dark and alone with a mother figure who didn’t love her in a way she understood how to be loved. They both loved each other then, and ove each other now, but sometimes mere love isn’t enough. It isn’t consistent enough to be safe. You can love someone and still hurt them.

You had spent time working on her confidence, creeping back into the light and into herself again. Breaking down the thoughts that had grown to immobile threatening walls that only served to block the light more.

All it had taken was one night of Fiona being back for all that progress to retreat back to where they’d been hidden. Cordelia had urged you then to back away, to leave her and grow by yourself, that she was only holding you back.

But you gritted your teeth and grinned in the face of the devil. You weren’t scared of the dark. And you’d be damned if you were leaving it without your girlfriend. Even if you had to start right back at the beginning, you’d help her to heal.

“You could be the next Supreme.” You urged, pulling her head from where it rested on the table, forcing her to look in your eyes and see your honesty.

“Don’t say things that aren’t true.” She begged, vision hazed by tears.

“But it is true, Delia. You’re so powerful.” You pressed, eyes conveying your severity like your voice couldn’t. Willing her to believe.

You reached to brush the tears that clung to her eyelashes before they fell and stained her face. A lingering kiss to her lips, the feeling of her lower lip wobbling between your own. In that moment, you could feel her fragility.

You didn’t want to push further, knowing that she may never truly believe in her full potential like you did. Instead, you pushed yourself to feet and bounced in front of her. She looked up in confusion, eyes still full with tears that caught the light, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss them away again. They didn’t deserve to dampen her skin.

“Dance with me?” You asked, standing and offering a hand the way you’d so often seen in movies.

A shy smile formed on the headmistress’ lips, cheeks pink and the tips of her ears flushed as she allowed herself to be pulled from her seat. Into the shine of the moonlight, which shone beams of liquid silver through the glass onto the hard stone and the soft of Cordelia.

Your arms secured themselves around her waist while hers stroked the back of your neck. Moments like this made you wonder if perhaps the cliché’s people told you about love had been true. Maybe this could be forever. It always felt like forever when you were in her arms.

You swayed to phantom music, slow and deliberate, soft touches and kisses on bare shoulders. You felt like even a whisper would shatter the perfect peace you’d enveloped you both in, sending ripples of doubt over the sheer water and to Cordelia again.

The moon felt like perfect company in that moment, like a third person, watching and waiting. A witness to the silent change.

Cordelia pressed her forehead to yours, her fingers splayed through the hair at the back of your head, holding you close. You could see the depth of her eyes, searching for the lie in yours that wasn’t there to find. You truly believed that she was the next Supreme, she had to be.

“Say something.” She breathed, hand on your waist dancing under the hem of your top, cold fingers on warm skin.

“Like what?” You asked, pulling back momentarily so you could smile at her. The hand that was behind your head tucked hair behind your ear and brought your hand from her shoulder so she could press lips to your knuckles. The ridge of bone under the soft of her skin and then she was hugging you again.

“Anything, I just want to hear your voice.”

So you told her about yourself. Stories she’d never heard and memories you’d thought you’d forgotten. Whispers of your past shared with your future.

She nuzzled her chin into the crook of your neck and listened, breathing deep the smell of your perfume that clung, lingering to the collar of your clothes.

A laugh.

Rippling up your throat at reminiscing a memory, vibration muffled against her ear at your jaw, and Cordelia swore that she could feelyour emotions. Truly feel you, and she realised that you couldn’t lie to her. Couldn’t will yourself to say something untrue just to still the aching beat of her heart within her chest.

You couldn’t make yourself want to mend her. You didn’t want that. You wanted to help her heal. Heal from her past that held less joy and laughter than yours did.

You wanted to help her create memories of her own, just like this.

Slow dancing in the greenhouse.

Dancing in the dark under the glow of the patient moon.

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[bluegarners]

hiya @viceturtle! I finally got it done! Here is your Bad Things Happen Bingo request with Dick and Jason; you can also read it on ao3

What Have I Done?

It’s a lot. He’s not going to lie.

Dick was dead for eight months. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. It was a fact that they were all forced to deal with, all forced to live with. Dick was dead and there was nothing any of them could do about it. And for a time, Jason had held onto the small belief, he’s not going to call it hope, that Dick had somehow managed to pull through. That even despite the beatings, the torture, everything before and after it, Dick had managed to pull through and come out of it all alive.

But he hadn’t. That was the thing, at its core. Dick died. 

Jason knows what it is to be dead. To be beaten and left to die. To struggle and still search for a way out of the shit hole you’re suddenly in and cling to that light, that stupid, stupid promise in the back of your head that screams, Help is coming, just hold on a little longer, that forces you to keep struggling, keep surviving, keep hoping for a way out despite the circumstances. Jason knows and it absolutely sucked. 

He died and then clawed his way out of his own coffin. One of his fingers is permanently misshapen, wood chips and metal piercing through his stiff and cold skin. He’s got scars all over his body to prove that he died, to prove that he was beaten with a crowbar, messed around with like he was just some dummy, some thing that could take a beating and then some. Up and down and across and lined; the scars are all over him and he died.

And Dick died too. 

In those eight months, Jason felt more connected to his deceased older brother than he ever had before. A deep and twisted connection over a shared death, a similar fate so convoluted it makes Jason sick to think about sometimes. His murderer is still out there. Jason has to live with that fact and even though it’s not fine and things would be so much easier without that psychopath, Jason gets it. Sometimes. Gets the moral code, the compass, that shrouds Batman and his little followers.

And he’s trying. He is. He made an effort to try and do the right thing when Dick died because suddenly, the role of older brother had fallen onto him and even though he doesn’t have a good relationship with Tim or the recently resurrected Damian, or anyone for that matter, there was still that recognition that it was all on him now. He was the eldest. He was the one to look towards. Not look up to, no, he will never claim the title of a role model, but now he’s the oldest, the most experienced, the next in line when one just can’t go to Bruce about shit going on.

The point being is that he did try, put in more effort than he probably should have, to stepping up to the plate and taking a swing at being better. At being the eldest of the entire brood and not fucking it up horribly. He switches to rubber bullets and smoke pellets. He keeps his excessive violence reserved for only the worst scum and even then still attempts to steer clear from Batman’s territories. He takes care of the Narrows, rekindles a sort of friendship with Tim, doesn’t fight the literal child that lurks in the Cave, and avoids confrontations with Bruce altogether.

It works and it’s good. He steps up, frankly owns being the eldest, and he’s fine. He’s fine with it. He’s still got his reputation intact, Red Robin isn’t terrified of his presence any longer, and Robin doesn’t pull a sword every time they spot one another. So what if he slips up occasionally and gets carried away? They’re just rubber bullets, weapons all the same, and they’re no different from getting hit with Batman’s fist (which Jason knows, from experience, hurts like hell) or getting swung at with a large knife. 

He had a thing going on, is what Jason’s trying to get at, and then Dick showed up.

Dick. Richard Grayson. Who died eight months ago after he was tortured by the Syndicate and had his heart stopped by Lex Luthor. Who they had a funeral for. Who they mourned for. Who Jason had attempted to fill the gaping hole he had left behind.

Who Jason thought had died.

Betrayal is a word Jason feels like he could apply to a majority of his life. Betrayal from his parents, his poor, poor mother who just couldn’t muster up enough fucks. Bruce, Batman, for getting him into the vigilante life, for letting him wear that damn costume and get himself blown up for all his efforts. Talia, for restoring his mind after he was supposed to be dead. Bruce, Batman, again, for letting his murderer walk around like it was another Sunday, any other day, just a nice, normal day for a stroll like he didn’t just kill Bruce’s own son-

Yeah, Jason feels like he has liberal use of betrayal. It’s just an old song he hums sometimes and lets others join in occasionally.

But there was an unspoken code, a silent right-of-passage, when it came to being Robin. A mutual understanding of sorts. You don’t back-stab another Robin. Ever. You don’t lie, cheat out, betray a fellow Robin. There were too many shared experiences when it came to being Batman’s, Bruce’s, Robin and that ultimately revolved all back to trust and knowing that things were still the same despite all these years. Being Robin was both the best thing to ever happen to someone and also the ultimate death sentence. You don’t just get to be Robin either. You’ve got to earn it, to prove yourself, to show that you can take it all on, to keep up with Batman and the ever changing and violent Gotham.

So, when Dick shows up with an apology on his lips and the expectation of being welcomed home after all this time, Jason punches him square in the jaw. It’s surreal, a part of him thinking his fist will just phase right through the man’s face, but his knuckles connect and if the sound of his fist against Dick’s jaw isn’t the most satisfying and cruel thing he’s ever heard, Jason doesn’t know what is. 

It’s agony, nearly, to see the red blossom on his older brother’s cheek because, holy hell, that means it’s all real. That Dick is really alive and not still buried in that weed covered yard with decaying roses scattered on top of it. Dick is alive and Jason is furious because he’s supposed to be dead and Jason already tried so hard to fill the other man’s impossibly huge shoes and he was doing a damn good job at it. He likes to think so, at least.

But who cares, right? Who gives a shit when Dick is back now and it was all for nothing? Everyone can just go back to their normal routines now that the star player is back and they don’t need a fill-in like Jason to stick around. All that effort, all that time, all that trying all summing up into one big, Surprise, I’m not dead, from the man of the hour himself.

Jason avoids Dick after that. The man said he wasn’t staying long, just “checking in” with everyone like he was just on some business call for a few months and not dead. 

And that’s the root of it, Jason thinks. That’s what really gnaws at him because Dick is treating the whole situation exactly like he was on some extended vacation and just forgot to tell anyone where he was going. Not like his absence literally turned their entire world upside down. Not like the loss, the emptiness, that literally echoed everywhere Jason went was consuming and terrifying. In those eight months, Jason had to toe the line between being the eldest and maintaining his identity as Red Hood, and that’s where Jason truly felt close to Dick. Felt like he finally got what Dick and Bruce’s arguments were about so many years ago, this constant war of wanting to be better, wanting to have freedom, wanting to stay yourself when there was a constant war of others trying to get you to fill a role that you don’t want. 

Finally, Jason felt like he had some other important connection to his elusive older brother that had nothing to do with the man that housed them, only for it all to be thrown across the room and into the trash. 

To keep it simple, bare-bones, really dumbed down, Dick lied. About being dead, of all things. Jason can get behind needing to lay low after all that, being stripped of your identity on live television wasn’t exactly great for their kind of lifestyle, but to just leave? To go out on some mission and leave the rest of them out to dry like that? No warning, no hints, no notes, nothing? God, at least Jason made an appearance. Granted, not the best sort of re-introduction, but at least he wasn’t trying to hide.

To say the least, Jason is hurting. The anger faded along with any sort of need to prove to Dick that he had stepped up when he left. Now, he just feels… shitty. In a way, this is what he had been half-way expecting. No one stays dead in this business. There is always someone with a back-up or ex-machina to save the day and bring back a fallen hero, villain, whatever. But there had just been something so final, so human in Dick’s death. In that moment, seeing the mask ripped off, seeing his brother’s face on T.V out of context, away from the normal flashiness that was being related to a billionaire, it had scared Jason because that was his brother, Dick Grayson, world’s most annoying man in the universe, on T.V; beaten, bloodied, bruised, and humiliated for everyone to see.

He’s always been jealous of how clean and clear Dick’s eyes looked. Just a simple and rare shade of blue, obnoxiously bright and searching. Jason’s mother used to say he had his father’s eyes, a muddy mix of blue and green. He’s never liked his eyes, but there was always something so attention grabbing with Dick’s. Seeing them on T.V, wide and blood-shot and bruised to hell; the blue was out of place and humanizing in a way that Jason just couldn't describe because it was simply Dick Grayson there. Not Nightwing. Not a hero. It was just Dick Grayson, world’s worst older brother ever, looking lost, defiant, and defeated all at once.

And that hurt.

The man is like some nasty disease that won’t leave him alone though. Their first meeting was two days ago and Jason is trying his best to ignore the knife in his chest, not literally, when Dick shows up. Just outside the Narrows on the roof of a bodega, Dick appears from where ever the fuck he’s been and walks over to Jason. It’s a cue, Jason knows, when thunder rumbles in the distance and if he were a bit more into literature, feeling a bit more melancholy for his freshman year of high school, Jason would say that a storm is coming for the both of them, not just Gotham.

Dick walks with his hands in his pockets, stuffed inside an old brown jacket that looks well-used and well-loved. Jason’s never seen the jacket before. Must’ve gotten it on his extended vacation. A part of Jason knows that Bruce was in on it too, that Bruce probably deserves just as much anger he’s dishing out towards Dick, maybe even more, but Jason’s tired of trying to play nice and get along. Dick is the one in front of him now, right here on a Wednesday night with the glowing, neon advertisement for Coke singing behind their heads and a run down, twenty year old convenience shop beneath their feet. 

Dick is here and now when he should be dead.

Just like Jason should be.

“What do you want?” he asks, the metallic tin of his voice modulator diminishing some of the threat. It’s a known fact that Red Hood guards his territory with a viciousness rivaling a rabid dog. Outsiders aren’t welcome. Never welcome.

In contrast, Dick is mask-less. Civilian. Same clear blue eyes from eight months ago that were sealed shut the last time Jason saw them. A dark bruise stains Dick’s right cheekbone, the shape of knuckles and betrayal. It’s a good contrast.

“I came to say goodbye,” the other man answers, stopping just short of six feet in front of Jason, “and that I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner. I really am,” he insists when Jason remains silent. “Things just… happened too fast. It killed me to be away from you all for so long. I wanted to tell you, I did-”

“Really?” Jason interrupts lowly. “It killed you, huh?”

Dick sighs, a hand coming up to brush through his hair. “That’s not what I meant. You know it’s not.”

“I don’t know, Dicky. Times are changing, you know. One minute, you’re the star pupil, and the next I’m your backup. And now,” Jason shrugs, letting his hand come up to rest on the holster he keeps on his hip, “I’m not so sure about that.”

Dick is eyeing Jason like he’s looking at something he doesn’t like. Something that’s leaving a bad taste in his mouth. But that’s just something he’s going to have to deal with, isn’t it? Suck it up buttercup, and all that.

A laugh erupts from Jason as he truly takes it all in. “You know,” he chuckles, nothing humorous causing his mirth, “you really had me there for awhile. I bought you flowers, went to your funeral, dealt with all that shit, and yet here you are. In the flesh.” He laughs again, fingers curving steadily around the grip of his gun. “I think I liked you better dead, Dick.”

The older man frowns, brow dipping into a neat crease. Not a single wrinkle on his perfect, tan, not dead face. “The situation was unavoidable,” he says, like he actually believes a word he utters. “Batman needed a guy on the inside. The, hm, circumstances leading up to that set it up so that I could be that guy. It wasn’t exactly my choice to stay dead, Jay.”

“Names,” Jason snarks, that same anger he felt two days ago rearing its ugly head again. “You know, you say you didn’t have a choice, but I think there’s a clear distinction between dead and alive, don’t you? It might just be me, who knows because fuck if I do, but I think a warning woud’ve sufficed. A fucking warning. ”

Something must click in Dick’s head as his frown deepens. His hands are out of his jacket pockets now. They’re both tense.

“I’ll be back soon,” he says. “Maybe another month. Two at most. When I get back, I’ll try and…” Dick trails off there, as if searching for the right words, but Jason doesn’t have the patience for him to find the right way to say the same bullshit he’s already heard before. 

He’s so tired. So, so tired.

“We were fine without you,” he snarls, relishing in the way Dick’s eyes widen at the claim. “The world doesn’t stop turning just because you decide to go off on a little adventure. Newsflash, asshole: None of us need you. You can’t come back here and expect everything to fall back to the way things were just because you decide it’s time to show your face again.”

“I was doing what I thought was right,” Dick snaps back. “Look, I’m sorry you had to step up and be a decent person for once-”

“And there it is,” Jason growls, unholstering his gun. “You think you’re so much better than me. You’re just so goddamn smug you can’t even see your own mistakes. What, is my being here just too inconvenient for you? Can’t make all the little hero-worshipers fall back into line like they used to?”

“Stop putting words in my mouth. I did what I thought was best for everyone and I paid the price for it.”

Jason lunges, cutting the feet between them into inches. “What was best?” he yells, swinging with one fist and aiming with the other. “Who the hell are you to decide that?”

Dick retaliates, pushing away Jason with a kick that connects to his armored chest. It’s barely a glancing blow though and he’s charging forwards again, squeezing the trigger as a shot rings off into the air, missing Dick’s foot by a few centimetres. Another crack of thunder resounds in the distance and a bolt of lightning cracks open the dark sky. Dick rolls away from Jason’s tackle, on the balls of his feet and ready to jump away again.

“I didn’t come here to fight you,” Dick tries, widening his stance. “I just came to, god, I don’t know, Jay. I didn’t ask for this!”

“Cut the bull,” Jason says, raising his gun again. He’s got it trained on Dick’s mid-section and even though a part of him knows he’s not going to take the shot, another part of him has his finger itching towards the trigger. “None of us asked for any of the fuckery that comes our way, but we deal with it, right? I’m dead, you’re dead, the brat’s dead, we’re all dead!”

There’s another crack of thunder, one that brings the rain with it. It pours, instantly drenching the pair, and a sheet of gray divides them. There’s surely something poetic about it, the divide that surrounds them both, but Jason’s not one to dwell long.

“Well, I’m not dead anymore!” Dick screams through the rain. “I am alive! I’ve been dead for eight months and I don’t want to fucking be anymore! I want to come home, Jay. I am alive. Goddamnit, I am alive!”

“So why didn’t you tell us that? Tell any of us that? All of this, that’s on you , Dick. You want to know why there wasn’t a big fucking parade for you? Why no one was fighting over the chance to be the first one to get to shake your hand? It’s because we don’t trust you anymore. No one fucking wants you near them because that’s how badly you fucked up.”

He must strike a nerve because Jason sees something crumple on Dick’s face. 

“I didn’t- I didn’t want to leave you guys, Jay. God, you’ve got to believe me on that. I had no choice. It was either I leave and do this for Batman or-”

That same anger rises up again. Anger from different directions, different thoughts, but ultimately because it’s about Batman. Always, always about Batman. What he wants. What he needs you to do. Because if you don’t do it, and someone dies, it’s your fault. And Dick has always been the suck-up, the one to come when called, because even after all their spats and all these years of silence between them, Dick was still a Robin first and goddamnit if Jason doesn’t understand that. He hates that he understands that need to please Batman, to do what he asks in the hope of just some tiny ounce of praise or acknowledgment, but Dick is a grown adult. He’s not Robin anymore.

None of them are.

Dick takes a step forward and Jason squeezes the trigger, feeling the recoil in his wrist as Dick freezes, the bullet breezing right past his armpit. His eyes are wide, finally taking the weapon in as it is, and there must be some realization going off inside Dick’s head because now he’s the one charging in, stance low and shifty, and Jason’s on the defense now. His finger is still on the trigger, just barely, and he’s raising it to aim again when a flying round-house knocks the gun from his hand and fist drives under his chin. It disorients him a bit because, damn, he didn’t actually expect Dick to fight back, Jason was trying to get him to go away, but now they’re both serious. They’re both dangerous.

It’s a no-weapons brawl, just fists and dirty kicks and the rain is still pounding away against the bodega. The rain has plastered Dick’s hair to his skull and Jason is grateful for his helmet because it’s clear the water is making it difficult for the older man to see. He takes advantage of this, striking down with his elbow on Dick’s trapezius and quickly hooking his left foot around his ankle. It works for a split second, Dick thrown off and unbalanced, before Dick is tumbling down and using his own momentum to pull Jason down with him. 

They’re on their backs now, rough and cold cement bleeding through their jackets, and the neon Coke sign flickers in and out as thunder continues to roll and shake the world.

“You should’ve stayed dead,” Jason snarls, taking a jab at his older brother’s face. “You should’ve never come back.”

Dick frees one of his hands from underneath the massive bulk of Jason’s suit, palm striking the sides of his helmet. “Take off the godamn hood and say that to my face,” Dick pants, shoving one of his knees into Jason’s side. “Look me in the eye and tell me you want me dead, Jay. Tell me you want me dead. ”

Another bolt of lightning splits the dark and its image refracts against the many puddles, and for a moment, the light sears into Jason’s eyes. He flinches against the burn and it’s enough hesitation for Dick to take the unguarded moment and flip Jason, crouching with one knee on his chest and the other digging into Jason’s forearm. They’re both breathing heavily, exhausted both physically and mentally, and he doesn’t bother to stop his brother as Dick reaches down and shoves the helmet off of his face.

Their eyes meet and Jason squints up at clear blue. Yeah, he hates that color. Hates it so much it feels like something ugly in his stomach, coiling and clenching. They’re both frowning but Dick just looks resigned. Jason hates that too. Now that he has the chance, he can see new scars on his brother’s face. New, finer lines and white and pink discoloration. 

Funny how eight months can make someone look so much older.

“I wish you had stayed dead,” Jason finally says, hating himself all the more for it. “I wish you had never come back.”

Dick stumbles off of him and there’s a thin trail of red leaking from one of his eyebrows that keeps getting washed away. Jason doesn’t even remember hitting him there, but he must’ve been excessive. Must’ve over-done it. Just another thing he’s managed to fuck up. Check it off the list. 

He sits up, feeling the ache of a sore back and numerous bruises, and watches as his brother leans heavily against the poles of the advertisement. The rain only seems to come down harder, bouncing off the yellow stained bodega roof. He gets to his feet slowly, careful to keep an eye on the slouching man, and treads over to pick up his helmet. His gun is closer to the bright neon sign and when he gets near enough, Dick looks up, something horribly heavy and sad, settling into his face.

“Okay,” is all he says, nodding once. “Okay, Jay.”

Dick reaches into his jacket pocket once more, fiddling with something, but Jason’s too preoccupied putting his helmet back on to really pay attention to it. They’re done fighting. Done with whatever all of that was. His hair is soaked, his jacket is going to have a layer of mildew on it in the morning, and Jason is tired. Beat. He can’t find the will-power to truly be bothered with anything else. 

This is his territory so he’s not technically fleeing, but that’s what it looks like. Tail between his legs, off to lick his wounds, Jason’s sure that’s what Dick is thinking (he knows that’s not true, he knows this, and he’s got a little secret screaming, pounding away in the back of his skull, but Jason’s too burned out to deal with it, to address it). He walks to the edge of the roof with his back turned on his older brother, his alive and breathing, long lost brother, and jumps off, sliding down the fire escape and landing on the grimy streets below. His boots squelch in the rain, and there’s water logged into his socks, but Jason ignores it in favor of staring ahead. Refusing to look back.

Here’s the thing about being a Robin that everyone who’s been one before knows. 

You rely on each other. There’s no codependency, not really, but there is a certain degree of reliance on past and current Robins. Robin is the inspiration. Not Batman. Batman doesn’t inspire little kids to go out in the night and get punched in the face and witness cruelty so awful you have nightmares for years after. Batman doesn’t inspire light and forgiveness and mercy; that’s all Robin’s doing. The bright colors, the chatter, the youth. That’s all on Robin, the little child weapons they are, and the shared experience of being that for Batman is a bond that runs so much deeper than blood. Thick and interwoven and relied upon so much more heavily than a simple crest or uniform.

And here’s that screaming secret that vibrates inside Jason’s skull: he’s happy Dick’s back. That Dick’s alive. At the end of the day, Dick was the first Robin, the first light, and having him snuffed out was a world that got three shades darker, bleaker. It was Dick’s Robin that truly gave it the twinge of hope all the Robins after carry with them; he was the model, the mold, they shaped themselves after. Him being dead changed that perspective for the worse because the first Robin made it. That’s what was so important, what tips the scales for the confidence of all Robins after. Dick made it. Survived being Robin, survived past Robin, and became his own hero. 

Dick outlived being Robin and that was the ultimate goal. To survive. 

So him dying was the last straw but now that he’s back, alive, everything was going to be okay again. Yeah, they’re all still messed up from it, there’s going to be a lot of trust built back up again, but they’re Robins for Christ's sake. Thicker than blood, stronger than a crest, relied on more than Batman. And maybe Jason’s being sentimental, still trying to be more eloquent than his sophomore English education allowed him to be, but God, he’s trying. He’s trying so hard despite the ache that wears down his bones and the fire that consumes his brain.

That’s why he gives in. Turns around. Looks back. Does what he thought he was too stubborn to do, but things change and-

The neon sign is brighter. No, that’s not right. There’s another source of that eerie, glowing light and Jason’s eyes widen as he sees a person step through it. Another figure, broad, muscular, unfamiliar, and they’re heading straight for Dick. His brother. Who is still leaning against the advertisement poles. Who’s not doing a damn thing to avoid the stranger that’s fast approaching. 

Soreness and fatigue forgotten, Jason starts sprinting, boots pounding against the pavement as he cranes his neck upwards to watch the stranger continue to advance.

“Dick!” he yells in warning, drowned out with the rain. “Dick, move!”

He slams into the fire escape, hands scraping up the ladder as he hauls himself three steps at a time, chest heaving and heart beating wildly. He slips, losing his footing, and Jason grunts as he feels the pull on his shoulder and his knees bang into the sides of the bodega. He pushes on though, gripping the metal tightly and finally reaching the top.

He’s pulling himself over, gasping and searching, and he sees the man tugging Dick closer to the strange light, what Jason thinks must be some sort of portal, and before he’s even gotten a leg over the edge, his right hand is scrambling for purchase on his gun. He takes aim and fires without a second thought and curses aloud when it jams.

“Dick!” he yells again, throwing the useless weapon away and falling over onto the roof. “Stop! Stop! What’re you doing?”

His brother just trudges on though, bicep gripped by the stranger that continues to drag him closer and closer to the pulsating light, ghoulishly pink and saturating the air with an ominous buzz. Another flash of lightning illuminates the sky and Jason trips over himself in his haste, crashing into the slick cement. He whips his head up, too far away, too late, as the stranger disappears fully into the portal, Dick just a few inches away.

“Wait!” Jason cries, still attempting to rise off of his knees. Damn the rain. Damn the weight of his grief. Damn it all, get up. Get up. “Dick, stop! Stop!”

The rain is loud though and there’s a divide between the two of them, mixes of gray, pink, and red light. His brother half turns, watching as the younger stumbles towards him, and Jason can’t hear anything, can hardly process what’s even happening now, but Dick’s lips move in what Jason thinks is, Goodbye, and Jason screams, lunging as his brother fades into the light.

He falls, smashing into the cement once again as he fails to reach for his brother’s hand, and lands where the portal had just been. He lays there on his chest, heaving and attempting to breathe through his helmet, but it’s too hard, too suffocating, and Jason rips it off and flings it as far away from him as he can. His hands clench into fists and he fights back the urge to cry as he slams his fists into the roof. Bam-Bam-Bam.

Something cracks in his knuckles and Jason stops at the pain, shifting back and hanging his head between his knees. There’s a vicious burn in his eyes, his ugly, muddy green eyes, and Jason swipes at them furiously.

“We just got you back,” he whispers through gritted teeth. “We just got you back, Dick, and you, you just-”

A clap of thunder rattles the thin poles of the Coke advertisement as its lights finally flicker out. The night is dark without its glow and Jason is left in obscurity. 

“What have I done?"

[lastxviolet]

Madripoor is for Lovers (Zemo x F!Reader) - Ch. 3

Summary: Y/N is a SWORD agent recruited to help Sam and Bucky track down Karli and the super-soldiers. When Helmut Zemo joins the team, he takes a special interest in her. The friendly union is wrought for disaster, but then things take a turn for the worst when Y/N is taken as collateral. Will Zemo keep her forever? Does she even want to escape? And what happened in Madripoor that made the whole thing so complicated?

Warnings: 18+ / smut / oral sex / f receiving

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32878015/chapters/81589774

The hypnotic bass and Zemo's enthusiastic dance moves almost got you carried away. But over the bouncing crowd, you saw Sharon, Bucky, and Sam on the stairs, looking for you.

“Shit,” you mumbled, breaking the trance. “We gotta go.”

Zemo followed your line of sight and turned to lead you back to the group in silence. You try to hide the disappointment on your face.

“We found him,” Sharon yelled over the music upon your approach.

The five of you went over the plan for tomorrow back in Sharon’s suite. You doubted that even with your experience, you could’ve found Dr. Nagel without Sharon's help. In the states, it was easy to pick a needle out of a haystack, because you always knew what you were looking for. But here, everyone was a criminal. Uncharted territory where you had to find the sharpest needle amongst thousands.

“You good?”

Sam’s voice cut through your thoughts. You looked up and noticed the dissipating group. Sharon showed Bucky to his room, and Zemo sat with his eyes glued to a book on the couch. Only Sam remained standing in front of you, looking like he was about to pass out.

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “Go get some sleep. You look terrible.”

He chuckled and nodded in agreement. “We gotta get the hell out of here. Madripoor has aged me at least ten years.”

“Me too. I miss places where being a criminal makes you the odd one out, not the other way around.”

“Goody two-shoes,” he teased before turning to find his room.

Sharon waved him on from down the hall and they got back into it about her pardon and what she’d missed in the states.

Your attention shifted to the only other person in the room. Zemo’s eyes wasted no time abandoning his book and landing on you as soon as you were alone.

“The Odyssey,” you asked, pointing to his book. “I didn’t take you for someone who enjoys fiction.”

He smiled at the attention and made room for you on the couch.

“I often find that there are elements of truth in every fantasy. The human spirit is sometimes better examined by poets than by professors. This, for instance, is a brilliant study on heroes.”

“Hmm, studying heroes? An attempt to know thy enemy?”

He laughed and turned to you with his elbow up on the back of the couch, bringing him less than a foot away from your face. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the lights down the hall go out. There were no interruptions, or easy outs, now. All that was left was you, and the only man who’d ever made you truly nervous.

“Y/N, if you were in Odysseus’s place, content and immortal, would you give it up to go back home?”

“You’re asking me if I’d abandon my legacy and family to shack up on an island with some mistress?”

He chuckled and nodded in approval. “Very wise. But what does he gain by leaving? Struggle? Hardship? Mortality?”

You tilted your head to match his. “Are you telling me that you’d stay on the island?”

His expression shifted for the first time since you’d stepped foot in Madripoor. The overconfident, smirking Baron dissolved into a man.

A man who hid the sense of riotousness that he carried with dramatic flair. A man whose charm and wit seemed fabricated.

This man now, fighting off sleepy eyes and grappling with the moral quandary posed, seemed burdened. You wondered if his quest for justice would ever get to be too much. After all the destruction he’d caused, could he still see himself as the exactor of fairness? Were the Avengers still his enemy? Were you?

“No,” he confessed looking down at the copy in his hands.

Your lips twitched but you didn’t smile. “You’d make the hard choice — the hero’s choice if it came down to it.”

He looked almost somber at your words and nodded.

“In another life…perhaps.”

His voice wavered, almost as if he regretted saying it out loud. The briefing that Sam and Bucky had given you about him flashed in your mind.

A hero's choice was the right thing to do; the hard thing to do. You knew that he was a soldier before everything happened. Just like you.

Was that not a hero’s choice?

He tore the Avengers apart in an attempt to stitch up his own heart. An eye for an eye. Avenging his country because its destruction had been glossed over by the world. His loss fueled his anger but he was more capable than most. A man without armor, or mystical abilities was able to wreak havoc on those who had wronged him.

Was that heroism?

If losing those you love didn’t permit revenge, you weren't sure what did.

He broke the silence by tapping his knuckle on the book.

“It is the perfect testament to the valiance of heroes,” he continued. "But, I must say that the wisest thing Odysseus did was marry his wife.”

You laughed and nodded, remembering how she saved the day. Without her, Odysseus’s homecoming would’ve been much more perilous for him.

“I often find that behind every great man is an even better woman.”

He smirked and didn’t miss a beat. “Like you with…your Avengers.”

“I stand beside them,” you corrected.

He raised an eyebrow and waved a hand. “Semantics."

You gave him an eye roll in return.

He smiled then, wider than you had ever seen. It almost made him seem shy. Perhaps it was because he was making a genuine point, masked in humor.

You were well aware of your importance to this mission and yet burdened by the fact that it didn’t make you a member of their special club. When this was all over, you wouldn’t be an Avenger, or anywhere close. You’d go back to S.W.O.R.D to wait until called upon again. It hadn’t occurred to you before, but there was a pang of sadness there where the thought rested. It’d be a mistake to let Zemo know but it seemed to be too late.

“You’re making fun of me.”

His hand brushed yours. “No. I am merely expressing my concerns about your allegiances.”

Still aware of the small amount of alcohol left in your system, you looked away from his quirked moving lips.

“Enlighten me, Baron. What wrong decisions do you think I’m making?”

Frozen in place, you let him brush his fingers along your wrist to your arm. He took his time, tracing patterns on your skin and inspecting his work with an unwavering gaze. Only when his thumb caressed your cheek, and his hand landed on your neck did he look you in the eyes again. The air in your lungs was gone and your body betrayed you with a furious eruption of butterflies.

“Living a hero’s life,” he said somber-eyed and serious.

Your heart rate quickened. As if you’d learned nothing in S.W.O.R.D about manipulation, you were back to watching his lips. They parted slightly, as if he had something else to say but thought better of it.

A hero.

You didn't feel like one.

A sidekick, maybe. But even then, no one knew your name. No one sang your praises at home or breathed a sigh of relief knowing you were out there in the world fighting evil. It seemed that the only one who thought of you as more than an assistant was Zemo.

Your heart felt heavy then. The two of you were impossible. An inconceivable pair brought together by chance.

But that didn’t make his dark eyes any less enticing or his words any less intoxicating.

That didn’t make you any further from his lips.

He was a breath away, but so was your own destruction.

In another life, the island might tempt you.

“Look,” you said glancing past him to find something to change the subject. “It’s a full moon.”

Without sparing him another glance, you crossed the floor in four quick steps to the large windows. Never one to give up easily, you heard him follow close behind.

He beat you there and pushed open the glass door before gesturing towards the balcony in silence.

You looked down at your feet until the skyline drew your eyes. The plan to diffuse the tension had not worked in the slightest. The moonlit balcony overlooking the beautiful city had only made it worse.

You heard him stop a few feet from you and then settle on the lone armchair. The reality of the situation hit you like a train. Away from the windows, you had privacy. This high up no one would see you and everyone else was in bed. You'd meant to creep out of the lion's den but instead, you'd locked yourself in.

“The moon is a friend for the lonesome to talk to,” Zemo mused from behind you.

“Carl Sanburg,” you confirmed, so he knew you didn't think he'd made it up.

Both of you were silent then. Swaying in the tension you'd built. Sanity pulling you back inside, inexplicable hope keeping you planted in place.

“Are you lonely, Baron?”

The words fell from your lips more delicate and intimate than you had meant them to. You let slip that you cared about his answer. That you might even care to cure him of the ailment.

“Me? No.”

You turned and scoffed.

“Liar. You were in a cell for years and you hardly talk to anyone now that you’re out.”

He leaned back in the chair, arms on either rest and a leg crossed with the ankle of his right knee. His demeanor was harmless in the same way that a predator poised to pounce was. Elegant, still, and ready for the kill.

“Not true,” he corrected. “I talk to you.”

“One person isn’t enough,” you said, taking a step closer.

Were you walking into disaster? Or being pulled? You couldn't tell the difference between his seduction and your own reckless desires any longer.

“The right person though…can be,” he half-whispered. “And you, Y/N, are more than I deserve.”

He gazed up at you from the chair. Kings throughout history, in war-won golden thrones and elegant capes, paled in comparisons to how regal he looked. Anointed with a crown of moonlight, ruling over whomever he pleased.

Your eyes widened with the admission. “Baron — ”

“Helmut, please.” He stood then and met you near the railing, his hand grazing your hip. “Only if for tonight.”

You shook your head, knowing this was a bad idea. His hand made its way to your waist regardless. He pulled you against his chest before searching your eyes for any signal that you were going to run. You knew he’d find nothing. You knew you mirrored his look of lust with blown pupils and flushed cheeks.

“Have I gone too far,” he whispered, bringing his other hand to brush loose hair behind your ear.

“No,” you sighed, letting him pull you closer and brush his lips to your cheek and jaw.

“Tell me if I do,” he whispered again before finally capturing your lips with his.

You uttered no complaints as his tentative kiss turned bruising and possessive. His arms wound around your waist, crushing you into him. But you needed to feel closer. He grunted as you sprung to action, flinging your arms around his neck, deepening the desperate kiss. He tasted like whiskey and something sweet. A cool breeze brushed against the exposed parts of your body. You let your hands wander beneath his coat, chasing warmth and proximity. He let you do as you please, only insisting that his lips stayed on yours.

You let out a whimper as his hand explored the front of your dress. He stopped to press his warm hand against your breast, before holding your face.

It was then that he pulled away, steadying your searching lips with a grip on your chin.

“Ich esse nicht,” he sighed, kissing a pattern to your ear. “Ich schlafe nicht, ich tue nichts anderes, als an dich zu denken.”

His teeth grazed your pulse point, leaving you gasping for air.

“I don’t speak German,” you managed to stutter out.

A hand slid up the back of your dress, gripping the zipper before undoing it in one swift motion and the fabric fell to the floor. The cool air seized your naked torso for only a moment before Zemo pressed himself against you again. The coat you’d complained about before, now provided warmth and security. You tipped your head back, almost over the edge of the balcony as he continued worshipping your neck and chest.

“I don’t eat, I don’t sleep,” he said between wet open-mouthed kisses on your breasts. His hot mouth left purple spots that cooled instantly in the chilly night air.

“I do nothing but think of you,” he finished before toying with your hardened nipple between his teeth.

You moaned then, louder than you should’ve, and let your eyes flutter open. The world was upside-down but you made no motion to move. You were making Madripoor proud by being pressed up against a balcony by an international criminal.

Utterly pleased with himself, Zemo raised his face back towards yours, leaning you both over the edge.

“Shhh liebling,” he cooed.

He pulled you back over, kissing your shoulder before removing his jacket and draping it over you. Each brush of his lips feeling more improper than the last.

“We would not want your friends to see you like this.”

In the next second, he swept you off of your feet and hoisted you into his strong arms. You watched the world sway around you and then settle when he placed you on the lounge chair, letting you get some warmth back from the coat and cushions.

He draped one of your legs over an armrest, exposing you to him except for a thin pair of underwear.

“Not with you spread open for me,” he growled. He towered over you for only a moment before kneeling between your legs. The man whose stature made him the tallest amongst giants; the most important in any room he chose, knelt before you.

“What would they say,” he mumbled in a trace. His hands gripped both of your thighs, causing an eruption of goosebumps across your whole body. “If they saw you like this, with me?”

He looked up at you then, raising an eyebrow, and tracing the inside of your thigh with his thumb.

You answered him breathlessly. “They’d tell you to stop.”

“And what would you say to that?”

His voice sent shockwaves through your system. Dark and sultry, with a hint of danger. You threw your head back again, barely able to keep a single thought straight. Your body shuddered but you couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or the need for his touch. When you looked back to him, he was surveying your body with the hunger of a starved wolf.

“Would you want me to stop?” His voice was gentle and sweet then, asking in earnest.

“Meine Liebe," he taunted you for consent as he flashed a smirk and pulled something from his pocket.

Cold metal grazed your thigh. A moan escaped your throat as he unsheathed a serrated knife and caressed your skin with the dull side.

“I wouldn’t want you to stop,” you gasped, almost vibrating with anticipation. “I don’t want you to stop — Helmut — please don’t stop.”

He chucked again, before focusing his attention on the area between your legs. You bucked slightly as the icy knife slid underneath the fabric. He made one strong slash upwards and you felt the fabric fall away from your wet core. One of his hands gripped your ass, but only for a second before he tore the rest of the fabric from your body.

“How could I ever withhold something from you, liebling?” His nose grazed your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most. It was only a moment before you felt his breath between your legs.

“How cruel it would be,” he growled. You moaned and slapped a hand over your mouth as he kissed your sensitive bundle of nerves. “To not give you everything.”

His tongue swirled against you in a tantalizing pattern, stroking you deliciously. He licked you methodically like he was reading the blueprint of your body right then and there. He held each thigh in a punishing grip, pressing you deeper into the cushions as he made a meal of you. The stars above your head blurred and the universe shifted.

If this was your destruction then it was illustrious. You'd do it over and over again until you landed in a cell right next to him.

“Helmut,” you whined with a heaving chest.

“Tell me what you want,” he mumbled between flicks of his tongue. “And it is yours.”

You would’ve begged him to let you cum but he beat you to it, making your back arch and mouth fall open in ecstasy. You trembled beneath him, over and over, but he didn’t let up. Your legs strained from being extended by his unflinching hands. You tried to stutter something out to him but no sound came except for content sighs and haphazard gasps. But his eyes remained closed regardless of the noise.

Without his mouth on you, he would’ve been mistakable for a good Christian, deep in prayer. Brow's furrowed in focus and devotion; lips moving in silent divine appeals. Only he could make you feel worthy of an alter. You couldn't picture anyone ever worshipping you in the same way again. It was his, you thought. I am his.

Lost in pleasure and shock, you reached up to run your nails against his scalp. Only then did he release you, and raise to meet your waiting lips as they trembled.

“You,” was all you could manage to whisper. “Only you.”

He pulled you from the seat, to wrap your legs around him. You brought your forehead to his and let him pepper you with chaste kisses.

“When I have you,” he said, before pulling the coat around you again. “It will be in a proper bed.”

You stared at him, confused and overwhelmed. The space between your legs ached with a longing to be filled but he let your legs fall away, and stood up.

“We can’t…I mean not now — they’ll hear.”

Zemo smiled and nodded while looking for something on the ground. After a moment of searching, he picked up the torn pieces of the red underwear you had been wearing. Before you could retrieve it, he pocketed the shorn fabric and stared you straight in the eyes.

“Worry not, Y/N,” he purred, reaching a hand out to help you up. “We have all the time in the world.”

[milfnearyou]

                𝐨𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐧: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.

 “𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮.”

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.4K | 𝐎𝐇 𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐔𝐍 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: ANGST. CHEATING. BETRAYAL. SUGGESTIVE. THATS PRETTY MUCH IT THIS TIME AROUND. NGL THIS ISN’T MY BEST WORK AND IS A SHORT ONE SHOT, SORRY! CLICK HEADER FOR HIGHER RESOLUTION BC TUMBLR IS STUPID.

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“So you just woke up one day and decided you loved me?!” 

Your voice was painfully shrill, bouncing against the metal walls and echoing through the elevator shaft. If you hadn't been so furious, you would've cringed at the way you sounded. Considering your behaviour to be completely out of character and rather petty. But it was impossible to think straight. With all the sirens in your mind screaming 'Alert!' causing you to grow defensive. You saw everything as red, wrapped in a series of warning signs. Eager to protect yourself you grew aggressive, fury coursing through your veins and laced with disgust. 

The disbelief was evident in your tone, accompanied by the extremely annoyed look plastered on your face. Your eyebrows were contorted together, lightly creasing your forehead as you anxiously chewed on your bottom lip. Your hands were balled into tight fists trembling at your sides as you fought the urge to beat the living crap out of him. 

"Fucking answer me Sehun!" You exclaim, throwing your hands in the air. You didn't understand him, not taking any of his bullshit words seriously as a result. Had he been telling the truth, had he truly meant every word he said. Sehun wouldn't have just stood there in front of you with nothing to say. The silence he offered simply adding more fuel to the fire that raged inside of you. 

"So now you're silent? You weren't this fucking quiet back when you were professing your so-called love to me?! What's gotten into you now?"

Again, nothing but silence. The tall man simply stands there in front of you with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants as the elevator continues to rise higher and higher. With every floor, the elevator cabinet passed, the angrier you got and it didn't help that you lived in a high rise apartment. If he continued to act this way you'd be fuming, steam emitting from your body by the time you'd reach your floor.

“Do you even know what it means to love someone? Or do you just throw yourself in any direction that proves beneficial to your selfish well being?” The questions flew past your lips one after another. You weren’t going to hold back either. Pushing yourself towards him, forcing him to explain himself. 

You didn't deserve the silence. You deserved proper answers, ones that were absent from the immature man in front of you. 

"Answer me right now or I swear to god I'm cutting you off forever," Warning him, you take a step forward to face him closer. Invading his personal space as you stare at him, craning your neck upwards with your arms crossed. 

Watching him like a hawk, you attentively wait. Noticing how he seems to take a slight step back, his broad chest heaving up and down slowly. He seems to be nervous or perhaps, flustered? It was hard for you to believe that with all the ways he could've handled the situation this was what he opted for.

Step by step, you get closer and closer towards Sehun until he's got his back pressed against the metal walls of the elevator. It was hard to believe that someone who looked dominant most of the time could be so cowardly. 

"I'm not asking again," You state, pressing your index finger roughly against his chest. Physically pushing him around until he's finally had enough. His large hands pressing against your shoulders as he shoves you back, regaining his confidence. Finally, he refutes, silence no longer being an option for him.

“Fuck off! Do you want an answer? Fine, but you don't have to act like such an invasive bitch about things!" 

Stunned your eyes widen. You can't tell if you should be offended or impressed with just how much you pushed him but you let him speak. Not saying anything even though he had just called you a bitch. 

"No, I didn’t just wake up one morning and decide that I’d fall in love with you! It took me countless days and nights, essentially adding up into months of thinking about nothing except you! Do you know how painful it felt for me? Do you not understand how guilty I felt?!” The tone in his voice is dangerously low as he narrows his eyes at you. It's his turn to match your attitude, fixing his posture and standing tall. 

"Oh really? So you only thought about how you felt and not how I would feel knowing about your feelings for me? Sehun, how selfish can you be? You aren't the only person on this godforsaken planet!" 

"You don't think I knew that? I know you wouldn't be happy with this but you have to understand that had I kept everything to myself and continued to hang out around you; it would've been both disrespectful to you but also incredibly torturous to me. It was worth gambling my feelings and confessing with the consequence of potentially losing a friend instead of hiding it."  

Taken aback, you feel yourself pause and you hate yourself for it. Sehun has a point, he's valid for being upfront about things but there was just one thing that didn't sit right with you. Despite wanting an answer and getting it you curse yourself for falling silent. The hypocrisy of your silence hitting you square in the face but you're not done. You still have one more thing to say.

"What about the fact that you're still dating my best friend? Did you think about how much this would hurt her? No, let me guess, I bet you haven't even mentioned anything to her," Bringing your best friend up seemed to be the major thing standing in between both of you.

Sehun stares at you like he's been frozen in time. His features completely poised and monotone as your eyes scan his face for any sign of emotion. It was still much too hard to accept his words, to trust them and understand that it came from the bottom of his heart. Your anger was now replaced with complete confusion, perhaps even denial as you scoff at him. He was crazy to think you'd ditch your best friend for a man like him.

Sehun only stood there with his shoulders pushed back, his posture relaxed. His orange tufts of hair making him look like a complete clown. His current demeanour was very different in comparison to how defensive he was earlier.

How could he be so hot and cold? None of it made sense with his face being completely unreadable, everything felt bland like a black and white movie. Sehun could scream as much as he wanted but his words would never get through, bouncing behind the screen, staying unheard from the crowd. All these things made it impossible to find the sincerity he had in his words represented in his body language. 

The elevator came to a stop with a rather loud ding notifying you that it had arrived on your floor. You take one last look at Sehun battling with yourself on whether or not someone as selfish as him was worth entangling yourself with. But no matter how you thought of it you couldn't accept him. With Sehun came consequences, ones that you weren't willing to risk getting into and that being losing your best friend. Someone who was there for you through thick and thin could never be replaced with a man you'd only known for roughly a year.

He didn't mean anything to you and he wasn't allowed to have any meaning in your life, it just wasn't okay. Betrayal had a greater impact than love, you would be foolish to accept the latter. 

Leaving him behind, you step outside of the elevator. Realizing just how much more breathable the air outside the shaft was in comparison to being back inside holed up with your worst nightmare. Your moment of freedom is cut short when you feel his lean arms wrap around your waist pulling you back inside.

He's clinging onto you like a child refusing to let go as he rests his head next to your shoulder. His hot breath brushing against your neck, making you uncomfortable for many reasons that were quite obvious. He just wasn't single nor available and you couldn't let yourself be the other girl. 

“Please just—take a chance. I'm willing to cross oceans for you, tear apart anything that stands in my way because I love you. I'll break up with her, she's nothing like you. Why can't you see that I love you?” He rambles, his voice falling soft. Sehun sounds like he's about to fall apart as he speaks into the crook of your neck. 

His voice vibrating against your skin, echoing through your mind. Despite his tone being no louder than a whisper, his message came loud and clear. Slowly his plump, soft lips make contact with your skin as you freeze in place watching as the elevator doors slam shut. Moving downwards again you feel like you're slowly descending to hell. 

His actions gave you goosebumps as he peppered kisses against your neck. Using one hand to grasp your waist, holding you close to him. While the other cupped your cheek, tilting your head slightly so he could gain better access to your body, his kisses moving down south and landing onto your shoulder. Pushing your shirt slightly aside before gently biting down on your skin causing you to gasp. 

Sehun's touch was electrifying and almost hypnotizing, you felt yourself growing dizzy and out of touch with your surrounding. As he continued using his lips to convey how much you meant to him against your screaming mind that yelled at you not to do this to your best friend. But like a fool, you melt into his touch. Lips falling apart, as your chest heaves up and down. The air feels intoxicating as he rotates your head towards him. His lips crashing against yours as you feel like you're about to pass out. 

You can't give in, you can't betray your best friend and yet, you feel yourself kissing him back. Your tongue tangling with his, exchanging dirty, secretive kisses. Turning around to face him better you fall into all the places you knew weren't right and that was right into the arms of Sehun's. Intertwining your fingers with his, holding onto him tightly as if the only chance you'd have with him would be taken away. 

Now you knew what it meant to be selfish and just how delicious it tasted. 

The elevator is filled with the lewd, smacking of the shared kisses between you both. His body grinding into yours as you feel yourself growing heavy. Developing a strong heartbeat where your filthy desires lay. You felt yourself growing wet, shifting your thighs uncomfortably together. Feeling his hand snake down towards the waistline of your skirt, tugging on them. 

"You just have to say the word and I'm dropping everything and everyone for you," He says in between kisses as you tilt your head back in pleasure when you feel his fingers slipping past your skirt. Hovering dangerously over your soaked heat. "Do you want to run away with me?" He asks. 

You want to say yes. Your body having a mind of its own would rather speak for you but you just can't bring yourself to go through with it. The image of your best friend is hung up in your mind and even though the damage has already been done, you still don't think it's too late to stop. 

“I can’t and you know I won’t,” You reply, wincing at how your voice cracks. You didn’t want to seem weak in front of him, you needed to show him you had control over how you felt. That you were sure you didn't want him but it was all a lie. A lie you told yourself and in return had the truth spoken out loud by the actions of your body. 

Sehun knew of this and yet, his peppered kisses come to a halt. The grip he's got around you loosening as his hand slips out of your skirt. You step out of his grasp feeling ashamed, not daring to look at him. Turning around and staring at the doors instead. Fixing your shirt you crane your neck from side to side trying your best to calm down. Bringing a shaky hand towards the elevator buttons and clicking for your floor. 

You can feel Sehun's gaze boring holes into the back of your head. 

"I don't understand. Why can't you just let me love you? It's not that hard to just give me a shot. I can give you the world, give you all the happiness and security you need in life."

"--Let me be the man that protects you, that cherishes you. I know it's hard because of her but...don't we deserve to be happy?" He pleads, his voice wavering. If you had turned around to face him you'd see his lips quivering. His dark, brown eyes are glossy with tears threatening to escape from the tiny apertures of his tear ducts. 

But currently, it's your turn to fall silent. All because you know that despite him falling at the seams, begging you to love him you know that he'll only go back to being the same once he's got you twirling around his dainty fingers. His norm being the same silent person as always, emotionally unavailable and confusing as always. Plus, who's to say he won't just ditch you like he's doing to your best friend? 

"It's your turn to answer me," He pleads but you ignore him. Thanking the timing of the elevator for opening right at the end of his sentence. 

Quickly stepping off you pray that he doesn't snake himself around you again because if he does, you don't know if you had the power inside to fight him off again and thankfully he doesn't. Sehun leaves you alone watching you get out of his view, the sound of your Chelsea boots clicking against the hallway floors until suddenly you're just gone. A wave of heartbreak washing over his feelings as he realizes that he just can't sit here and do nothing. 

He won't go back to your best friend, he doesn't love her and in fact, he never did. It wasn't his choice to hurt her like this but he couldn't help but fall in love with the wrong person. So he chases you, chases the love of his life eager to satisfy his selfishness and have you by his side. 

The consequence of dealing with your best friend could come later but first, he needed to convince you once and for all that he was the only good thing in his life. Your best friend was to be replaced. 

   𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃: 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐅𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐔©︎

[vvienne]

CHENGXIAN FIC RECS

Petals on a Wet Black Bough by DachOsmin

While drinking at a tavern that caters to men that favor men, Jiang Cheng happens upon a masked stranger that looks eerily like his dead brother.

from these nettles, alms by callowyn, zorrosuchil

Jiang Cheng didn’t have a plan for Wei Wuxian coming back into his life, and he realizes now this was a mistake. He’s going to slip up. He’s going to give it all away.

Fate—or at least Jin Ling—is going to make sure of it.

you're the one that I want by verity

They haven't really talked about what's going on between them, except this morning while Jiang Cheng was eating breakfast and Wei Wuxian was lying on the sofa with his arm over his eyes, Wei Wuxian said, "Are you going to be weird about it if I hold your hand in front of our friends?"

Jiang Cheng chewed his youtiao.

"Just let me know," Wei Wuxian said. "It's chill."

Oh, Jiang Cheng knew very well that it was not chill. But he wasn't like Wei Wuxian; he couldn't just do things like that, like it was nothing. Wei Wuxian could name his sword—gleaming now on the rack above his head—Suibian, he could do whatever he wanted. He got all the curses and the blessings of being always inside and outside the Jiangs, and Jiang Cheng got everything else.

"You can hold my hand," Jiang Cheng said after he swallowed, feeling like he'd just walked over a bed of hot coals.

letters from inside the storm by serein

"Jiang Cheng," Wei Wuxian hears himself say, echoing and strange as if from underwater. His hands feel slow and fumbling as he reaches for Jiang Cheng's chest, watching the blood soak through the silk and keep dripping.

______________

A year post-canon, Jiang Cheng takes a blade meant for Wei Wuxian. Things unravel.

family resemblance by ruche

“I am good-looking,” Wei Wuxian cuts in, theatrically pouting. Then he drops the act and gestures at Jiang Cheng’s-- everything, “but in a different way than you, obviously.”

In which Wei Wuxian takes Jiang Cheng to a sex store. They are, as always, so incredibly supportive of each other.

i was put together wrong, still i was made for you by finedae

Wei Wuxian wakes up in Mo Xuanyu's body, and the five slits across his wrist. He also wakes up in a brothel where the Mo family had sent Mo Xuanyu after the embarrassment of harassing Sect Leader Jin Guangyao, his half brother and now Chief Cultivator.

Jiang Cheng pays for a night, looking for a demonic cultivator.

too much, not enough by Shamelesscooper

“Okay, so good news!” Wei Wuxian says, swanning into the room with just enough energetic cheer that Jiang Cheng knows whatever it is he’s going to say is going to be awful. “We figured out the nature of your curse! You’re probably not going to die! It’s not even going to hurt!”

“Yeah? And what’s the bad news?” Jiang Cheng gruffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

Wei Wuxian does a double-take, like he’d expected his (fake) good mood to fool Jiang Cheng. Like it’s ever managed to fool Jiang Cheng. His laugh is a little shrill, a little frenetic as he says, “Well, uh. You know our ghost friend back there? Yeah, she’s possessing you. Which is why...” He makes a gesture at the general area of Jiang Cheng’s... problem.

“Ah,” Jiang Cheng said, expression souring. “I’m not going to like the cure, am I?”

“You’re not going to like the cure,” Wei Wuxian nods.

--

Jiang Cheng gets cursed on a nighthunt. Wei Wuxian helps him with the cure.

Halves by jusrecht

What do you call halves that fit each other in all the wrong ways?

Start a Riot by ohwhatevrewhatevr

“They killed A-Die and A-Niang,” Jiang Cheng says, his sharp but defined muscular frame curling in. He's all lean, purposeful muscle, nude and bruised.

“Wei Wuxian -” Jiang Cheng grits out in a dangerous, furious rasp - there’s a slight tremor to it still. He still isn’t looking at Wei Ying, just lying there limp, his face to his side, showing his profile and those sharp cheekbones. “Where the hell did you go? Where did you go that was worth leaving me behind ?”

“I-”

“And why won’t you tell me? Why won’t you-”

TL;DR Jiang Cheng goes into heat, they fuck, and hormones make them spill some of the beans before they go spill some Wen blood. (no romance happens :/, just sex)

like you’ve never known fear by tsunderestorm

He doesn’t want to take it slow, because Wei Wuxian doesn’t want things slow. Wei Wuxian wants passion and skill and things Jiang Cheng doesn’t have, he just has anger and inferiority and a head full of fucking thoughts that won’t stop running around and bumping into one another when he’s trying to focus on this.

翻云覆雨 // in clouds and rainfall by oh_fudgecakes

A night hunt goes wrong when the group encounters a Qiongqi. While protecting his nephew, Jiang Cheng is hit with poison by the beast. They don’t have time to research an antidote, but prolonged dual cultivation with another cultivator will neutralize the poison...

When he’s chosen for the job, Wei Wuxian is surprised, and determined to give his shidi a good time. Alternatively: In Which Yunmeng Recon Happens While Wei Wuxian is Balls Deep In Jiang Cheng.

oh my god they were (step)brothers by serein

"Really, boys?" Yanli sighs. "Right in front of my salad?"

________________________

chengxian and step-brothers porn tropes: a montage.

baby it's a black hole by villainousfriend (katzenfabrik)

"What's wrong, Jiang Cheng?" he asks suddenly, looking up from his bowl.

Jiang Cheng just meets his gaze, not even lifting an arm to convey, Where do you want me to start?

"You've been... staring at me, this whole evening, shidi," Wei Wuxian adds, more slowly. The colour in his cheeks didn't fade after the bath, and now, with the food and candles, the room's got stuffy and he's even pinker than before. It should look healthy but it only highlights the shadows under his eyes, so deep they look like grooves in the skin.

"No, I haven't," he says automatically, and shoves a meatball in his mouth.

Jiang Cheng meets up with Wei Wuxian after Baoshan Sanren restores his golden core, just as they planned. After this, surely things are going to go right, right?

don't you worry honey, 'cause i can't say no by Runespoor

Wei Wuxian tests a talisman and hopes Jiang Cheng doesn’t make it weird.

hungry little fool by serein

Despite the easy warmth of the picture, Jiang Cheng immediately pegs something as wrong.

Wei Wuxian's looking at his slim forearms, held aloft in the air, with that look on his face like his unease is lapping at the edges, threatening to escape.

Like the tide is rising too high, and it's threatening to wash Wei Wuxian away.

[soft chengxian post-canon ft learning to love your new body]

lotus bridge by Sectionladvivi

Wei WuXian comes to visit Jiang Cheng's shitty apartment and they wax nostalgic about when they used to whack off to porn together as teens.

for a moment (i forget to worry) by everyearning (noctiphany)

He wants to fuck him, of course he does. But this is good. It’s almost too good. Wei Wuxian is afraid of things that feel too good now, too scared that he’ll wake up and it will all have been a dream. But he thinks as long as he can keep them like this, right on the precipice, maybe he won’t have to find out. Maybe this won’t get stolen from him like so many other good things.

smoke by serein

"You do piss me off," Jiang Cheng replied automatically, ignoring Wei Wuxian's faux-sad swoon. Jiang Cheng scowled. "If I'm such an oblivious idiot, why didn't you say something?"

Wei Wuxian huffed. "Well they're very confusing feelings to explain, Jiang Cheng. I want to kill anyone who thinks they can hurt you, but I also want to fuck you until you cry." Oh. Jiang Cheng's stomach fluttered in mixed interest and trepidation.

Canon divergent AU chengxian ft. Jiang Cheng's not so subtle danger kink and Wei Wuxian being a jealous, dangerous gremlin.

when everything soft abrades you by tsunderestorm

Jiang Cheng had said “no” when Wei Wuxian had first asked him to wear lacy panties and a bra when they fucked. He doesn’t feel bad about that, either - after all, it hadn’t even been a serious request, more rather one of Wei Wuxian’s off-hand, teasing remarks. They come off as jokes - at least, he means for them to - but Jiang Cheng knows from experience that they are backed one hundred and ten percent by Wei Wuxian’s modus operandi of “haha, unless it you’re into it though”.

Turns out Jiang Cheng is into it, too.

weaving figure eights and circles by vrooom

“Wait hold on. Jiang Cheng?” The voice is no longer sultry. It’s matter of fact, incredulous, and horrifyingly familiar in a way that makes Jiang Cheng’s insides shrivel up and crumble into dust.

“Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Cheng says, holding the phone as far away from his ear as possible. He glares at the phone like it personally betrayed him. “What the fuck are you doing on my phone sex line?”

can’t train a moth by Runespoor

"Hey. You alright?"

"My boyfriend wants to put nudes of me after sex on Grindr. Take a wild guess."

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng attempt communication and a new kink.

clothes make the man by verity

Jiang Cheng requires a new suit. Wei Wuxian removes it.