#and there's more where that came from. of course

[kamospeach]

plot: richboy!gojo takes his cute girlfriend golfing

content warning: exhibitionism, very nasty, pervy rich boy gojo mix, gojo is the biggest horndog ever, girly girl reader, established relationship, cunniilingus, fingering, missionary, public asf, they get caught, tad second hand embarrassment, cowgirl, dirty talking, breeding, implied blowjob, very nasty

peachy's yap: idk how i came upon this idea but it makes me wiggle my toes. posting to distract y'all from the fact the thukuna fic is gonna take me a while

you weren't exactly sure how you ended up getting your guts rearranged on your boyfriend's golf cart. you do remember being in his bed as his head laid on your stomach. while your fingers lazily ran through his white fluffy hair.

the two of you had been insanely bored for the last three days. you were both back home from college, and your parents had the audacity to go on a trip together, leaving the two of you alone in satoru's gigantic mansion for a whole week.

you weren't overly excited to see each other either, you went to the same school for fucks sake. this summer was a bust, suguru was in italy, shoko was with her girlfriend's family, and you two were... there.

"toruuu," you whined lightly pulling at his hair to get his attention. he groggily lifted his head to look up at you. forcing his eyes open after your fingers lulled him to sleep.

"yeah, baby?" he asked, chin resting on your stomach as he tried to keep his eyes open. he was failing terribly by the way. you had finally come up with an idea, knowing gojo would be all for it.

"remember how you said you wanted to take me golfing?" you asked, and gojo jumped up as if he had never been asleep. he quickly walked off to his closet, grabbing what you assumed was the golfing outfit he bought for you, probably well over a year ago. just as you suspected, he walked out with a pleated skirt and cropped polo.

"i've been waiting for this day for a year now," he laughed to himself, throwing the clothes at you. "i'm about to go get dressed." he giggled, running off to the closet. an hour later, the two of you were on his golf cart off to the private golf course in his very own backyard.

"i can't believe you made me wear this short ass skirt." you huffed arms crossed and gojo had the nerve to just laugh. the skirt was so old you didn’t even fit into it anymore. your ass peaked out but gojo reminded you that the course was private.

"i didn't make you do anything, i just gave you a sense of security." he nodded to himself as if that was the smartest thing he had ever said. you shook your head at his statement, not even bothering to argue with your strong-headed boyfriend.

when gojo had finally taken you to where you would play, he got off the cart. you watched his every move not understanding a damn thing he was telling you. all you did was admire how mouth watering sexy he looked in his richie rich get up. a black short sleeve polo that unironically matched yours, and beige slacks.

this fit was almost more attractive than his workout compression shirt. the way his arms bulged under the cotton mesh as he slipped on his gloves, or how his big muscular thighs were visible through his pants, and the veins in his arms were protruding due to him pulling the gloves on.

"get up, girl, you ain't think you were going to sit there the whole time, did you?" he asked, reaching his hand out for you. you grabbed his hand, stepping down off the golf cart, following shyly behind him. he handed you the club, standing behind you. "hold it here," he instructed.

he was hard and he shamlessly pressed it against your barely clothed ass. you didn't acknowledge it, knowing that it was best to breeze past it. so you let gojo show you where your hands were supposed to be, and you listened. he even helps you get a little power in your swing, the ball flying a solid 10 feet in front of you.

"i did it!" you giggled, turning to look at gojo who blinked in disbelief. and when he saw the seriousness on your face it took everything in him to hold back a laugh. "what? if i didn't do good, show me how it's done."

"alright," he said, grabbing the club from you, walking the short 10 feet to grab the ball. you stood back watching his big swing and the ball fly across the course. your jaw was practically on the floor in shock that he was so good at it. "that's how it's done."

"no fair toru... you're good at like everything," you whined, and gojo scoffed.

"don't do that, y/n, it takes practice." he pecked your lips, helping you get in the cart so you could go to the ball that was all the way in timbuktu. on the ride there, gojo had the bright idea to play strip golf.

the rules were simple, however, many tries it took for you to get it in the hole, was as many pieces of clothing you had to remove. you weren't confident in your abilities, but you were determined. how hard could it be? every other challenge you did with gojo you won.

well... except this one.

it took gojo all of 4 tries to get the ball in, and it took you 27. which resulted in gojo shaving it down to 6 since you didn't have 27 pieces of clothing. so all gojo had to take off were his socks, pants, and shirt. for you, that was your socks, shirt, skirt, bra, and panties.

"toru i'm butt ass naked," you said as gojo basically got a strip show from you. his eyes never left your body for a second. drooling over you like a virgin who had never laid eyes on a woman's bare body.

"and fine as fuck." was all he said grabbing you by your waist so that you were standing between his legs. he kissed along your neck moving his kisses to your lips. the kiss was heated and urgent, gojo was needy and wasn't afraid to admit. "i need you, so bad."

"wait... baby? right here?" you asked, and he nodded, not questioning it or hesitating. he didn't say much, he just picked you up and placed you down on the backseat of the cart. pushing your legs to your chest, giving you a knowing look, but you didn't obey. "t...toru, hold on a second." you said breathlessly making him deadpan.

"hold em," he said, and you sighed, grabbing the back of your legs, holding them up and open. gojo dropped to his knees, not even caring about his knees digging in the mud. his focus was on sending one teasing swipe of his tongue up your slick folds.

he hummed at the taste of your essence on his tongue. he was so sure he could use your slick as honey for his desert. so sweet he needed a glass of milk to wash it dow-

"toru!" you yelled at him for the third time, knocking him out of his trance. once he came back to reality, he dove into his lunch. his tongue lapped at your juices and teased your poor delicate clit.

sucking and spitting and licking and slurping, it was a mess. he even began to finger your tight cunt with not one not two but three fingers. digging his unnaturally long digits to the deepest parts of your pussy being sure to stimulate that spongey spot inside of you.

moans were spewing out your mouth as your hands ran through his damp hair. pulling at the white locks, your eyes to the back of your head as you delve in the pleasure. you were quickly coming upon your climax, and gojo knew it too. and not because you were violently squeezing down on his fingers. no. but because you were chanting it out as gojo finger fucked you with no mercy.

"cumming i'm... m'cumming toru fuck fuck fuck so close." you babbled and he smirked pulling of you puffy clit with a 'pop!' this was his entertainment watching you squirm as you creamed all over his fingers.

"cream on my fingers so i can clean it up for you," he tells you and you do just that as you cum violently. your eyesight is blurry as you see gojo looking down at you with a shit eating grin. he doesn't say anything as he slips out his fingers licking them clean just as he said he would. "so fuckin' perfect," he mumbled pulling your hips closer to him.

he pulled his boxers down, stepping out of them. his angry red cock slapped his navel leaving a string of sticky precum behind. his hand gripped the base of his cock slapping it against your clit. he chuckled watching your body react to him. he wasted no time using his thumb to push his cock head in line with your entrance.

"fuck." he grumbled from the feeling of your tight entrance trapping his tip. he fought the urge to cum right then and there. he pushed himself the rest of the way into you, bottoming out with nothing on his mind except you.

"s...shit toru you're too deep," you whined and he grunted pulling halfway out and slamming back into you. all the wind was knocked out of you as you gasped for air. followed by a moan that could probably be heard back at the mansion.

"so wet, squeezing down on me so tight," he hummed enjoying the feeling. after waiting for you to finally be ready, his hips snapped into yours. his pace was feral and needy as moans and groans flew from his mouth. his lips crashed onto yours, kissing you sloppily, spit spilling out of your mouths. rolling down your cheek and onto the bare skin of your chest.

that was one of the many things you loved about gojo, he was not afraid to moan. which only encouraged you to moan and whimper louder. it wasn't like you had to try very hard with the way he dug in your guts. so here you were, finally remembering how you got in this position. strip golf, never ever again, you thought to yourself.

while gojo was relentlessy fucking into you, his hips stilled. you were about to protest until he held his finger up to his lips. you quickly closed your mouth as well, hearing someone talking.

"today was supposed to be my day off, but mr. gojo asked me to tend the garden today." the person who you figure was the gardener said. gojo leaned down, covering your body with his.

"same, he asked me to clean the pool." the pool cleaner added. there was a line of trees next to the two of you, and it sounded as if they were behind them.

"my ass is out." gojo whispered in your ear with a light chuckled. you swatted his arm, light telling him to hush, but that only got him started. the motions were small, but you felt the way his hips ground into yours. the way his pelvis stimulated your clit and his dick pulsed in you.

"i guess we better get back to the mansion," another worker said, and you whimpered from the feeling. it didn't seem like they were really planning on going back. but eventually the footsteps got further away and you both loosened up. he quickly picked you up and sat on he seat instead.

"ride me... please?" he practically begged, looking up in your eyes. his bright blue eyes burning a hole into your face above his shades. you nodded shyly, always getting bashful when it was your time to be on top.

you wasted no time riding him slowly, teasing him with your deathly slow pace. his large hands gripped the fatty flesh of your ass holding on for dear life. his head was thrown back, jaw clenched as you squeezed down.

"you're driving me crazy," he grumbled lifting you and fucking up into you like crazy. your hands grabbed his forearm, begging him to slow down. "you gonna stop teasing me now?"

"m'sorry i'll stop i will," you whine and he eased up letting you take control. with your feet planted on the side of him, you began to ride him this time faster. the disgustingly loud 'plap, plap, plap' of your skin slapping was turning you both on. pushing you closer and closer to finishing.

you grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you. the way he licked his lips and bit his lower one to muffle his groans. it just made you desperate to press your lips and steal a kiss from him. but gojo was two steps ahead of you, noticing the way your sight was trained on his lips.

he leaned up, forcing his tongue down your throat. the two of you kissing sloppily swapping spit as your bodies were conjoined. one of his hands left your ass to reach between the two of you. using two fingers to rub your clit sending your body immediately into overdrive.

"close," you mumbled against his lips to which he simply mumbled 'mhm' against your lips. it didn't take much his pulling away from your lips to whisper a gruff 'cum'. even if he hadn't said that you were bound to cum right there and then. "fuckkk...!" you yelled your cream coating his cock and collecting around the base.

"m'right behind you baby shit i'm cumming." he groaned loudly as he shot his warm loud inside you. filling you up completely, not even bothering to pull out. he thrusted up into you a few more times being sure to stuff him cum all the way into your womb.

"you were right toru... the thrill of getting caught makes you cum harder." you huffed and gojo nodded.

"i told you years ago." gojo smirked, kissing your forehead, leaning back as you climbed off his lap. "you'll clean me off, won't you?" he asked, giving you those sickeningly effective puppy eyes. you didn't verbally comply, but he knew when you got on your knees, assuming the position. just like gojo earlier, not caring if mud would get on your knees.

"are we sick?" the poolboy asked the gardener who shook her head his fingers stuffed in her mouth. "fucking to our boss's son and his girlfriends moans."

sidenote: 

gojo’s hair was damp from thinking he was in high school musical 2, playing with the water and sprinklers, trying to make you laugh. 

[moonstruckme]

MAE! I have a request… <3 reader finds out Steve keeps Polaroids of her around different spots, like tucked in his wallet or the sun visor of his car or in his bathroom mirror

Thanks for requesting!

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 728 words

“You look like you just came from the movies,” you say. 

Steve turns his head to look at you over the top of his sunglasses. You grin. “I’ll have you know, these are Ray-Bans.” 

“Are you sure? Because they’re just like the ones they gave out for Jaws 3D.” 

Even with the dark lenses, you can sense your boyfriend rolling his eyes as he turns back to the road. “You’re just jealous because you didn’t bring any.” 

Caught. “If you were a gentleman, you’d give me yours.” 

“Sorry, baby. Driver needs to see the most.” 

“Fine,” you sigh, putting a bit of theatrics into it. You reach for the sun visor. “Don’t think I won’t remember this the next time you want a blanket at my place.” 

You flip the visor down, and a little plastic square flutters into your lap. You pick it up. 

“Hey,” says Steve, “that’s totally different. If you ran your heat, neither of us would need blankets. But if you want me to start bringing my own—” 

“Stevie.” 

“Oh, it’s Stevie now,” he mutters. 

You turn to him, holding up the picture. “When did you take this?” 

Steve glances away from the road for a second. “Oh. Don’t you remember? That was at the lake last summer.” 

You do remember, now. Steve’s no master photographer—the light refracts off the water, fuzzing the picture and obscuring parts of your face—but it’s clearly you. You’re standing waist-deep in the lake, clearly trying to splash Steve while cheesing into the camera. You remember the day, but not the moment. 

Steve brings that polaroid camera everywhere. You know where it is now, stowed in the glove box right against your knees. He takes pictures with it sometimes, but always stows them away immediately so they can develop somewhere dark. You haven’t ever thought to ask about them. Haven't seen one until now. 

“Why do you have this here?” you ask. 

“I just like to keep them where I can find them,” Steve says. “Hey, put that back when you’re done, will you?” 

You blink at him. “You mean there are more?” 

“Yeah, of course.” He looks at you again, eyebrows flicking up at the open curiosity in your expression. “You wanna see some?” 

“Yes, please.” 

“Alright. Put that one back.” He shifts in his seat, reaching into his back pocket. “I don’t need any getting lost.” 

You feel your lips tilt bemusedly. “You keep them in random places, but you don’t want them to get lost?” 

Steve digs out his wallet. “Nothing random about it. There’s a system, okay?” You reach for the wallet, but he holds it away. “Put it back.” 

“Okay, okay.” You grin, stowing the polaroid back where you found it before grabbing for Steve’s wallet. The worn leather parts for you easily. “Oh.” 

There are a few pictures in here. You holding flowers at the farmer’s market, you decorating cupcakes, you on your bed at home. Some have you looking into the camera, others not. In all of them you look happy. You think that’s probably how you look most of the time when Steve’s with you. 

“Steve.” Affection aches in the back of your throat. “This is so sweet.”

“It’s nothing,” he says. When you look at your boyfriend, you can see the faint tinge of a blush beneath the frames of his sunglasses. 

You gather the pictures carefully in one hand, using the other to link your fingers through his. “Why did you keep all of these?” 

Steve makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “What, I’m not allowed to want to look at you? Why would I take them just to get rid of them?” 

“I don’t know.” Your voice softens. “I just didn’t know you had all these. It’s cute.” 

Steve grins. He glances over at you once, then again, leaning over for a quick kiss. 

“Hey!” you laugh. “Eyes on the road.” 

“You’re cute,” he says.

“Yeah, you must think so.” 

“Don’t go getting a big head.” Steve uses your joined hands to tug on your arm teasingly. You let it draw you closer to him, smitten.

“Too late for that. You’re like my own personal paparazzi. You know I’m gonna have to start taking a bunch of pictures of you too, now, right?” 

“I don’t think you have to.” 

“Oh, I definitely have to.”

[nosyrobin]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑰𝑪 𝑫𝑰𝑪𝑲 𝑮𝑹𝑨𝒀𝑺𝑶𝑵 + 𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑲 𝑮𝑹𝑨𝒀𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑿 𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑭𝑻𝑬𝑹!𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑳𝑫!𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹⋆. 𐙚 ˚

pt.1 || pt2

☆〜 okay, so mark is stressed the fuck out. Not only that you have no recorded of living anywhere in the world… or planets. You’re actually some kid that has a crazy power to shift anything you want! Oliver didn’t know how to feel about you until you changed something he didn’t like into what he desired. Oliver immediately told mark that you need to live with them.

Your powers resembles Eve’s powers to a maximum, with how you shift things like oh the food you didn’t like was there so you shifted it into a nice Burger King burger. Mark was shocked before Oliver grabbed something and asked you to change it. You had told the family about your history with your powers.

Debbie couldn’t help but comfort you, mark felt bad that your powers go haywire at times. Oliver looked at his older brother and suggested why not just let you train it off. So the plan proceeded. You had some random clothing rag infront of you before you changed it into the hero suit you had before you left Dick.

You were now nine, living your life in this reality. You’re a protege of atom eve! And boy is it amazing! Even though Oliver makes fun of your hero name, you make fun of him. Ending up if you two rough housing, of course mark or Debbie had to break it up quickly before Oliver accidentally uses his strength.

You were practically the youngest sibling in the family of the graysons, which means mark is more nervous about having his younger siblings that have powers. Oliver can handle himself, Mark can trust him. Oliver has started to adapted to the human nature, of course you show Oliver your favorite things to make.

He once made something for you off of a video he saw on television. He was happy to see you smile and hug him, holding you in the right amount of strength as well. Mark’s eyes soften when coming home from a mission to see you and Oliver snoozing while science dog played in the living room tv. Although, the graysons have thoughts in their head….

What if you get forced into another universe… what if it wasn’t something safe. That really freaked Oliver out to almost a breakdown. He loved his new sibling! He loved how your powers and how you two would play around. He can’t just let you go! He holds you tight, his purple arms wrapped around you as he frowns. “Don’t leave us…” he says lowly before falling asleep.

Everytime Eve called mark, mark gets scared that you probably were forced into another place with your powers. Only to learn that most calls were due to Eve being impressed at how quick you changed a normal house into a unicorn! Eve had the most fun with you.

She practically loves you! She sometimes go into the house to see you creating random stuff like glowing lollipops, or even such as gummy worms that actually wiggle like worms.

Was kinda terrifying to have a gummy worm crawl to her, but at least your creativity was your main source of your powers. Mark and Eve already had agreed for you to just learn your limits and offense. Because of how you couldn’t just fly, Oliver had to pick you up and fly around. Sure you didn’t mind at first, til it got embarrassing at your older brother practically making fun of you.

“How’s the wind sparky, is it coool?” He teases as you huff, “Shut up!” Mark had to stop your bickering as Oliver tested to try and drop you…. Yeah he wasn’t going to but mark was really scared he might.

And just like before you spent months here, loving your new family. Loving your new mom, new brothers, new mentor, new everything. It’s like you practically forgot about your last life with dick. There were definitely brotherly moments where you Eve started to talk about dating to you.

You couldn’t help but giggle nervously, Oliver didn’t get it at first. He understood mating, yes. But that’s cause he understood that adults do it for their causes. But when it came to you, he didn’t like it a bit! Mark teased Oliver for acting like a big brother when another kid tried to talk to you with loveydovey eyes. And he didn’t like that! You’re young! You’re pure! You’re his sibling!

Oliver grabbed your hand and dragged you from the kid who was now heart broken. “What was that for Oli!?” “I didn’t like how he looked at you..” Oliver pouts as mark couldn’t help but laugh at this, but that before Eve elbowed him and mentioned this may happen when you’re a teenager. And suddenly this bitch locked in and became part of the “protect y/n” team.

If you had gotten bullied, oh boy… Oliver may snap. Mark knows kids are assholes, sure. But he and Debbie will be the civil ones to just sit down and talk to the folks of the bully. While Oliver is seeking for blood. He doesn’t play about his family.

Then suddenly it happened. All over again. Again. Again.

You were making confetti from the air as Oliver clapped his hands impressed. He floated a few feet off the ground and collected some, you both created a game called “Catch the Confetti” where Oliver would catch how many he can get and you both get to decide the prize. In the shared room of you both, a sparkling portal opens up.

Your eyes widen as you stopped creating the confetti. Oliver gasp, stopping to land on the ground. And then the hungry portal began. It started to suck in everything you own into the portal.

You screamed feeling yourself getting sucked in, Oliver screamed for you, speeding over to grab your arms. “No! Stay! You have to!”

He grits his teeth as he feels the portal get angry. You sob as you look at Oliver, “I don’t want to go!” “I know! I won’t let it take you! We haven’t gone to Tokyo and try your favorite cafe! We haven’t had a big sleepover yet! We haven’t played catch yet with each other! We haven’t….” Oliver felt his eyes tear up, you hated to see him cry.

And he hated to see you cry.. but you knew what you had to do. “You have to let me go.” Oliver’s eyes widen. “What!? Are you nuts?!” You looked at Oliver, and you looked back into the patrol. “I’m sorry…” you let go of his hands. Oliver tried to get you back, but you were already sucked in… the patrol closes just as Oliver reached out. Everything felt like slow motion.

Oliver fell on his face, getting up as he screamed your name.

Mark bursted in, late…. Late… late.. late.

Oliver turned towards him with sadness in his eyes, “They’re.. gone.. mark…” Mark’s eyes widen as he held Oliver tight to him. He knew you and Oliver were close. But this.. was devastating.

And now they wondered.

The graysons were wondering where the child could be….

TO BE CONTINUED

[thewritetofreespeech]

Steak & Blowjob Day

Mark Grayson x gn!reader

plot: I'm a devote feminist, but this boy needs a break. [smutty nonsense]

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

Mark tipped his head with a loud moan as [Y/N] took all of him down their throat again. Thank God they were at their place tonight.

When [Y/N] asked him to come over for a date night earlier in the week, Mark was of course excited. They tried to see each other as much as they could, but with their schedules and threats to the universe not really keeping an accurate time piece, they’d had more cancels than successes recently. Tonight, Mark made sure everything was covered and that he could spend time alone with his partner.

He even showed up super early. Which he knew was lame but he was just so excited to see them. When they opened the door for him Mark immediately stepped in and wrapped them in his arms. Breathing the first sigh of relief he felt like taking in weeks along with the scent of their shampoo.

“Happy Steak & Blowjob Day.” They told him as they hugged. To which Mark pulled back with a laugh as he asked them ‘what?’, and they responded with an eye roll, “Rex told me about it.”

They both knew not to take everything Rex said at face value, but [Y/N] told him that, just for today, they’d stick with tradition.

Mark insisted that they didn’t have to do anything for him. He didn’t want them to feel pressured into giving him anything, unless they wanted to. But, [Y/N] insisted that they wanted to and, “you’ve been working so hard and had so much to deal with.” It was honestly just nice to be acknowledged for that. “Let me pamper you for a change.”

Which brought them to where they were now. Mark seated at the table, his shirt pulled up towards his pits with his belt and fly open, and [Y/N] on their knees in front of him. The suction around his cock felt amazing! They were pretty active now at this point in their relationship, but still every time [Y/N] sucked him off he saw stars. And he had seen actual stars now.

“Fuuuck baby…” Mark groaned as he reached out to touch their hair.

They moan and take him in faster. Bobbing their head up & down over his cock. “Oh fuck!” He wheezed. “I’m gonna--!” He tried to warn them but the change in friction caught him too late and he came in their mouth. Luckily [Y/N] didn’t seem to mind.

They pulled off his cock, still hard and wet, and looked up at him from the floor. “You want your steak rare or medium?”

“Uh…mid rare?” Mark was embarrassed to admit that his cock jumped a little when they asked that. He liked to consider himself a modern, evolved man but god that was hot.

[Y/N] smiled and kissed his knee before standing up and heading to the kitchen. Maybe they should listen to Rex more often, Mark thought briefly. No. No. That was probably a bad idea. This time was good though.

[beforetimes]

Foaming at the mouth at the mere mention of role reversal Binghe and Yuan, don't mind me

Also don't mind me just spitballing here, you can take this as a prompt or not! But can you imagine Binghe's reaction to seeing Shen Yuan years in the future, probably still at Jinlan city? Not only is he taking in how different Shen Yuan looks, either in regards to how the abyss changed him or just how he's grown, but Binghe doesn't have prior knowledge that Shen Yuan would live through the abyss.

Can you imagine the shock? The misunderstanding as Binghe doesn't react to anything because he's still processing that his beloved disciple is THERE, he's ALIVE. He was though to be dead for years, but somehow he survived the abyss.

heyyyy anon so glad that i’ve managed to inspire the same obsession in you that’s spawned in me seemingly overnight. anddd i didn’t even consider the possibility of this scene when i came up with this scenario but let me try my hand at what it’d look like… also i know i wrote his name all as shen yuan in this but i only noticed after i finished and i don't want to rewrite. smile. enjoy!!

[og au post here!]

… 

Jinlan city carries with it a chilled breeze, curled up quietly against Luo Binghe’s skin under the edges of his robe, where flesh meets air. Face impassive, mouth a straight line and eyes heavy with poison-bourne-exhaustion only a few hours into the trip, everything spells out the path to his inevitable turning in for the night soon. The sun’s joined in his lulling to slumber, touching the horizon as the sky turns orange from blue. 

Luo Binghe drifts, a reed swaying in the wind by the riverside as he investigates the town, slipping away from Liu Qingge and Mu Qingfang to survey the ghost town in his lonesome. 

Everything is par for the course, almost mundane enough that Luo Binghe feels a muted frustration grab at the epicentre of his chest, wrapped around the raw meat of his heart. Always muted, desaturated and less than every sensation could be, as though Shen Yuan took with him a shred of Luo Binghe. If he were an artist, then Shen Yuan wasn’t just his muse but every hue of colour, enshrined in Luo Binghe’s memory in smudges of peach, white, green, and rosy pinks. 

Of course, Luo Binghe hasn’t felt like much of anything in a long time. Every day feels like going through familiar, pre-determined motions, drifitng in and out of classes with a commitment inspired in him that never possessed him before the Immortal Alliance Conference. Even this mission, a slight deviation from the norm, feels easy enough to slot into a quiet part of his mind, where everything mundane gathers dust. Months, almost years worth of memories tucked away in a damp corner. 

This should be more of the same. Luo Binghe is anticipating nothing else. 

Then—a figure bumps into him, bringing him to a stumbling halt. 

He’s practiced; the figure picks up speed when his gaze passes over them, so Luo Binghe pursues, numbness clenching at the hollow of his chest like a bird nipping fingers. Short bursts of static aimed at his hummingbird heart as he ducks into shadowy alleyways, a maze bringing him eventually to the second story of a seemingly-abandoned home. 

Hand resting on his sword, Luo Binghe creeps up the stairs. Opening to a room, his gaze skips over the furniture in his first sweep before he stills at the sight of the balcony. Silhouette traced against the setting sun, the figure lowers their hood as Luo Binghe unsheaths his spiritual weapon. Its hardly silent, and the figure’s face snaps over to meet Luo Binghe’s eyes. 

Lightning strikes, a shock to the heart. 

Shen Yuan exhales a moment later, and it hurts almost twice as bad. 

“Shizun…” He says, words so quiet he’s almost mouthing them to himself. Cultivation pulled from the equation, Luo Binghe doesn’t think he would have heard them. Here, however, they twist a blade into his palpating, trembling chest. “It’s really you here?” 

He opens his mouth but words loathe to creep past his throat and spill over his teeth. Luo Binghe can only stare, drinking in details he never dared imagine, his disciple last remembered bloodied and sobbing at the ridge of a gorge touched by years Luo Binghe thought Shen Yuan had lost because of his Shizun’s incompetence. 

Gone are the gentle greens and whites of Qing Jing Peak, replaced with navy blue, near black, and charcoal gray robes that layer over themselves thrice over, as though Shen Yuan tries to keep himself warm. His face lost its last vestiges of baby fat, severe green eyes dulled yet still imbued with life. Hair shiny, longer, left in a simple updo unbefitting of Qing Jing Peak’s strict standards. Luo Binghe’s mind wanders back to hazy mornings spent brushing his disciple’s hair before he’s forcefully yanked back to the present. 

“I suppose Shizun suspects this lowly demon to be responsible for the plague?” Shen Yuan asks, unsurprised yet words saddled with inexplicable defeat. “With word from Qing Jing Peak’s immortal master against this one, I suppose there’s no point in dragging out the inevitable trial, though Shizun can decide if this one should dare show his face to the other Peak Lords Shizun’s brought with him.” 

“Shen Yuan,” Luo Binghe manages to croak, mind speeding to such an extent that forcing words out feels like fighting past a hot charcoal shoved down his throat. 

“Or,” Shen Yuan continues, as though uninterrupted, starting to pace in a way so familiar and practiced that any imagined excuses of possession or imitation vanish themselves from Luo Binghe’s mind, “Or maybe Shizun wants to bring this stupid evil demon to the Sect Leader himself before executing him—maybe he wants to claim the glory of becoming Jinlan’s saviour, maybe—maybe Shizun wants this disciples head on a spike, or—“ 

Shen Yuan whips around, eyes burning into Luo Binghe’s with intensity that would unwaver him if he wasn’t already off-balance. Hazy and near-floating, feeling his heart beat outside his frail body. Despite the weight of it, there’s a vulnerable desperation that robs him of breath, too reminiscent of days Shen Yuan spent at the end of Luo Binghe’s bed on days where the world pinned him to the sheets without mercy. Violent and fervent hope seems to overtake Shen Yuan.

“Or maybe Shizun just—? WIll—this one knows that Shizun wants… But everything else has changed, I can— This one—Maybe Shizun wants me to live?” 

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Luo Binghe manages to say, and watches Shen Yuan’s expression freeze before shuttering, scrubbed away from a too-pale face and replaced with a jade-like twist to his lips so cold it feels as though it cuts at Luo Binghe’s skin. 

He reaches out and Shen Yuan flinches. 

You’re supposed to be dead, Luo Binghe thinks, standing days away from home yet able to feel the press of grass and stone under his knees as he stares at a solitary grave in Qing Jing Peak’s bamboo forest. 

You’re supposed to be dead, he thinks, watching Shen Yuan turn from disciple to stranger, any hope in his former student's shoulders deflating until Shen Yuan’s taking up very little space, completely unaware he’s done it at all. 

You’re supposed to be dead, Luo Binghe thinks, remembering every single conversation with Liu Qingge where they both quietly tell themselves there’s no body, there’s always a chance. They both knew they were lying to each other. I mourned you. I mourned you I mourned you I mourned you. 

In the same room, Shen Yuan retreats, and despite being closer than they have been in years, Luo Binghe can feel the channel of one-sided hatred between the two of them grow ever-deeper.

[keraawrites]

heyyy queen i js saw your workss & idk if u take requests but could you do a really REALLY obsessive eren with black readerrr?? 😭😭 your writing is really phenomenal too queen keep goinggg

You

Summary: You were his the moment he saw you. To you, it was fate that you met Eren, but to him? To him, everything was completely designed and manipulated by him. ۶ৎ Eren x black fem reader ۶ৎ

Context: Slight violence (Not to reader), reader is a single mother, stalking, obsessed Eren, emotional manipulation, unprotected sex, spying, missionary, doggy, cunnalings, oblivious reader, stripper, baby trapping

Babble; Hey girl, hope you like it x

Word count — 6.7k

The first time Eren saw you, he wasn’t even supposed to be there.

It was Connie’s birthday, a half-assed plan that led to a night full of neon lights, bass-heavy music, and the scent of liquor clinging to sweat-slicked skin. He wasn’t interested in the celebration, not really. But then, you walked onto the stage, and he lost the ability to focus on anything else.

You weren’t looking at him—you weren’t looking at anyone in particular—but that didn’t matter. Because from that moment on, you belonged to him.

He hadn’t planned on this. He wasn’t the kind of man to get distracted, let alone obsessed. But there you were, completely unaware that you had just changed the course of his life.

He came back the next night. And the next. And the next.

It’s pathetic—he knows that—but obsession is an ugly thing.

But Eren didn't mind being ugly for you.

At first, it was just about seeing you, memorising the way your body moved, watching the way other men watched you. But then, curiosity turned into something deeper, something darker.

Eren didn’t just want to watch you anymore. He wanted to know you.

So, he followed you home one night. Not too close, just enough to see where you lived. A small apartment on the outskirts of town, tucked between a laundromat and a corner store. He stayed outside for hours, wondering what you were doing inside. If you were alone. If you were thinking about him the way he thought about you.

Then he started digging.

He found out your real name, not just the stage one. Learned where you went to school, who your friends were. And then, one day, as he sat parked outside your apartment, he saw something that made his stomach twist.

A child.

A little girl, no older than three, holding your hand as you walked her up the steps.

Eren had never considered that you had something—someone—waiting for you. The thought made his blood run hot, his jaw tightening with something ugly and possessive.

But it didn’t change anything.

It just meant he had more to protect.

You huffed as you finally stepped off stage, rolling your shoulders to shake off the weight of another long shift. The night had been a successful one—money rained, hands reached, and men gawked. Same as always.

Sometimes, you hated yourself for it. Stripping for men who were married, engaged, or just too pathetic to go home to their girlfriends. Men who would rather throw money at you for a fleeting fantasy than put in the effort to love the women waiting for them.

But then, you remembered why you did it.

Your phone lit up the second you unlocked it, and the first thing you saw was a picture of your daughter grinning at the camera. A message from your sister followed right after.

She’s been out for hours; don’t worry, you can come get her in the morning.

You smiled, relief easing the tightness in your chest. You were a single mother, juggling work and school, and this was how you kept food on the table. Your friend Historia had been the one to convince you to try it, going on and on about the rich men who threw money at her just to watch her dance.

It was supposed to be temporary. A couple of nights, at most. But then nights turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and now you were one of the regulars' favorites.

Your gaze flickered down to the cash buried at your feet. You and the other girls were already counting your earnings for the night. Lately, you'd been raking in more than usual—not that you were complaining.

“And there you have it, folks—the best dancer out there,” Historia teased, nudging you with her shoulder.

You giggled, shoving her back. “Oh, come off it. There was a bachelor party tonight, and I did a lot of lap dances. It’s probably all from that.”

Historia hummed knowingly, looping her arm with yours as you both made your way out of the club. The bouncer nodded as you passed, and the two of you stepped into the cool night air, the scent of cigarette smoke and lingering cologne still clinging to your skin.

“I still don’t get why you park so far away,” you mused. “You do know we have parking, right?”

Historia scoffed. “Yeah, and if a guy sees what car I drive, he’ll be waiting for a ‘private lesson.’ I am not about to go to jail for killing some dude who can’t take no for an answer.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you walked her to her car. The streetlights flickered above you, casting shadows across the pavement.

By the time you started your own walk home, exhaustion clung to your bones, making every step heavier than the last. The streets were nearly empty, the silence stretching too thin. That was when you heard them.

Footsteps.

Your stomach twisted. You didn’t want to turn around, didn’t want to confirm what you already knew. But the panic creeping up your spine made your breath hitch, your fingers curling around the strap of your purse.

Before you could move, another set of footsteps cut through the silence.

A figure stepped between you and whoever had been following—a man, broad-shouldered, with long brown hair and piercing green eyes. He didn’t even look at you at first, just over his shoulder, gaze sharp and assessing.

Then, he turned, expression softening.

“You alright?” His voice was smooth, calm.

You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing. “I—I think that guy—”

“He’s gone now.” He offered you a reassuring smile. “You should be careful walking alone this late.”

Relief flooded through you, making your knees weak. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“Let me walk you home,” he said easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Just to be safe.”

You hesitated. You didn’t know him. But something about him felt… safe. Like you could trust him.

So, you let him.

Because the first time you met Eren Yeager, the alarm bells were silent.

He walked half a step behind you, just close enough that you could feel the quiet reassurance of his presence. Every now and then, your eyes flickered toward him, taking in the way the streetlights cast shadows across his sharp features. He was handsome—undeniably so—but there was something else about him, something that made your pulse stutter in a way you couldn’t quite place.

“I’m Eren, by the way.” He glanced at you, waiting for your name in return.

You hesitated for only a moment before offering it, watching as his lips curled into a slow, pleased smile. He already knew it, of course. Had whispered it to himself more times than he could count, tracing the syllables in his mind like a prayer.

“It suits you,” he murmured.

You laughed softly, tucking a loose curl behind your ear. “Yeah? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Eren shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Just… you seem like the type of person who makes a name their own.”

You huffed, shaking your head. “That’s oddly poetic for someone who just scared off a creep.”

A small chuckle left him, effortless and warm. “What can I say? I contain multitudes.”

The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a few blocks. He let you set the pace, let you feel like you had control of the situation—like this was just a chance encounter, a stroke of luck on an otherwise unsettling night.

And you believed it.

That was the best part.

“Here’s me.” You gestured toward your building, already fishing out your keys. “Thanks again for, y’know… all of that.”

Eren tilted his head, expression unreadable. “You don’t have to thank me. Just be safe, alright?”

There was something so genuine in the way he said it that you felt a pang of guilt for doubting him at all. You nodded, smiling as you stepped inside, giving him one last glance before the door shut behind you.

Eren didn’t move right away.

Instead, he watched as the light in your window flickered on, his fingers twitching at his sides. He could see the faint silhouette of you moving inside, hear the faint sound of your voice when you called your sister to check on your daughter.

It took everything in him not to stay there all night.

But he didn’t have to.

Because this was just the beginning.

And soon enough, you wouldn’t just see him as a stranger in the night.

You’d see him as exactly what he was—an irreplaceable part of your life.

Eren remembers when he saw you again by 'coincidence'. It was your local farmers market; the surprise was evident on your face, but he remembered the way your eyes shifted to him, the way he intrigued you.

"Fancy seeing you again." His voice was smooth, casual, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his expression—something unreadable.

You bit your lip to keep from smiling too wide. As pathetic as it sounded, you hadn’t stopped thinking about him. And how could you? Even now, dressed down in a grey tracksuit with his long hair tied back, he looked like he’d stepped out of a damn daydream.

"This is the closest farmers market to me, which I’m grateful for because of her." You gestured to your daughter, still knocked out in the shopping cart.

Eren’s gaze softened, something deep and unshakable tightening in his chest. She was so small, so peaceful—completely unaware of the man staring at her like she already belonged to him.

“She’s adorable,” he murmured, stepping closer. “Probably keeps you up all hours, huh?”

You huffed a tired laugh. “You have no idea.”

Eren hummed, but his mind was already somewhere else—picturing a morning where he’d wake up next to you, your daughter climbing into bed between you both, babbling about something only a toddler could make sense of. The thought was dangerous, intoxicating.

You grabbed a carton of strawberries, setting them in the cart before glancing at him. “So, you cook?”

A small smirk tugged at his lips. “Yeah, I like to.”

"That's impressive. A man that looks like you and can cook? You're a rare breed.”

Eren chuckled, but his gaze darkened slightly. You had no idea just how rare he was. No idea that he wouldn’t let you find anyone else like him—because you were his, even if you didn’t know it yet.

"Well," he shrugged, "if you ever want a home-cooked meal, I’d be happy to make you something."

You hesitated, surprised by the offer. “Oh, that’s really sweet, but—”

“No pressure,” Eren cut in smoothly. “Just putting it out there.”

You chewed on your bottom lip before glancing at your sleeping daughter. The thought of a meal you didn’t have to cook yourself was tempting—almost too tempting. But you barely knew him.

Still, the idea of seeing him again made your stomach flutter.

"I'll think about it," you teased, throwing him a look.

His smirk widened slightly. "That’s all I ask."

It hadn't taken long for you to text Eren, agreeing to your date. Not that he was surprised. Now here he was, standing outside your apartment, gaze softening as he looked over you. His head slightly tilted, taking in the sight of you.

"You look beautiful." He watched as you bit your lip, trying to hide the smile on your face as you let him in.

His gaze swept across your apartment—not out of curiosity, but habit.

Eren hadn't waited that long before he was letting himself into your apartment.

Not that he would call it breaking and entering.

No, Eren simply needed to make sure you were safe, that you and your daughter had a good place to live.

That’s what he told himself as he moved through your home like it was his own.

He had touched everything. Gone through your drawers, flipped through your mail, opened your fridge just to see what you had stocked.

He’d smoothed his hands over the bedsheets you slept in, pressed his fingers against the lace underwear folded neatly in your dresser.

And as he went, he left little pieces of himself behind.

Tiny cameras, nestled so perfectly in the corners of your living room, your bedroom, your bathroom.

Little windows into your life, allowing him to watch you at any moment.

He snapped out of his memory as he watched you move across the room. His eyes caught sight of your daughter’s toys neatly stacked in a corner, the small pink blanket draped over the couch—her little world, nestled safely inside his.

He brought his attention back to you, holding up the bag of food.

“I cooked enough for all of us,” he said. “Hope you don’t mind.”

Your eyes widened slightly before they softened with something warm.

“You actually cooked? Thought we'd just order takeout.”

Eren smirked. “Of course. Have to keep up my first impressions.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you led him to the kitchen.

Dinner went smoothly—better than he had expected.

Your daughter adored him, just as he knew she would.

She clung to him quickly, her giggles filling the apartment as he played along with her little games, asking about her stuffed animals like they were old friends.

And you—

You watched him.

You watched the way he handled her with ease, the way he cut her food into tiny pieces without a second thought, the way he was patient, gentle, attentive.

Like he had always been meant to be here.

When bedtime rolled around, you kissed your daughter goodnight and tucked her in, leaving just the two of you in the dim glow of the living room.

The moment stretched.

Neither of you moved to fill it.

Eren leaned back into the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, his gaze locked on you.

Your lips parted slightly; his gaze darkened as he watched your tongue poke out and wet your lips. Fuck, it was taking everything in him but you surprised him, you kissed him first.

It was hesitant at first, uncertain, but Eren felt the moment your body melted into his, the moment hesitation turned into something deeper.

Something desperate.

He pulled you closer, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your top, brushing against your bare skin.

A sharp inhale left you, your hands fisting in his hoodie as his tongue flicked against yours, deepening the kiss.

You let out a soft, breathy moan—fuck.

He needed to hear it again.

He wanted to hear it on loop, playing through the hidden speakers of his mind while he watched you over and over and over—

But then, suddenly, you pulled back.

Your face flushed as your eyes darted anywhere but him.

Eren’s jaw clenched as he watched you force yourself to put space between you.

"I-I haven't had a date in a very long time and I don't wanna fuck it up.”

His voice was smooth, controlled. “You're not gonna fuck it up mama, promise.”

You swallowed still avoiding his gaze.

But he reached for you again, cupping your chin, tilting your face back toward him.

He kissed you—soft this time, slow and lingering, like he was sealing something in place.

“I’d love to take you out again.” He murmured against your lips

You let out a breathless laugh, odding. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And just like that, he had you.

Right where he wanted.

Eren had taken you out again, and each time, he could see how deep your affection for him had grown. It hadn’t even been a full month since you started dating, but he could already feel the way you leaned on him, the way you reached for him in subtle ways.

The goodnight texts. The way you never let too many hours pass without messaging him. How you let him drop you off and pick you up from work without protest now.

At first, you had hesitated when he offered to pick you up. He saw the uncertainty in your eyes, the way your lips parted as if you wanted to say something but weren’t sure how. You were scared—afraid to tell him what you actually did for a living.

As if he didn’t already know.

But when you finally admitted it, the relief on your face was instant. His answer had been simple, easy.

"I don’t care."

And from that night forward, the bouncers got used to his face.

Your daughter adored him too. It didn’t take long for her to start calling him “Daddy Eren,” and something primal settled deep inside of him the first time he heard it. He was already so intertwined in your life, but hearing it from her tiny mouth, seeing the way she clung to him when he dropped her off at daycare, the way she begged for bedtime stories whenever he was over—it solidified something in him.

He belonged here.

And you didn’t even realize just how permanent he had made himself.

The buzzing of his phone pulled him from his thoughts, and his eyes darkened when he saw the picture you’d sent him.

A short, tight purple dress clung to your body like a second skin, hugging every curve. Your blonde braids that matched your skin tone perfectly, framed your face, accentuating the pout on your full lips as you posed just right.

Can’t wait to see you.

Fuck.

Eren exhaled sharply through his nose, already hard beneath his jeans. You had been loosening up over the past few weeks, your touches lingering longer, your kisses more desperate. Heavy petting and long make-out sessions had left him on the verge of ruining himself more than once.

He palmed himself roughly, groaning lowly as he brought your panties to his nose.

He had been in your apartment for a while now—long enough that your scent surrounded him, sweet and intoxicating. It clung to your couch cushions, the blankets draped over the side of your bed. His fingers ghosted over your belongings like a lover’s touch, reverent and possessive.

He remembered the first time he found your underwear. Delicate lace. Soft cotton. Colors he knew contrasted beautifully against your warm, deep skin.

The first time he rubbed the fabric between his fingers, then against his cheek.

The first time he brought them to his nose, inhaling you—raw, intimate, intoxicating. It had sent a shiver down his spine, his body going taut with need.

Just like now.

He exhaled sharply, stuffing your panties into his pocket before pulling himself together. He had to pick you up soon.

The drive to the club was automatic, muscle memory. He was there before your shift had ended, already seated in his usual dark corner.

He nursed a drink he never touched, eyes locked onto you.

He loved watching you work—loved the slow, teasing roll of your hips, the way you commanded the stage. He loved watching men reach for you only to be swerved, their greedy hands left empty.

Until he showed up.

Older. Cocky. Entitled.

Eren saw it the second the man got too close. You were used to this, flashing a polite smile as you placed a gentle hand on his chest to keep your distance. But he didn’t get the hint. He leaned in too far, whispered something in your ear.

You tensed—just for a second—before stepping back with a laugh that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Eren knew that laugh.

It was the one you used when you were uncomfortable.

His vision went red.

By the time he realised he had moved, he was already following the man.

The alley was dark, secluded.

No one saw Eren slip in behind him.

No one heard the struggle, the way the man choked on his own screams as Eren’s fingers crushed his throat, stealing the breath from his lungs.

No one noticed when he left the alleyway alone.

And when he returned, you were just finishing up, completely unaware that the man who had made you uncomfortable would never be coming back.

You smiled when you saw him, instantly walking into his arms. His place. Where you belonged.

“Hey, baby,” you murmured, voice sweet and warm, completely oblivious to the blood still drying beneath his nails. “Ready to go?”

Eren pressed a kiss to the top of your head, inhaling deeply, his fingers flexing around your waist.

“Always.”

Eren watched as you entered your apartment, he hadn't seen you in a couple of days. You had to spend the weekend with your mum and it was driving him nuts that he didn't have a visual on you.

Well, you did FaceTime and text him many times but he missed watching you move naturally.

But now his skin came alive as you entered the apartment. He remembers you telling him that you were gonna drop your daughter off at daycare before coming home.

The camera feed followed your every step as you dropped your bag by the door and headed straight for the fridge. Probably thirsty from the drive back. You sighed when you pulled open a stack of mail—bills, most likely. His jaw clenched at the thought. He had more than enough to take care of you. It was only a matter of time before he convinced you to let him.

The cameras shifted as you made your way to your bedroom, you phone steady in your palm but the minute you opened your bedroom door you froze.

His brows furrowed as he watched the stillness of your body. Your hands begin to shake as you fumble with your phone and run back into the living room.

Eren felt the buzz of his phone, his eyes darting to the caller before he shifted back to his computer.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted smoothly, as if he wasn’t watching you.

“Eren.” Your voice was shaky, laced with fear. “I—I just got home, and my bedroom window was open.”

His grip tightened around his phone. He knew you closed your windows when you weren't home, and he forgot to close it last night after he left.

“Are you sure you didn’t just forget to close it?” He kept his tone even, already anticipating your response.

“No, I know I locked it, I always lock it when I'm not home.” You insisted. “I’m freaking out. What if someone was in here? What if—”

“Hey, hey,” he interrupted, his voice turning soothing. “It’s okay. I’m coming over right now.”

You exhaled, the sound of relief evident through the phone. “I just… I need you Ren."

He could feel the blood in his ears, the softness of your voice went straight to his cock. He continued to speak to you, his car keys rattling in his hands as he raced to his car.

He could hear the way your breathing elevated; he could now hear the busyness of your street, knowing you stepped outside rather than to wait inside with a possible 'intruder'.

The moment he pulled up outside your apartment, his eyes immediately found you. You stood just outside the entrance, arms wrapped around you, shifting anxiously on your feet. The sight made something dark and possessive coil in his chest.

He stepped out of the car, and the second your eyes met his, you hurried over. Without a word, you buried yourself in his arms, clutching at his hoodie like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

Eren exhaled slowly, wrapping himself around you, his hand smoothing over the curve of your back. “I’m here,” he murmured, kissing your hair. “You’re okay.”

You nodded against his chest, but your grip didn’t loosen. “I just… I couldn’t sit in there alone.”

His heart hammered, his lips twitching into the smallest smirk over your head.

“Let’s go inside,” he said, guiding you toward the door. “I’ll check everything.”

You didn’t let go of him as he unlocked the door, staying close behind as he stepped inside first. He moved through your apartment with careful ease, playing the part of the protective boyfriend while discreetly checking for his own mistakes.

The cameras were still perfectly hidden. The small traces he’d left—your underwear he had pocketed, the slight shift in your blankets—none of it was noticeable. But the window. That was his only slip-up. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Eren double-checked every lock, every window, making a show of it just for you. He even peeked into your closet, your bathroom, anywhere an intruder might be hiding.

Finally, he turned to you, his expression soft, reassuring. “All clear, baby,” he murmured, brushing his fingers along your arm. “No one’s here.”

Your shoulders sagged with relief, your lips parting as you took a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

He could still see the uncertainty in your eyes; he didn't even have to say much, his hands steady against your waist as he eased you down. You were still trembling slightly, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt as you tried to steady your breathing

“I feel so stupid,” you murmured, as the movie continued “I probably overreacted. It was just a window, and nothing’s missing. I just—”

Eren turned to you, his hands palming the side of your face as he cut off your self-doubt with a firm look. “Don’t do that,” he said, voice low, unwavering. “You were scared. You did the right thing calling me.”

Your lips pressed together, eyes flickering with uncertainty. “Yeah, but—”

“No ‘but,’” he interrupted smoothly, his hands finding yours, thumbs brushing along your knuckles. “If you ever feel unsafe, you call me. Always. I don’t care what time it is, where I am—I’ll be here whenever you need me.”

Your breath hitched, your fingers tightening around his instinctively. He meant it. You could see it in the way he looked at you, the way he held you, the way he always showed up.

You leaned forward before you could second-guess yourself, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against his lips. Eren inhaled sharply, but he didn’t hesitate—his hands cupped your face instantly, deepening the kiss as his thumbs stroked your cheeks.

Your body relaxed against him, the fear from earlier melting away as warmth spread through you. Eren’s lips were slow, deliberate, savoring every second of your mouth against his.

But then you shifted, your legs parting slightly, and he felt the heat of your body through your shorts. A low, quiet groan rumbled from his throat, and his grip tightened, fingers sliding to the back of your neck.

The kiss grew heavier, needier, his tongue slipping past your lips as he guided you back against the couch. His body hovered over yours, one hand gripping the back of the couch while the other ghosted down your thigh.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured against your lips, voice strained, heated.

But you didn’t. Instead, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him back down, pressing your body flush against his.

Eren’s lips trailed down your jaw, hot and eager, teeth grazing your pulse as his hands found the hem of your shirt. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric, palms sliding against your soft skin as he pushed it higher—exposing more of you.

His breath was heavy against your neck, his body tensed with restraint. “You have no idea how much I missed you,” he murmured, voice thick with need.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, heat pooling between your thighs as his hands wandered higher, you bit your lip, arching into his touch.

“Then touch me,” you whispered.

Eren growled low in his throat, his patience snapping as his hands gripped your thighs, parting them effortlessly. His mouth found yours again, lips hungry, desperate, as he settled between your legs.

His hands slipped under your shirt fully, his rough palms skimming up the smooth skin of your stomach. He pushed the fabric higher, stopping just below your chest, his lips never leaving yours as he swallowed every soft sound you made.

You gasped when his fingers traced the underside of your breasts, his touch slow, teasing—driving you insane.

“Eren,” you breathed, impatience seeping into your voice.

He pulled back slightly, his green eyes dark with want as they flickered down to your parted lips, your heaving chest, the way your thighs instinctively clenched around his hips. His restraint was hanging by a thread.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice rough as his hands squeezed your waist, thumbs stroking your skin like he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

You shivered, arching into his touch. “Then show me.”

He surged forward, lips claiming yours in a kiss that was all hunger, all need. His hands finally moved, pushing your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor without a second thought.

His breath hitched when he took you in, eyes raking over your bare skin like he was committing the sight to memory. “Fuck,” he muttered, his hands finding your thighs again, parting them wider as he pressed his hips against yours.

You felt all of him. Hard, heavy, and straining against his jeans. The friction sent a spark of heat up your spine, and you let out a soft whimper that made Eren curse under his breath.

“Mama,” he growled, leaning down to press hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. He nipped at your skin, his tongue soothing over every mark, his hands gripping your waist like he was trying to ground himself.

His mouth traveled lower, over the curve of your breasts, his hands slipping beneath the band of your shorts. His fingers toyed with the fabric.

You squirmed beneath him. “Eren, please,” you whispered, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Eren let out a strained chuckle, his breath hot against your skin as he murmured, “So impatient.” But he was just as desperate. His hands yanked down your shorts in one swift motion, leaving you bare beneath him.

His eyes darkened, his tongue swiping over his lips as he took you in. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his fingers tracing the inside of your thigh. “You’re so beautiful.”

You whimpered, heat pooling in your stomach as he spread your legs wider, his body shifting lower.

“Let me taste you,” he rasped, his breath ghosting over your most sensitive spot. “I need to taste you.”

Before you could respond, his mouth was on you, and all coherent thoughts disappeared.

Eren groaned the moment his tongue made contact with you, his hands gripping your thighs as he pinned you down. His movements were slow at first—lazy, almost—like he had all the time in the world to savor you. He licked a long, teasing stripe before closing his lips around your clit, sucking softly.

Your back arched, a strangled moan slipping past your lips. “Eren—”

“Shh, baby,” he murmured against you, his voice thick with hunger. “Let me make you feel good.”

He dived back in, his tongue flicking and circling, alternating between soft licks and firm pressure. His fingers dug into your thighs, spreading you wider as he feasted on you like a man starved.

You were already trembling, your body reacting to him so quickly, so easily.

Eren moaned against you, the vibration sending a shock of pleasure up your spine. “So sweet,” he groaned, his tongue delving deeper. “So fucking perfect.”

Your hands found his hair, tugging at the strands as pleasure built inside you. “Eren—fuck, I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he urged, his voice breathless, desperate. “Cum for me, baby.”

With one last flick of his tongue, you shattered. Your body arched off the couch, pleasure ripping through you as he kept going, licking and sucking you through your orgasm.

Only when your thighs trembled and your breathing came out in shaky gasps did he finally pull away. His lips were slick, his chin wet, and the look in his eyes was pure, unfiltered lust.

“Fuck,” he breathed, running his hands up your thighs before gripping your waist. “I need to be inside you.”

You barely had time to catch your breath before he was on you again, pressing his lips to yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue, but you didn’t care—all you wanted was him.

Eren wasted no time, undoing his jeans with one hand while the other gripped your hip. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark, burning. “Tell me you want this,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Tell me you need me.”

Your heart pounded, heat pooling between your legs again as you whispered, “I need you, Eren.”

It felt like those were the words he had waited his whole life to hear.

In one swift motion, he was inside you, stretching you, filling you completely. A guttural groan left his lips as he buried himself to the hilt, his fingers tightening around your hips.

“Fuck,” he growled, his head dropping to your shoulder as he fought to keep himself together. “You feel so good.”

You whimpered, your nails digging into his back as you adjusted to the stretch. He was thick, heavy inside you, the perfect fit.

Eren pulled back just slightly before thrusting forward again, setting a slow but deep rhythm that had you gasping. His hands roamed your body, he could feel the ways your walls clenched around his cock.

Fuck. You pussy made the prettiest sounds.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to your ear. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice dripping with possession. “You belong to me.”

You could only moan in response, lost in the way he was making you feel.

Eren smirked, his pace picking up. “Say it,” he demanded, his thrusts becoming rougher, more desperate. “Say you’re mine.”

Your body was on fire, the pleasure overwhelming as you gasped, “I’m yours, Eren. I’m all yours.”

A dark, satisfied groan left his lips as he grabbed your thighs, pushing them up so he could fuck you deeper, harder.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, his thrusts relentless. “Now let’s see how many times I can make you cum tonight.”

Eren didn't slow down, not even when your legs started trembling around him, not even when you whimpered from overstimulation. If anything, it only spurred him on.

"You can take it," he murmured, his voice low and possessive. His hands tightened on your thighs, holding them up so he could fuck into you even deeper. "You're my good girl, aren't you?"

You nodded frantically, your nails clawing at his back as another wave of pleasure built inside you. He was relentless, thrusting into you with deep, precise strokes that made your head spin.

"Eren—fuck, I'm—"

"I know, baby," he groaned, his lips brushing against your ear. "Cum for me again. Let me feel it."

His thumb found your clit, rubbing tight, desperate circles that sent you over the edge instantly. Your whole body tensed, back arching as a loud, broken moan ripped from your throat. The pleasure was blinding, overwhelming, leaving you trembling beneath him.

Eren cursed under his breath, watching the way your body tightened around him, how your slick coated his length. "Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight," he gritted out, his rhythm faltering for just a second before he picked up the pace again.

You barely had time to come down from your high before he was flipping you over onto your stomach. A gasp left your lips as he pressed his body against yours, his breath hot against your neck.

One of his hands slid under your stomach, lifting your hips so you were on your knees, your cheek pressed against the couch. Then, without warning, he slid back inside you, dragging a long, needy moan from your lips.

"Fuck, you feel even better like this," he groaned, his fingers digging into your hips. He pulled back slowly before snapping his hips forward, burying himself deep inside you again.

Your hands scrambled against the cushions, your breath coming out in short, desperate pants. "Eren—oh my God—"

"Shh," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of your shoulder. "Just take it, baby. Let me make you feel good."

His pace was rougher now, more desperate. Your moans became louder as his cock kept hitting that spongy spot in your cervix. He was chasing his own release, groaning he looked down noticing how your ass bounced back against him.

He needed you to fall apart one more time before he let himself go. His hand slipped between your legs, his fingers finding your swollen clit again.

"You gonna give me one more?" he asked, his voice dark with lust. "I know you can."

You whimpered, to drunk on his cock to even remember nodding helplessly as his fingers worked you, his cock hitting deep, perfect spots inside you. The pleasure was too much—your body was shaking, your mind foggy, completely lost in him.

"That's it," Eren gritted out, feeling you tighten around him again. "Fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me cum—"

His hips faltered, and you felt him twitch inside you, his breath hot against your back. "Where do you want it?" he asked, voice strained. "Tell me where I can come, baby."

You barely had to think. "Inside," you gasped, your fingers tightening against the couch cushions. "I'm on birth control—just fill me up."

Eren’s movements stilled for half a second before he let out a dark, satisfied hum. His lips curled into a smirk against your shoulder.

Birth control? He let out a dark chuckle, finding it cute that you hadn't even realised the change in your little white pills.

eah, that’s what you thought. But weeks ago, he’d switched out your pills with regular vitamins, making sure every single dose you took was useless. You had no idea.

Something primal stirred inside him at the thought. You were his, and soon, you’d be swollen with his child, tied to him in the most permanent way possible. He had no intention of letting you go—not now, not ever.

"Good girl," he rasped, his grip on your hips tightening. "Gonna take all of it for me, huh?"

You moaned in response, pushing back against him, and that was all he needed.

The moment you came, Eren followed, a deep, guttural groan leaving his lips as he buried himself inside you one last time. He spilled inside you with a shudder, his hands gripping your waist so tight you were sure there’d be marks.

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was your heavy breathing, the soft hum of the city outside.

Eren pressed a lazy kiss to your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you as he slowly lowered both of you onto the couch. His body was heavy against yours, warm and solid, but you didn’t mind. You liked the weight of him, the way he held you like he never wanted to let go.

"You okay?" he murmured against your skin.

You let out a small, breathless laugh. "I think you broke me."

Eren smirked, nuzzling into your neck. "Good. That way, you'll always remember who you belong to."

You rolled your eyes, but the way your heart fluttered told you that maybe you liked hearing that a little too much.

Eren didn’t move for a while, keeping you wrapped in his arms, his fingers tracing lazy circles against your skin.

Then, after a long moment of comfortable silence, he murmured, “Move in with me.”

Your breath hitched, your body going still beneath him. "What?"

Eren lifted his head, his green eyes intense as they met yours. "Move in with me," he repeated, his voice soft but firm. "I don’t want you here alone. I don’t want you struggling with bills. I want you two with me."

Your lips parted, but no words came out. The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down your spine.

Eren leaned in, brushing a kiss against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Say yes."

He didn't even need an actual response; he could see it in your eyes, feel the way your body softened into him. You would say yes, because you were his. Entirely.

𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘢𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 ©

[demon-at-peace]

DP + DC Danny/Dick p2

so hello here’s a p2 of this, cause people wanted more and I thought it would be fun. You should probably read the p1 for it to make sense.

-

Jason spent several minutes staring at the driveway before he looked at the others wearing the same shell shocked expression. “Dicks dating someone?" he asks them.

"I guess?" Tim answers, "did you know?"

"Of course not!" Jason retorts.

"That's hardly the issue, we need to know who Richards paramour is," Damian announces looking stricken.

"Sh*t he's right, we need to give him a shovel talk," Jason agrees, "Babs did you get his face on camera?"

"Of course I did, and yes I've already run him, looks like he's dating one Daniel Fenton, living at 232 Anderson Ave, Apartment 24," she answers easily.

"Sweet, thanks Babs, come on Dami hurry up!" Jason yells as they pile into the car. They rip out of the drive way with almost as much speed as Danny had.

They make their way to the apartment breaking every possible speed limit. And clamber out in a rush, pushing open the doors and heading up the stairs. It's almost a race, Jason in the lead, Tim and Damian shortly behind them.

They burst into the apartment and are suddenly on the ground. "I told Danny this would happen," a young female voice says. Tim glares in offense at the green furry thing pinning them down.

"What is it? Jason mumbles as he tries to sit up but finds himself stuck.

"CUJO UP!" the voice yells again and the furry mass jumps up so they are able to sees it's a massive green... dog? "Small Cujo," the girl, who they can now see looks like adoption bait commands. And the dog shrinks. "Good boy," she coos. Then she trust to glare at them. "What are you doing here?" she demands.

"Who are you?" Jason asks instead of answering the question. "And what is that?"

"I'm Ellie, Danny's sister, or cousin, or maybe my daughter? I don't know? Our relationship is kinda weird, I'm here to prevent you from ruining his date though. " she crosses her arms "And that as you so kindly called him, is Cujo."

At his name Cujo jumps up growing bigger so he can plant slobbery kisses on her cheeks.

"I'm sorry about my brother, he doesn't understand animals are as intelligent as a human," Damian snorts. Jason groans, Damian's love for animals had clearly overpowered his urge to demand answers from the girl. "By the way what breed is he?"

"Actually just a normal German Shepard, his unusual capabilities is because he's a ghost," She explains.

"A ghost?" Jason asks bewildered.

"Oh crap he told you literally nothing, wait did he just speed off?" she asks.

"Yes," Tim admits with pursed lips.

"That's gold!" she cackles. "Anyhow yeah Cujo's dead, Danny's kinda dead, like died and came back, and died and came back, like a bunch so now he's like Schrodinger's cat, both dead and alive. I'm like that too, and so is Dan. Don't worry though Jazz is fully alive, I think.....:"

"What?" Tim asks just shocks.

"It doesn't matter," Damian waves him off and continues giving the dog scratches.

"Yes it does! She said that the dog's dead Dami!" Jason groans. "That dog that belongs to Danny, Dicks boyfriends, who we need to find?"

"Right," Damian agrees but doesn't stop petting Cujo.

"You really are an idiot," Ellie giggles "No way in hell are you ruining my brothers proposal," she glares.

"P-proposal?" Tim chokes out staring at her in shock. "What the heck? We haven't even met Danny?"

"Ugh DAN!" she shouts, within seconds an elder boy who looks just like her is there.

"Oh it's Dick's family, wait did you spill the bean about the proposal? Ellie come on, we told you to keep it quiet!" Dan complains.

"I'm a blabber mouth, you know that, I kept it from Dick at least," she pouts crossing her arms, Cujo leaves Damian and licks her face in an attempt to cheer her up.

"Tell us where they are? You all have clearly done something to Dick, he would tell us if he was dating someone!" Damian argues.

"... Pfft- AHAHAH" she cackles, "You think we did something to him?" she asks laughing even as she says it. "Please as if, your bats aren't you? You don't talk to each other, I'v heard birdy's rants," Dan rolls his eyes.

"See he wouldn't just compromise his identity to anyone!" Jason stares them down. "And why do you call him birdy?"

"Danny came up with it like four years ago, Birdy was showing of his tricks and Danny decided he must have hollow bones, so he's a bird, really he got lucky Danny almost called him Tweety bird instead of Silly bird." Ellie says with a grin.

"Fine we won't mess with it," Tim relents, "but we want some damn background information."

"Jazz," Ellie says at once.

Dan nods "We need Jazz, I'll get her." He salutes and falls backwards through a portal.

"What the actual fuck?" Jason asks, though Cujo jumps on him the second he swears. "Huh?" he asks dazed once again pinned down by the massive dog.

"Danny trained him to pin Dan down when he swears, apparently you look enough like him for Cujo to jump you," Ellie giggles.

"Get him off me" Jason grumbles.

"You can wait for Jazz," Ellie shrugs,

---

this was so fun to write, and It made my day, which consisted of a presentation I definitely failed, and a breakdown, so yeah glad i got to write this.

Also @itsbushytailedfox cause they wanted to be tagged if I did a second part.

Bye :)

[rottingghosty]

The Ghostling of Space | DC X DP

i’m working on the next part of the realms pr au trust me i am but i got this tiktok my fyp and suddenly i’m thinking of a NEW au for dc x dp. video is at the end i came up with this at 2am (like usual) so there will be errors

prompt: Danny’s the Ancient of Space, he spends most of his time floating around space because he’s on a vacation by his council to enjoy his life as a baby ghostling and a young prince since he’s still too young to rule so he has someone as a regent (not sure who yet). So he’s just going around, passing various planets and solar system. He’s essentially swimming around because he looks more like a mer than a human.

Danny should’ve realized that someone was going to notice him at some point, he didn’t realize it’d be a few years after Clockwork had spat him out in this universe. He’d been enjoying his time witnessing the birth of stars, of nebulas being born and the death of a solar system. The universe he was in made his core thrum with life, he’s gotten to feed it heavily that it puts his main obsession on the back burner. He skims his finger tips through the stardust of a star that had been born, molding and shaping it until it joins its brethren to form a constellation for the planet he was curled around.

The planet had no life yet but he knew that would change one day, he could feel its core yawning and turning. It’d get its push once Life had the opportunity to focus on it and breathe into the core. He was balance, his essence seeping into the planet’s core as he does his part of aiding the formation of a baby solar system. His body twists as he swims languidly through the vaccum as he does flips and turns. Moving through space with his newly formed tail felt like he was in the ocean, the movement so naturally and freeing.

It’d been when he finally drifted away from it and towards the Earth that was so similar to his back in his own universe he could never return that someone picked up his presence.

It’d been when he finally shrunk from his rather large size to something relatively smaller as he curled around a moon near Uranus. Away from any prying eyes as he allows himself to drift off into sleep.

It’d take someone to had been looking at one of Uranus’ moons to realize that something was curled around one, something large and green.

Captain Marvel could only stare in awe at the figure that curled around one of the moon’s of Uranus. The figure was beautiful, pale green skin that seemed to glow before dimming and brightening again. They seemed eel like if the way they seemed to move their body to curl around the moon of Titania. Where legs would have started, instead goes into an void of darkness, with a green glow that was a sickeningly shade of bright green that dimmed and brightened.

It was beautiful as it was eerie. The glow seemed to start from the hips and continued down its sides and tail, the fins flaring every time the creature seemed to breathe. A fin from at the top of the spine and continued down the entire back until it reached a stop before the end of its tail.

Captain Marvel knew that the other members in the Justice League were in awe just as he is, something about this being screamed otherworldly. It screamed magic and it made him very being thrum with energy he’s never felt before. He wanted to say something, to speak about what would be the best course of action to take to see if this being was a friendly or a hostile. Before he could even say a word, Constantine released a curse.

“Why is there a bloody baby ghost of the Infinite Realms here?”

TLDR: danny is very much a baby ghost prince living his life watching everything in space and making new things. he’s basically the equivalent of a baby god playing toys (planets and solar systems) and has no idea that he’s giving the JL and JLD a heart attack because oh my god that’s a baby ghost. but also OH MY GOD THAT’S THE BABY GHOST OF THE HIGH KING. still unsure who takes on the role for danny, pandora? cw? frostbite? a random oc? i know people use jazz as a regent but shes like a teen and deserves to live her life without having to deal with ghostly duties.

now danny’s got these people wanting to care for him cause he’s just out in the open in space and they don’t want the high king to get upset if their son is hurt.

(clockwork finds it very funny because if anything, they have to worry about upsetting anyone who danny deems as his)

[jraker4]

If you had said 'Hamas is Palestinian', I would've still pointed out 'that doesn't mean they're acting in the interest of Palestinians', but I wouldn't still be on this. You said they're 'definitionally Palestinian', whatever that means, which I took issue with because of the support they receive, without which they couldn't exist, from a foreign power with its own interests.

I know you said the words about condemning Hamas's violence, but even when you can be brought to do so, that 'condemnation' is entirely conditional. That's why it's a 'free pass or whatever'. Your hypothetical about Italians is...well, I actually wasn't expecting you to be another of the 'so ridiculously bigoted it's funny' sorts, but here we are. It's a ridiculous comparison. First of all, the comparison to Italian Americans is frankly stupid. Further, the notion that Jews weren't already there. Further, the blaming of the wars in the region in the early- and mid-20th century exclusively on Jews. Further, Italian Americans have no ties to Rome the way Jews do. Further, of course 'settler colonial' refers to more than just violence, are you serious? As I said, there are words that could be used to describe the sort of behavior you're talking about, but they're not 'settler colonial'. One cannot 'settle' one's own native land. Those are just some offhand ways in which your hypothetical isn't just stupid, it's laughably so. Tell me, though, in all seriousness: if Israel ought to be destroyed (excuse me, 'dismantled'), what does your 'support' for a Jewish right to exist mean, exactly? I suppose Jews in the region ought to submit themselves to Arabic rule, right? Great idea! Or they should return to where 'they came from', meaning I suppose from your stupid Italian-American hypothetical America and Europe I suppose. Or...what, exactly? Jews should go back to being stateless, perhaps? Who knows! As for South Africa, specifically I refer to the notion that South Africa itself supports genocidal, tyrannical actors in its own neighborhood, and is partly using its genocide case as a prop to deal with civil discontent. I don't claim that's the only reason, but rather part. I'll dig up some links on that. Also: is it your contention that South Africa still has apartheid? Palestinian civilian death tolls might also have something to do, aside from your contention 'bloodthirsty Jews', with the fact that those claiming to act in Palestinian interests continue to start wars in their own urban areas, and continue to operate militarily from civilian bases. But I don't need to actually ask to know how seriously you take the notion of, say, Hamas infiltration into journalist and medical sectors. Hell, you're at least honest about how much credit Hamas gets before any facts are even examined.

What’s more likely? Hamas killed two crucial bargaining chips, then, instead of simply saying the bodies were lost under the rubble, returned the remains proving they’d murdered them.

Or

Israel killed them when they carpet bombed Gaza, like everyone warned them would happen, lied about the kids being alive for over a year, are now lying again to invoke genocidal fervour and break the ceasefire?

This is the “40 beheaded babies” debacle all over again. The truth will be acknowledged eventually but by then it will be too late.

[lukohan]

Scipio is @vonspe s Rook.

A short fanfic of a funny scenario that i had in mind. Scipio just doesn't get along with the wisps. I wonder why...

They returned from yet another day of saving the world. After a quick debrief, Rook had retreated to his room in a hurry, which was a touch weird, but Emmrich didn’t think much of it in this moment, went to his own room thinking back of todays events. A couple of undead, some demons and of course a bunch of those unruly venatori. It was a fairly tiring day, but Emmrich was content, after all they managed to deal with a few problems and everyone returned unharmed.

Manfred greeted him with a friendly hiss, that turned into a concerned one right away. Emmrich looked down at himself and removed his coat. It was stained with some foreign blood splotches. “Worry not Manfred. None of this blood is mine. Most likely it belongs to one of those venatori we encountered today, truly the lot consist of only uncivilised fanatics.”

Emmrich was about to tell Manfred about today’s events when a few wisps came to visit. They seemed to be quite disturbed.

“Well good evening to you too. Oh, please, one at a time. I am afraid I can’t quite follow what you are trying to tell me.”

Emmrich tried his best to understand what they are trying to say, but they made it difficult by chattering over one another. At that moment one of the wisps tugged at his hair. Emmrich’s hand went up in reflex and he turned around to face the frantic wisp.

“Now, now, you lot seem to be quite restless. Perhaps you would be willing to show me, what has you acting like this. I think it would be quicker than me trying to make sense of your unintelligible chatter.”

The wisps flew out of his room right away and he followed them promptly. They made a sharp turn to the right and Emmrich walked into the corridor to Rooks room. His heart quickened with his steps. Why would the wisps lead him to Rooks room. The wisps liked Rook, so why would they be so agitated when leading him there. Did something happen to Rook? Did he miss something?

Emmerich didn’t manage to knock, the wisps simply opened the door for him. What he saw let him stop in his track. It took him a moment to take a deep breath and straighten his posture. He put his hands together in front of him and exasperated “Scipio!”

Scipio wasn’t too happy after getting back to the lighthouse. They had an eventful day with a lot of enemies and everyone came back exhausted. After a short debrief and the usual “good job today” he quickly excused himself and went back to his room. A good thing about crow training was, that he could move absolutely normal, despite the sting in his side, where a sword of some venatori had left a nasty cut.

He saw the wisp happily (?) approaching him floating around him all the way back to his room. He really didn’t have the nerves to entertain this now. He closed the door to keep it out, but of course a door isn’t going to stop a wisp. Fine, if it wants to see how he handles an injury who is he to stop it! Not like he can just ban it from his room. Maybe he should ask Emmrich for help with a ward or something… or something…

He took of his armour, good thing the blood isn’t visible on the dark colour, and takes a proper look at his injury. The wisp… the wisps! Why are there suddenly more of them. They seem to be curious about his wound as well. Scipio tried to get them to leave him alone and while they put some distance between them, they still hovered in his room. Scipio glared at them and after a few moments they actually finally left.

…

He grabbed a first aid kid, crow training made sure something like this had become a routine.

He was in the middle of stitching the wound when he heard steps approaching, quick and rushed. But he was in the middle of a stitch, he couldn’t just hide it right now, no wait, why would he want to hide it, why would he have to hide it. Damn crow reflex, trying to hide any weaknesses.

Just then the door flew open and Emmrich burst into the room, accompanied by the whisps. Scipio just froze for a moment like a deer caught in headlight. He swears for this brief moment where his brain was empty, he felt like he was a fledgling caught hiding something (he was trying to hide something though, wasn’t he). Emmrich’s exasperated “Scipio!” seemed to restart his brain and he made eye contact with Emmrich and quickly tried to reassure him “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“My dear Rook, if you have received an injury I would like to be informed. I believe I am fully capable to help you heal it.”

Emmrich walked over to him and Scipio was sure this would be accompanied by a lecture, and maybe he really should have gone to the Professor right away, but his first instinct was to treat it himself, and maybe he should really work on not acting on this specific instinct.

Scipio resigned himself to a lecture about seeking help or allowing help or something, but how did Emmrich figure out he was hurt in the first place. Scipio is sure he kept a perfectly straight face and posture while leaving the common room.

That’s when he saw it. Behind Emmrich.

A corner of Scipio’s mouth slightly twitched. Those damn wisps had ratted him out!

[tommydarlings]

Apocalypse | C.L

pairing: bbf!charles leclerc x verstappen!reader

warnings: reader under the influence of alcohol, mentions of sexual harassment, smut, soft&gentle!charles

w/c: 4.5k

summary: you were drunk, the little sister of a formula one driver and a hopeless romantic who hadn’t had any sex in a while — and maybe you also had a tiny crush on a specific driver in red who you coincidentally shared your favourite song with.

song recommendation: Apocalypse by Cigarettes after Sex

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +65 works) // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

Three Charles Leclercs… no, maybe two.

You weren’t sure anymore how many versions of that god forsaken man you saw but you were sure that it wasn’t only one at this point.

With wobbly legs and a tiny grin on your lips that you didn’t even really know where it came from, you stumbled over to your brothes friend before you crashed into his side as he talked to Lewis.

“Well hello you, little one,“ Lewis jokingly said with a giggle as soon as he saw you leaning into charles who quickly set his glass aside and caught your arms.

He was an asshole — but a caring one.

Charles looked down at you with furrowed brows, the loud music of the crowded club hurting your head as you tried your best to hear him over it.

“What’s gotten into you?“ he asked.

You grinned up at him, “clearly no dick lately which is actually-“

“Okay yeah yeah,“ charles mumbled more to himself before he told Lewis that he’s gonna take you him to which the Ferrari driver just nodded with his infamous smile.

Charles walked towards the doors of the club with you, dragging you by your arm but not in a way that it hurt.

He cleared his throat, “how much did you drink?“ the monaguesque glanced at you as he led you towards his Ferrari.

You sighed loudly before you groaned, almost as if you realised in what kind of state you’re actually in, “stopped counting-” but you only sighed again and closed your eyes as you two continued walking, “I actually never even started counting to be honest,“ you told him in all honesty.

Charles scoffed and shook his head, “I always have to take care of you at the end of the day — your brother is max verstappen! Can't he take care of you?“ he questioned.

You smiled briefly, “c’mon… don’t lie to me,” you looked up at him as you reached his car,

“you enjoy taking care of me, just admit it!“

He looked down at you and rolled his eyes with a sigh, “get in,“ he demanded as he opened the passenger door.

You two never really got along, at first you didn’t mind each other but then you just started bickering like teenagers and ever since then you simply disliked each other… did you still think that he was secretly one of the most attractive man you ever laid your eyes upon? Of course.

As you sluggishly got into the passenger seat of his car, Charles nonchalantly raised his hand and put it onto the bottom part of the roof of his Ferrari so you wouldn’t hit the top of your head.

But in your drunken state, you didn’t even notice the caring gesture — you sat down in the passenger seat and grinned up at him as he slammed the door shut.

“Why are you even taking me home? I’m not tired, you know?“ you looked at him as he hoped into his seat.

The Ferrari driver sighed again and started to drive the car into the direction of your flat, his eyes focused on the road while yours where still focused on him, “you’re wasted-”

“I’m not wasted, charlie!“ you interrupted him with a gasp.

He scoffed and almost cracked a little smile at the nickname, “stop calling me that.“

You grinned from ear to ear and leaned over the middle console, “why? I think the name fits you really well, charlie.“

Your 'caretaker' of the night rolled his eyes, “I think it sounds ridiculous, so quit it, yeah?“ he glanced at you for the first time since you got into the car.

You noticed his intense gaze on you for a few seconds before you looked away, both of you embarrassingly blushing a tiny bit now.

After a couple of minutes, you spoke up again,

“I’m cold,“ you sighed quietly before you hugged your figure, you were only wearing a rather short dress.

Charles sighed and briefly closed his eyes before he cleared his throat, “There should be a hoodie laying on the backseat,“ he mumbled in a deep tone, his eyes looking straight ahead.

You swiftly unbuckled your seatbelt and got your knees up on your seat before you turned around and grabbed the big piece of clothing.

But both of you knew that you were a tease.

So you stayed in that bend position for a bit longer and slowly wiggled your ass for a few seconds.

And as soon as he noticed that you did all of this on purpose, he gulped before he released he deep breath, his fingers wrapping tightly around the wheel, his knuckles turning white at this point.

“You got it?“ he asked, his eyes trying his best to keep his eyes on the road and not the curves of your ass and hips.

You smirked, the hoodie obviously still in your grasp, “mhmm, I can’t find-”

“Sit back down,“ he demanded suddenly.

You gulped now as well, “But I-”

“Sit. back. down. now,“ Charles told you, his tone still deep and demanding and this time you obeyed and slowly sat back down.

After you quickly put the hoodie over your head, you looked at him again, it’s almost as if you couldn’t get enough of staring at him.

“Something on my face?“ he asked quietly, his tone sounding softer again.

You grinned again, it was that typical girly grin you always wore when you were drunk, “yeah, a bit of a pink blush, leclerc,“ you whispered.

He briefly glanced at you before he adjusted his posture in his leather seat and put his eyes back on the road ahead, just shaking his head.

The rest of the ride was silent, you unintentionally nuzzled more and more into his hoodie as you kept your eyes on your window, watching the other cars and buildings pass by.

———

“You got your keys?“ Charles asked you as you both walked towards your front door of your apartment.

You nodded, “yeah, of course,“ you got your keys and unlocked the door before you both walked into the direction of the elevator, to your surprise it was pretty filled up with other people that lived here with you.

Charles stepped into the elevator as well, being right behind your smaller figure as you tried to squeeze into an empty corner with him.

To your surprise, Charles gently placed his hand on your lower back and led you into that one corner, staying very close to you.

As the elevator closed its doors and took off, some old man — that you’ve only seen a couple of times before, scooted closer to you…

You gulped and glanced up at Charles who already narrowed his eyes at the old man and in the surprisingly softest way possible, slowly put his hand around your waist and pulled you closer to him, your hands unintentionally landing on his chest as the side of your face grazed his shirt.

Very gently, you fisted his shirt and leaned a tiny bit more into him, both of you now crammed up in this one little corner.

You two were never this close before, and you honestly thought that you’d never be this close to each other.

“Just stay close, yeah?“ Charles whispered, his hand now holding your waist a tad tighter, pulling you impossibly close to him.

As your hands slid unintentionally down to his abs, you sighed quietly, “where else should I go, hm?“ you raised your brows as your fingertips felt his muscles.

He even smirked for a quick second, his eyes still on the older man though, “touché,“ your brother's friend nodded.

But suddenly, the older men took a step closer to you, his eyes shamelessly scanning your legs that were a bit exposed due to your dress and Charles’s hoodie which were both not very long.

You gulped and immediately leaned more into the formula one driver's chest but Charles had other plans.

His hand left your waist and he carefully shoved you into the corner behind him before he stepped in a protective manner in front of you, his eyes staring straight ahead at the older men, his facial expression pretty tense.

And even though he wasn’t saying a single word to the annoying man next to the two of you, his eyes clearly spoke volumes.

You gulped and bit your lip, really trying your absolute best to hide a grin before you tiredly leaned against his muscular back.

Luckily, the older man finally got the message and cleared his throat before he turned his back to charles.

Disgusting male creatures, or animals you would rather say — you rolled your eyes.

Then you looked up at charles again after he turned around, your hands laying lightly on his chest.

Men — you grinned for a split second.

Not even a minute later you were able to walk out of the elevator, your brothers best friend walking behind you again, his big hand hovering over the small of your back.

After a few stumbling steps, you finally reached your apartment door and unlocked it, still swaying a bit from side to side but charles was caring enough to put his hands on your waist each time you almost fell to the floor,

“Be careful, please…“ he told you in a quiet but warning kind of tone.

You giggled before you walked inside your apartment, charles following you and closing the door behind him.

You swiftly locked it again before you threw your keys onto the nearest surface and messily took your heels off, almost falling once again.

“Careful, I said!“ he scolded you like a child as he caught you by your waist before he sighed and picked you up, carrying you over to the couch where he gently sat your figure down.

You mumbled a quick, 'thanks' before you also removed your second heel and tossed them carelessly to the side.

Charles crossed his arms as he watched you as you closed your eyes and leaned backwards, seeming pretty exhausted.

Your dear caretaker cleared his throat, “so you’re just gonna lay here now and wait until you fall asleep?“

You shook your head and looked up at him,

“No… I actually want to take a bath,“ you replied quietly but in a serious tone, you weren’t joking around now.

He raised his brows in surprise, “A bath? A hot bath? Right now? While I’m here?“ he wanted to clarify if you even understood what you just said to him.

You nodded and hummed, “yeah, I really need that now,“ you said under your breath.

Charles glanced at his watch, “it’s almost two in the morning,” his tone got quieter.

But you only shrugged, you knew it was pretty late already but you simply didn’t care.

Charles sighed before he slowly walked towards your bathroom, “yeah, c’mon, get up.”

You grinned up at him before you slowly lifted your arms up — you were rather demanding and stubborn when you were drunk.

Charles closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “I know you’re drunk but you can’t be that-”

But you only leaned forward and lightly smacked his chest — which was secretly just an excuse to touch his muscles again but he didn’t need to know that.

“Ow!“ he furrowed his brows for a second before he released a long sigh and picked you up — and god was it hard to hide your giggle as he carried you almost like a child towards your bathroom.

“You’re just like your brother, you know that? Extremly stubborn and wants everything to be handed to her on a silver platter,“ he mumbled more to himself as you put your arms properly around his strong neck.

“We’re siblings, charlie,“ you heard him scoff at the nickname but you just continued, “of course we act the same,“ you clapped back.

Charles stepped into the bathroom with you in his arms and quickly filled your bathtub with hot water.

You watched him, still clinging onto him like a little girl even though you would have never clung onto him like that if you were sober,

“Can you add some bubbles?“ you pointed at the bottle with the lemon scent.

The formula one driver set you carefully down onto the floor before he added some bubbles.

He focused on the bubbles slowly covering the water, “you can undress yourself, I won’t look I promise,“ he murmured under his breath.

You gulped before you slowly removed his big hoodie and your dress.

Then you just stood there and watched how he slowly ran his hands through the steaming water before you unhooked your bra and took your panties off, putting the small pile of clothes to the side for now.

After a couple more seconds, Charles finally stood back up, his eyes still trained on the bathtub before he wiped his hands on a towel, “I’ll wait outside, okay?“ he asked quietly.

You nodded, “yeah,“ you whispered before you walked towards the tub — Charles swiftly turned around and walked with slow steps towards the door as he heard you stepping into the hot water behind him.

Just when his hand touched the door handle, your words made him stop in his tracks,

“Charlie?“ you loved the nickname, you couldn’t help it, “can you stay here with me? Next to the tub? I don’t want to be alone right now,“ you whispered so quietly he almost couldn’t understand you properly.

You weren’t sure if you just craved his presence because you were drunk or if you actually needed him by your side now.

You only knew that it started to hurt in your chest as soon as he stepped towards the door.

Charles's hand slowly slipped off of the handle before he turned his head, eyes still trained on the floor,

“Are you sure? You’re dru-,”

“I’m sure, charles,“ you told him quietly, your arms resting on the edge of the tub.

He cleared his throat and slowly nodded before he turned around and looked at your figure hiding beneath the bubbles, his eyes darkening for a brief moment before he stepped towards the bathtub.

He crouched down next to you, his eyes staying straight on your face, not daring to look elsewhere.

You looked at him with doe eyes, your chin laying comfortably on your arms.

“Why?“ he suddenly murmured, his eyes glancing at your lips, your eyes too mesmerising for him.

You still had a bit of alcohol in your system so you smirked and god it drove your brothers best friend wild, “Why what?“ you whispered.

Charles sighed, “Why all of this? Why did you fall in my arms tonight? Why-”

“Because you have the only pair of arms I would allow to catch me,“ you interrupted him in a soft tone.

He almost gasped at your words, his body sinking to his knees now, his face at the same level as yours, “and why do you want me by your side now?” He asked with his brows furrowed.

With a tiny smile, you answered his desperate question,

“I don’t want you,“ he was almost not even able to hear your voice, “I need you — I feel like I fucking need you and I don’t even know why.“

You still couldn’t stop smiling a tiny bit, your own words sounded crazy and you knew that but you also couldn’t lie to him, you couldn’t hide your feelings, you were always bad at that.

The formula one driver gulped, his eyes still not going any further down than to your lips.

“You’re my best friends sister,“ charles mumbled, probably talking more to himself — but you only nodded,

“I know,“ you replied quietly, “I may be younger but I’m not dumb, charlie.”

Charles sighed and shook his head, “What do you expect from me now?“ his voice was embarrassingly quiet as well, as if you were both scared to speak up.

You smiled softly and tilted your head to the side before you started to hum a song, your eyes glancing down at his lips.

The formula one driver briefly furrowed his brows as you started to hum a well known song, “apocalypse? Cigarettes after sex?“

You nodded, “you know that song?“

He nodded as well before you spoke up again,

“How do you know it?“ you looked into his gorgeous eyes again — Charles averted his gaze from your face,

“Well it’s your favourite song isn’t it?“ he whispered, making your brows shoot up in surprise.

You cleared your throat, “yeah… it is,“ you nodded along before you grinned at him again,

“Wha-“

“You leapt from crumbling bridges watching cityscapes turn to dust,“ you suddenly started singing in a hush tone.

Charles chuckled and shook his head, “I’m not singing, there’s-”

“Filming helicopters…“ you waited for him to continue the line — and as soon as he looked into your eyes, the entire song began to play in his head,

“Crashing in the ocean from the way above,“ — he continued in a hush tone, his brows slightly furrowed.

You nodded with a tiny blush, “Got the music in you, baby, tell me why.”

He cracked a smile, “Got the music in you, baby, tell me why,“ he glanced at your lips before back into your eyes.

“You’ve been locked in here forever and you just can’t say goodbye,“ you also found yourself glancing at his lips.

He sighed, but it was more of a happy sigh, maybe mixed with a bit of 'what-the-hell-am-I-doing-here?',

“Kisses on the foreheads of the lovers wrapped in your arms,“ Charles slowly leaned in pressed his lips ever so gently against your forehead.

You smiled before you simply continued, trying your best to get the words out without stuttering, “You’ve been hiding them in hallowed-out pianos left in the dark.“

Charles closed his eyes, his forehead barely touching yours as his hand was softly laying on the back of your wet neck, “Got the music in you, baby, tell me why,“ he whispered.

You dared to lean in a bit more, the tip of your noses touching each other, “Got the music in you, baby, tell me why.”

“You’ve been locked in here forever, and you just can’t say goodbye,“ he went on, not moving an inch away from your face which was dangerously close.

With slightly dilated pupils, you glanced up at him, “your lips, my lips, apocalypse,“ you grazed your lips carefully against his.

It was like a cat caught his tongue for a short and sweet second before he actually continued letting the romantic words roll off of his tongue, “your lips, my lips, apocalypse.”

And then he finally made it happen, he tenderly crashed his soft lips against yours, it was slow and almost careful but still with a hint of something you were only able to call desperation.

At the first connection you pulled your head back a tiny bit but Charles chased your mouth as if it was the only thing keeping him alive at this point.

At the second connection of both of your lips, you leaned in, almost making him fall backwards but he quickly held onto your slightly wet elbow and leaned in as well, your noses squished against each others but you couldn’t care less at the moment.

And at the third connection you both smiled, grinning against each others lips as if you were two teenagers that just shared their first kiss.

And then the distance between you two suddenly bothered you — so you grabbed him by his upper arms and awkwardly pulled him with all your strength into the tub with you.

“What are you-? No!“ but it was too late already, his clothed body landed on top of your soaked and bare one, his hands going to either side of your hips to steady himself, his forehead clashing lightly against yours but you didn’t mind.

And you only laughed unstoppably, throwing your head back in ecstasy, your arms around his neck, soaking his skin and the top of his shirt.

And god he wanted to have the sound of your sweet laugh to be stuck in his head for forever and ever, until death comes and collects him.

“Oh god!“ he laughed loudly as well, joining your sweet melody before he put one of his wet palms onto your waist under the hot water, his fingers digging lightly into your skin.

Then you looked at him and crashed your lips eagerly against his once again, your palms cupping his cheeks.

And he did the same, kissing you with tenderness but still hungrily while the water in tub swayed from side to side next to your bodies.

Obviously the floor was a bit wet now as well from when you pulled him so swiftly into the tub with you but you decided to take care of that later, you were way too busy with him now.

You giggled against his soft lips, “sorry, I couldn’t help it!“ your thumb stroked his cheek.

Charles shook his head and smiled as well, his dimples showing the cutest way possible, his hand that is under the hot water and placed gently upon your skin not daring to go any lower.

You always knew that he was a gentleman.

As he felt your thumb stroking his skin, the thumb that’s laying on your waist also started to slowly caress your wet skin,

“It’s okay, you just surprised me a bit because I didn’t expect it,“ he mumbled against your lips before he kissed them again.

The two of you continued making out like teenagers that were hopelessly in love — maybe you two were but it was probably still too early for that — but then he slowly scooted back on his knees and pulled you with him so your naked and wet figure was sitting comfortably on his lap.

You bit your lip as you bare pussy touched his pants, your hands slowly going down to his belt, “off?“ he asked quietly.

And you only nodded with a quiet whine — the next thing you knew was that he unhurriedly opened his belt and slid his pants and boxers down, just enough to free his already hard cock.

You shortly looked down and aligned your entrance with his already leaking tip — but before you could sink down on him, Charles gently grabbed your chin and made you look into his eyes,

“Want you to look at me,” he mumbled before he helped you sitting down on him, his palms softly squeezing your hips.

While you bit your lip and only groaned quietly, Charles quickly parted his lips and released a deep moan, his brow furrowed as he looked at you with desperate eyes, “oh my god,“ he threw his head back.

“Wanted this for so long,“ you leaned forward and kissed his exposed neck, slowly bouncing up and down on him, your hands on his broad shoulders.

He wrapped his arms around your wet waist and pulled you closer, your breasts lightly squished against his still clothed chest, “me too, god,“ he groaned and bit your shoulder.

After you started whining at the deep sensation, you hugged his head, forcing the formula one driver to bury his face into your neck which he obviously didn't complain about.

“Tu te sens si bien, chérie,“ you feel so good, sweetheart, the monaguesque moaned quietly into your ear.

You gulped before you lightly parted your lips and gasped — did he just really call you sweetheart?

You continued moving up and down on his slick cock, your fingers pulling lightly on the hair on the back of his head, “did you just call me sweetheart?“

With teary eyes but a tiny smile, you turned your head to look at him, “hmm?“ you needed an answer.

Charles gulped heavily before he finally answered, his voice quiet and deep,

“You know I did, don’t act like you don't,“ he grinned a bit, his wet fingertips running along your bare back, his lips going back and forth on your collarbone.

You nodded before you whimpered, your hands going down to his shoulders again while his big hands went down to your hips, his fingers squeezing your lower back.

It was really funny to you how he didn’t dare to touch your ass yet, or generally go any lower with neither his hands nor his gaze.

But then you suddenly felt his lips softly kissing the top of your breasts, kissing your wet skin each time you sank down on him, there and then still releasing a deep moan.

In the meantime, you buried your face in the top of his head, his soft hair touching your cheek, nose and mouth.

Charles switched between kissing your right and left breast, “don't stop please,“ he squeezed his eyes shut and growled quietly, making you smirk a bit before you groaned as well.

“I won’t,“ you shook your head with a whine, it was all very gentle and loving but the sounds of your wet hips slapping together was more than sinful.

Your legs trembled under water, your wet hands cupping his cheeks to lift his face so that you could kiss him slowly.

Charles raised his brows in surprise as you softly connected your lips with his, his big hands running along your back as your movements stuttered a bit due to how close you were.

And he noticed, “me too, I’m so close,” he nodded along his words, his brows furrowed, his plumb lips parted and his hands gripping your waist and the back of your neck tighter.

“Oh, fuck!“ you moaned against his mouth, your orgasm crashing over you like a tsunami while Charles groaned deeply and panted heavily, his high also washing over his entire body with surprising intensity.

The formula one driver ran his fingertips down your back, taking deep breaths to calm himself down as you continued occasionally clenching around him, “Everything okay?“

You slowly nodded into his neck, “yeah, I’m… perfect,“ you smiled a bit and turned your head to look at him, one of your hands cupping his cheek.

His little dimples were on full display again as he smiled up at you, his thumbs gently stroking your hip bones, “Tu es si belle,“ you’re so beautiful, the monaguesque mumbled under his breath.

You furrowed your brows with a grin,

“I-,“ you laughed, “I don’t understand any french, charlie!“ you playfully smacked his wet chest, “what did you just say?“

He ironically wiggled his eyebrows, “who knows?“ Charles chuckled — you rolled your eyes and bit your lip before you rolled your hips under the water, obviously wearing a cocky smirk while doing so.

Charles gasped for a brief second and glanced down before he put his eyes back on your pretty face, brows furrowed and lips parted, just like earlier.

Wow, you literally only rolled your hips.

“I said you’re beautiful!“ he quickly blurted out, his wet hands squeezing your hips.

You bit your lip and giggled, “well thank you baby,“ you pecked his lips but he swiftly pulled you closer for a proper and deeper kiss.

[cyberyam]

Has anyone ever asked for Jinwoo taking reader's vcard:0?

an. sorry about the long wait! i’m just gonna give the teaser :P

Jinwoo, who wanted to make it special, something unforgettable, something worthy of you. He had everything planned out, but you—with your restless desire—made things complicated.

Jinwoo noticed the way you shifted closer when he sat beside you on the bed, trailing fingertips over his wrist, pressing warm, lingering glances and kisses into the curve of his throat. The way you would wear only a low cut tank top and underwear when it was just you two alone. The way you would press against him when you were both cuddling to watch a movie while he was spooning you. You weren’t subtle, and his resolve wasn’t entirely stone.

Jinwoo, who, when you first time you tried to seduce him, almost gave in. The way you whispered his name, your breath featherlight against his ear as your arms snaked around his neck when he came over—it rattled something deep inside him. But he only exhaled slow, jaw tight as he pulled away. “Not yet,” he murmured, though his hands trembled when they left your waist.

Jinwoo had everything planned. A getaway—weeks in the making—at a hotel with silk sheets and a skyline view, a place where he could take his time with you, where he could make sure it was perfect. But it was still two weeks away, and you weren’t making this easy.

Jinwoo, who felt his whole were shatter the moment you muttered, “It feels like you don’t even want to touch me,” after he gently pushed you off one lazy Saturday. The words that left you were quiet, small, and something inside him twisted when your voice cracked. He barely remembered moving—just the sudden heat of you beneath him, the way your breath hitched as he pushed you down onto the bed.

“I don’t want to touch you?” He asked after planting a long, lingering kiss on your lips. “All I want to do is touch you.”

Jinwoo, who gently caressed your face as his lips found yours again, this time rougher, more urgent. “I wanted to wait,” he rasped between kisses, voice thick with restraint, untangling into something desperate and raw. “But you’re making it so damn hard.” His hand tangled in your hair, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

“Every time you wear those damn short shorts,” he peppered a kisses on your cheek. “Every time you rub yourself against me while we’re cuddling,” more kisses followed, this time along your collarbone. “Every time you look at me, with that—that look,” he now brought himself higher, his gentle lips leaving your skin and now brushing against your ear. “It makes me want to do a whole lot more than just touch you.” His breath was hot, making your body shiver.

“Then why are you making me wait? You know I want this.” Your voice was meek, too shy to look into his eyes that you could now feel were staring down at you.

Jinwoo, who felt immense guilt rising in his stomach, removed himself off of you and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “I booked a hotel—two weeks from now. I wanted to surprise you.” A pause, he ran his hands over his face with a groan. “I wanted to make your first time special, but I just ended up hurting you instead.”

“No!” You yelped, moving to kneel behind him so you could wrap your arms around his waist, your forehead pressed against his broad back—feeling the rise and fall of his breath.

“I-I didn’t know!” You felt his body shudder as he let out a weak laugh.

“That’s the point of a surprise.”

You both stayed quiet for a moment, before you finally spoke up.

“Jinwoo, if it’s with you—of course it will already be special,” you felt the his body steady, as if he were holding his breath.

“It doesn’t need to be in a hotel, it doesn’t even have to be—be on a—a bed made of roses and chocolates!” You struggled to find the words, but you felt him laugh under your right grip.

“I can’t promise that the bed will be made out of roses and chocolates,” he mused. His voice was gentle.

“You know what I mean!” You playfully slapped his shoulder. “I just want you. That’s all.”

He turned around to meet your eyes, your grip around his waist loosening as he placed a large hand on your thigh, caressing it slowly.

“Are you sure you’re ready? That that is really what you want?” His voice laced with concern.

“Yes,” you smiled, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips.

“Plus, we can treat this as the pre-act—and try… Different… Things… At the hotel. That is, if you’re up for it.” Your last words came out quiet, shy to admit your thoughts.

To this, he raised an eyebrow, a devilish smile painting his lips.

“Different things? Really, now?”

“Really.”

He bit his bottom lip, contemplating your words, his gaze darkening as he leaned into you.

“Then trust me me, darling. You won’t be disappointed,” he mumbled against your lips as he gently pushed you back down onto the mattress.

Jinwoo, who then kept his word and ensured you were, in fact, far from disappointed.

© cyberyam

[sstan-hoe]

𝐀𝐧 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — congressman!bucky barnes × journalist!fem!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — interviewing congressman James Buchanan Barnes didn't seem like a big deal, if he wasn't known for getting the journalists fired...but with you...he had other ideas...

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — SMUT: p in v, unprotected, fingerings, sir kink, kind dark, kinda not, not aftercare cuz I didn't write it, bucky barnes, yeah that's a warning, did I forget anything?

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — okay, yeah, I jumped in that train, but how could I not? We can all agree I'm fucking rusty, idk what this is, I didn't even know how to end it? Where is my writing talent, like look at this? well, feedback is appreciated but ehh yeah I understand if not haha, also no beta, English is not my first language, yk all that stuff

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the chaos that would follow in the next two hours. It was your first major interview, before all you did was write a few articles and do research. Therefore, you were even more anxious with the task you got from your boss.

Disappointing her was not an option but you knew how difficult today would be, in preparation for this moment you watched many interviews with the congressman. You observed actions of journalists he would criticise or how he would react to certain questions.

This way you were able to tell yourself it would be a great interview. All while hoping your boss was not searching for a reason to fire you and this was her way of getting rid of you.

You had set questions, which couldn’t be changed and some you weren’t even allowed to ask. So, a waterproof plan, right? Well congressman Barnes wasn’t known for his flawless interviews or his friendly answers.

No, he was rude and harsh. Many journalists before you had lost their job or swore to never interview him again – or more like weren’t allowed to come back. His answers were short and often left no room for arguments. If a reporter even messed up a tiny bit, he would immediately call them out on it.

Walking into the tall building felt like you would crumble under the pressure, everything was so massive and intimidating. Well, a place fit for a man like James Buchanan Barnes.

They checked your ID and instructions. Simply what to do and not to do, nothing new. Still, it felt like you committed a crime, after all the secruity never left you alone, which made sense as they wanted to make sure Barnes was safe.

Although, he could protect himself with that metal arm of his – also something you were under no circumstances allowed to ask about. The last one who did, has never surfaced again.

“You can sit there, he will be with you in five minutes,” a man with broad shoulders and blonde hair told you. He looked like the typical American golden boy, he did seem a bit scary, but you would bet he was a true sweetheart.

“Okay,” you answered, though he probably didn’t even hear you as he walked right out of the door again. It gave you a chance to take in the room, it wasn’t like the usual interview rooms you saw on TV, no it seemed more private and secured.

In hopes to be perfect, you set everything up. Everything had to align, the papers, the pen and water of course. You could not give him any reason to snap at you.

Just as you finished, the man of the hour stepped in with five secruity men. Barnes entrance came with an unstoppable aura, like everyone would cower under his presence and most of the time they did.

He glared at you, as if you had just called him an asshole – which you didn’t. You tried your best not to show him how much it bothered you, so you just smiled brightly at him.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes, I’m really honoured that you agreed to this interview,” you politely said once he sat down. “You’re welcome,” he answered, voice a lot deeper than you thought and awfully sexy. How could he be single? Also, a question no one was allowed to ask, but it was unusual for a congressman to have no partner…right?

He nodded at his men, and instantly they cleared out which confused you. “Aren’t they supposed to protect you?” you questioned, already regretting it.

“Yes, they are right in front of the door and the room has cameras everywhere,” he explained, voice monotone. Lightly he tilted his head, he gave every reporter three strikes – not telling them of course – and once they hit them, he would make them leave.

After knowing who would interview him, he did his research, and you were the first one he barley found any information on. You weren’t known yet, which was probably the reason they send you.

However it made him curious, the articles you had written so far were good – some even better than the ones of his previous reporters. Besides you were a lot prettier than them.

“Oh, yeah…that makes sense,” you nodded in agreement, trying to hide the fact that you still found it weird. “Okay, then we should start. I will ask you questions, and you answer them however you want, and-,” “I know how to answer questions doll,” he cut you off in a sharp tone, eyes quite dark.

Great, this was going fucking great, you told yourself, “I know, of course, I just…I’m used to doing it this way,” you tried your best to explain, keeping a smile on your lips. In response Barnes lifted his eyebrow, “you’re used to making the person oppisite of you look stupid?”

Couldn’t there be a fire, or an attack or anything? Anything that would make you end this interview, “no, no I’m not. We will just start, first question: not everyone is happy that you won the election, is there a way you want to proof yourself to them?”

“No, I won’t do anything. Everyone has their opinion, and they should keep it, I proofed myself enough, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here,” he answered, leaning back against his chair. You knew he had good answers but damn.

“Sounds good, I mean there was never a congressman everyone liked,” you agreed, writing his answer down. “Yes, thank you,” he said with sarcasm and only then you realised what you had actually said, with wide eyes you began apologizing, “I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just you know slang,” that what bullshit, it wasn’t slang you only needed an explanation.

“Slang?” he repeated, he knew you were nervous – everyone was – but he didn’t expect to enjoy it this much. You pressed your lips together, nodding along, “yes.”

“Next question,” you put a bright smile back on your face, “your term is rather young, but in this time, you already accomplished a lot, what are you most proud of?” For a moment there was a silence, it gave you a chance to take a closer look at Barnes.

Suddenly he had a small smirk on his lips instead of the normal stoic expression, you’d never seen him act any different in recent interviews. Maybe it was a good sign, maybe he wouldn’t end your carrier right after today.

“That every woman has the right of an abortion without fear,” he stated, crossing his fingers on his lap. You had no arguments there, it was truly remarkable.

Quickly you scribbled his answer down and checking the question off your list. “The other journalist had a recorder, are you not professional enough for that?” And there he was again, the friendly congressman everyone knew. It sounded almost as if he was taunting you.

“I am, just because I don’t fit your standard does not mean I’m unprofessional,” you snapped, then instantly clamping a hand over your mouth as you realised how you just spoke to the congressman.

Said person didn’t care, now he fully smirked with satisfaction, “so you actually can speak louder than a little mouse.” Oh, he looked so proud of himself for say that.

His words came unexpected, from your research you knew that he had a sharp tongue, but this was entirely new. From his answer you gathered he did it on purpose, but why would he want you to be rude? You could be reaching, but maybe your boss did want to get rid of you and asked him for help…okay that was crazy.

“Moving on,” you ignored his words, shaking your head a little as an idea popped in your head, if he could be an asshole so could you. “Many people wonder what happened with your arm, were you in the army or maybe an accident?”

“Come again?” he almost growled, features becoming dark and almost scary. Body moving a little forward, even though a small part of you was scared, you were extremely turned on.

You didn’t know what to say, should you really repeat it? Fuck it, yes. “What happened to your arm?” eyes staying on his, noticing how he flexed said arm.

“Becoming quite bold, are we? I remember this being a question you’re not allowed to ask,” he lifted his chin as if challenging you. This was exactly what he wanted, to see if you were really as shy as he read and he was positively surprised.

“I told you I’m not like the others,” suddenly you forgot who you were talking to, forgot how he was one of the most important and powerful people in the world.

Then he stood up, his huge body towering over you. Bucky rested his hands on either side of your chair, face dangerously close to yours. It was as if he could feel how nervous you became.

“No, you’re not…,” he whispered, hands taking yours and guiding you to stand up. As if in trance you followed him, looking up at him with big eyes.

“You’re far more beautiful,” he continued, letting his hands glide up your body to your face. Was this actually happening? No, you had to be dreaming, there was no other explanation.

You had no words, you were speechless, and your mind was running wild. Is that why he chose you? Because he wanted a quick fuck? As if he couldn’t get anyone, he wanted but you would surely not cave and lose your job – wait would you lose it if you did not sleep with him?

“This is unprofessional,” you stated, trying to move your chair a little further away from him. However, your words only made the man smirk with a devilish glint in his eyes.

“Who is to say we should not do this? There is no one with more power than me doll,” he whispered, closer than he was before. He would be lying if he said he didn’t do his research on you and if he would deny how captive, you held him.

Your work stood out, you really seemed to care the people you interviewed and wanted to give the audience a look behind the curtains. Every other reporter he had before was full of themselves, proud to be interviewing the congressman and only getting what was necessary.

His agenda may or may not have been unprofessional. But who could blame him? You were the prettiest girl he had ever seen, it was remarkable, and he wanted you.

“I’m not sleeping with you, I’m not some girl you can use to get off,” you continued, trying to stand up but Bucky gripped your waist instead. Was this truly your life? Of course, James Barnes was a walking god, but this felt like a situation right out of a romance book.

He chuckled at that, he loved how you played hard to get. “Sure,” he nodded before pulling you flush against his hard chest, reflexively your hands flew against his broad shoulders.

“Prove me wrong,” he challenged you, then pressed his lips against yours, tongue gliding along your upper lip. Caught up in the moment you accepted his tongue into your mouth, his kiss was hot and filled with hunger.

It felt like he was swallowing you and you hated to admit how damn good he felt. Not only his aura was screaming dominance but also actions did as he lightly bit into your bottom lip to keep your mouth open.

You moved into him, hands wrapping around his neck. With a heavy breath Bucky broke the kiss, wearing a satisfied smirk, “you seem to quite enjoy this doll.”

In response you rolled your eyes, “it is highly unprofessional, you should know this,” you tried to keep your voice hard, in order to convince yourself to not fall further into his schemes.

Again, he didn’t take you seriously instead he placed hot kisses along your collarbone, and you couldn’t help but let out a whine by the way his slight stubble was rubbing against your skin. It was rough yet set you on fire.

“Does that normaly work for you?” he questioned in between kisses, suddenly you sensed pressure just above your pulse. The congressman was marking you up, like you were his possession.

“What?” you asked confused, eyes fighting to stay open as you gripped onto his hair. In response he shook his head, continuing his way down your cleavage. Meanwhile he let his hand slide up to the collar of your blouse and without hesitation ripped it open.

His actions pulled you from your bliss, gasping loudly, “I just bought this one!” “Please, I will buy you a new one if you’re so attached,” he rolled his eyes, slipping your blouse off and revealing your black lace bra.

God, you looked amazing, if Bucky wasn’t on a time limit, he would take the time to worship your tits properly.

“No, no, no, I told you this is wrong!” you let go of him and put your hands on his chest to keep a distance. You couldn’t let this go any further than it already had, but the man in front of you was so hard to resist.

“Doll, if it’s wrong than why does it feel like the right thing to do?” he whispered against the shell of your ear, resting his hands once again on your waist, however now you felt the contrast of his warm flesh hand and cold metal hand.

Letting his metal hand move down to your thigh, he lifted your leg to pull you closer to him. The way he manoeuvred your body made you feel his hard erection.

You whimpered in order to supress a moan slipping from your lips, “Mr. Barnes,” you argued. He knew exactly what he was doing, “I like the way you say my name, so be honest…if you’re so against this, then why are you reacting this way, mhm?”

“Come on doll, tell me,” his lips ghosted over yours before he hosted you up completely. “Sir…please,” you tried again, voice cracking as you tried to stabilize yourself.

He chuckled walking towards his desk, laying you down on the hard wood. “That’s what I thought,” he grinned, kissing down your stomach to your heated core. You thought you would explode, the congressman was about to pleasure you, the same man who you were scared would fire you.

“Let’s see if I really don’t have any effect on you doll,” you got goosebumps from the way his hot breath hit your skin. Bucky opened your trousers, pulling them down your legs.

He hooked his fingers around your panties, revealing how right he was. “Look at that, you’re fucking wet for the congressman,” he sounded taunting, but you would bet he was satisfied with himself.

However, his words only made this moment feel even dirtier than it already was. You propped yourself up on your elbows and suddenly realised you were completely naked yet the man in front of you wasn’t.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit unfair how you’re still fully dressed?” you questioned with raised brows, not knowing you could muster up this much confidence at the moment.

“Do you think this is any way to speak to me?” his tone became dark, throwing your panties across the room. With one sentence he destroyed your confidence, “I’m sorry sir,” you instantly apologized which played right into Bucky’s cards.

Smirking he shrugged of his blazer, loosened his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt a little. It gave you a view onto his god-like chest.

“That’s a good girl,” he told you, pulling his tie over his head and stuffed it into your mouth. While it was extremely hot you felt a slight disappointment, “aww, don’t worry doll, you’ll get the chance to scream as loud as you need but not today.”

“Sadly, we’re on a tight schedule, so I will have to eat you out another time,” he said it like it was the most casual thing there was while you almost choked, there would be a second time?

His fingers traced along your cunt, spreading your juice over your skin, “feel how wet you are for me? And here you were saying that you didn’t want this,” he tsked, pushing his middle and pointer finger into your pulsing core.

You bit down on his tie, suppressing a moan and muffling his last name. Even in this situation you were too scared to say his first name.

“Squeezing my fingers huh, doll?” Bucky pulled his fingers from you and smeared his cock with your wetness. Then he undid his pants, letting his hard member free. Your gaze fell down to his cock, his leaking tip hitting his stomach.

You’d never thought you would say this, but he looked too pretty, and thicker than anyone you had before. “You’re so pretty,” you mumbled, your mind wasn’t function properly, so it didn’t even surprise you as those words left your mouth.

Bucky could barley make out what you were saying, he had an idea though and turned him on even more. With no warning he thrusted his cock inside your aching pussy, not caring if it hurt.

This time you couldn’t contain any sounds, you screamed loudly, clawing onto the wooden desk. “Feel me stretching you doll?” he smirked, pulling out but leaving his tip inside, just barley to tease you. Then he pushed in, with a hard pace he pummelled in and out of you.

You couldn’t help but clench around him, wrapping your lags around his hips which made him grin, “don’t want me leaving ya?”

Shaking your head you tried to keep the grip as tight as possible, he felt like heaven, he filled you perfectly and hit your sweet, sensitive spot in all the right ways.

His metal hand came down to rub circles on your clit, putting pressure on the sensitive bundle of nerves to drive you closer to your high. Given the fact he was still stronger than you, he had no problems moving with you pressing your legs against him.

In fact, it only made him enjoy it more. Your eyes rolled in the back I’d your head as you felt a shot if ecstasy crash through your nerves. Bucky was admiring how fucked out you looked, trying to hold onto one single though; him.

“I can feel you getting tighter doll, be a good girl and come...then you can milk my cock of every last drop,” he leaned down, whispering into your ear, flesh hand coming up to your throat to keep you in position.

“I can’t-“ you whimpered, it was too much, never before had you felt this much pleasure, never before was anyone able to make you come with his cock.

“You will, slut,” the congressman growled, demanded. This was exactly the man you feared just moments ago. Now you felt different, now you wanted to make him proud.

“Yes, sir,” you caved, letting everything happen, let the tight knot in your stomach explode. You tried holding onto his wrist, but your grip slipped.

With satisfaction Bucky fucked you through your orgasm, know it would push you even further into submission. He bit his lip, trying not to let out a strangled groan at the way you gripped him like a vice.

Seeing you have you climax made him sure to follow you suit, roads of white cum painted your swollen walls. It took everything in him to keep moving, to make you would get every last drop of him. “I could get used to being interviewed by you, doll,” he grunted, slightly tighting his hold on your throat.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, too overwhelmed with the situation. What had he done to you? Why did he give you an amazing orgasm ? What would happen now?

It was too much running through your brain, you just needed a nap, just for five minutes.... “Oh, doll, this was just the beginning.”

told ya, shit ending

[thewitchblue]

"Stop."

Dick complained as he fell onto the couch. He was just trying to cuddle with you, but you turn into mist every time he tried. You've been bullying your poor boyfriend with your abilities ever since he told you he's Nightwing.

You chuckled, turning solid again once you were standing. You teased,

"My poor honey bunches."

He was obviously grumpy as he sat upright again and gave you a half-hearted glare.

"Is this because I'm Nightwing?"

You sat next to him and gently pulled him into your arms. You felt bad looking at his pouting face. Dick thrives on physical contact.

"It's more about the lack of trust. I couldn't help but wonder if you ever trusted me like I trusted you."

You allowed Dick to kiss the top of your head when your grip on him tightened slightly.

"Of course I trust you. Nightwing is separate from me."

You knew as much, but it still felt odd how disconnected Nightwing was from Dick despite being the same person with the same personality and traits. Dick cuddled closer to you. It was a huge leap of faith when revealing Nightwing to you, but he was glad to have done it. He didn't like how often he had to lie to you and how smoothly the lies came out.

You weren't happy about it, but you doubt anybody would be happy to find out their boyfriend risks dying every day and every night. You love him too much to be happy about Nightwing. At least he's getting paid during the day. What's the excuse for nighttime?

You could assume everybody else's identities based on Dick's identity alone, so you weren't surprised when you caught them unmasked. Dick was showing you the BatCave, where everybody was in various degrees of unmasked (and some even partially undressed from changing to their suits).

Everybody froze in place when Dick introduced you to their superhero side. You had waved awkwardly and somehow managed to not turn into mist in front of everybody or hide behind Dick like a scared child. It was scary having the eyes of eight vigilantes trained on you specifically. Chaos erupted, and Dick had to fight off a few of his siblings.

Among the chaos, Tim managed to sneak up on you and grab you. Immediately, you turn into mist with a squeak. You accidentally made yourself vanish as you scattered your water vapour among the damp cave.

Tim was too stunned to dodge the punch Dick accidentally hit him with. It seemed Dick was defending air now with the only proof of your existence being his wet hands.

"Uh, Dick?"

Dick either didn't hear him or didn't dare to look away from his opponents, which was fair as Cass was trying to sweep him off his feet, and Jason was trying to land a punch.

Unfortunately for both of them, Dick had defaulted to his acrobat skills and can dodge for days. Cass was as fast as a snake, striking fast and evading any stray attacks from Dick. Jason, while slower, had enough force behind every punch that even one would lead to a swift victory for the duo.

"Dick."

Tim said, more insistently. He was still trying to locate you, but you were invisible. Lost in the air. His hands had dried on their own, and he worried you ran away in a panic. He didn't know what to do or how to even get you back. He had not prepared for something like this to happen.

He ran to the chemicals they kept in pipettes. He can maybe make a gas to force you back physically. Granted, he had no idea if you would turn into some type of elastic monster if he pulled you out of the air, but he'd rather you be real than Dick freak out.

Dick noticed immediately, but at least Tim wasn't trying to attack Dick. What is Tim doing anyway? Come to think of it, where are you? That gave Dick pause. Where did you go?

Dick realised too late what Tim was trying to do and screamed,

"STOP!"

His voice boomed through the cave, and everybody stopped. Dick never screams that way. It had to be bad if Dick ran instead of flipped to Tim.

All they heard was a weak cough that echoed throughout the air. Dick frantically searched for a cap for the tube. He hissed,

"You're killing them!"

Tim had no idea and turned off the burner immediately. He watched in horror as your physical body fell from the tall ceiling. Everybody heard the all-too-familiar sound of bones breaking and cringed.

Dick ran to the body and heard a disconnected voice say,

"I'm not in my body."

Dick glared at Tim immediately, who raised his hands in surrender before turning his attention to the body. He approached slowly, nervous to even see if the body was repairable. The fall didn't look good. You landed on your back, which normally means a broken spine, especially given the height you fell from, and he should know. His acrobatic career taught him as much.

"Honey bunny, where are you?"

Dick timidly asked as he looked around. You materialise as a mist body, looking at him with an anxious smile. He blew out a long breath as he realised he won't be able to put you back in your body for a long time, if ever.

He hesitated before trying to hold your hand. As expected, all he got was a wet hand, which you dried immediately by summoning it back to your hand. Dick turned to Tim with barely held fury burning in his eyes.

"What did you release, Tim?"

Tim looked at the chemicals and mumbled something inaudibly. You chose to answer for him when he didn't speak any louder.

"He mixed sulfur dioxide and nitrogen oxide with something Ivy produced."

You could taste the concoction mixing in the air and soaking into you. Being poisoned left a weird taste.

Dick had no idea how to fix this. Tim could have easily killed you with this poisoning. Dick punched the wall of the cave right next to Tim's head. He was shaking with rage and sorrow.

"Fix it."

Dick said as a feeling of calm slowly settled into him. This can't be happening. This had to be a dream. A nightmare. Tim didn't know where to even begin. All he could do was stare at your corpse-like body in horror. He's seen unconscious people, but you looked dead. Truly dead. Do you count as a zombie or a ghost in this state?

Jason was frozen in place. His gaze was flashing with every emotion a person could possibly feel before finally settling on blazing anger. He didn't even know who you are, but you obviously mean a lot to Dick, and Tim just ruined you potentially forever. Jason was freaking out. He's used to seeing dead bodies, but you weren't really dead. You were still conscious and aware. Jason was ready to explode with rage. There were too many memories resurfacing for his liking.

You tried again to hold Dick's hand, but you gave him a sad smile as your hand passed right through his hand. You didn't know where to even begin. Use halogens? Would that even work? You frowned at Tim. He was riddled with guilt, but what did he honestly expect to happen? You would be poisoned and potentially killed if you weren't forcefully shoved out of your body.

Damian watched with hawk eyes. He could see the poison, in real time, mixing with your water vapour. It felt like watching a cloud turning into a tornado before his eyes. You said with a sigh of snowflakes,

"I wish I could say I can help, but I can't without physical hands."

Has this happened before? How are you so calm? You looked disappointed more than angry. Jason was angrier than you and he wasn't the one permanently made of mist.

"Do you know how to reverse it?"

Tim asked hopefully. You shrugged half-heartedly before saying,

"I have some ideas."

You spent the rest of the week ordering Tim to do things for you and testing all of your ideas while Dick watched every single move Tim did, claiming he lost all privacy privileges when he literally vaporised you.

"You know I really can't evil genius over here when you are glaring at me like I was the one who killed your parents."

Tim mumbled under his breath. He had tried to ignore the glares from Dick and Jason, but he can't focus. You spoke before Dick could, thankfully,

"Loony goony, I'm doing all the thinking. You're simply my hands."

Tim hates the nickname you gave him, but it was a fair point. He really has strictly been your hands as you hover above him like a cloud. He's been too stunned to do much else. You've been nice and patient, but he did still poison you, and that kind of soured your budding friendship.

Bruce realised very quickly that you were significantly smarter than they had assumed. Your knowledge was impressive, but he was really waiting to see if Jo'nn can do anything. Bruce should have expected Dick to date someone who can keep up in their conversations and help with cases when you weren't trying to fix yourself, but you constantly impressed him.

Your misty body turned to rain as you frowned next to Tim. It was fascinating to watch a self-contained rainstorm brewing within a body of mist, but Tim had to focus on his task. Your task, rather, as you were guiding him.

"Okay, don't panic, but you are going to have to liquefy me."

Tim startled out of his thoughts. He looked at you in horror, but you continue your thought,

"Separate me from the poison, put me in a glass and make my husk drink the liquid or inject me with me. Whichever you feel would work safer and quicker. Hopefully, that works."

You've run out of safe tests that normally work to return you to your physical body, so now you need to take drastic measures. He managed to say,

"What if you die? Or-or we miss parts of you?"

He was more than a little concerned. What happens if you die? He supposes he'd meet you in the afterlife soon after, if there is one, because Dick would kill him.

"I can restore myself once I'm in my body again. Just... catch the majority of it. I don't want to lose a limb or worse."

Dick was petrified in place the more you spoke. What do you mean you could lose a limb? What does worse imply? Is it going to hurt? Is this really the only option left?

"There has to be better ways to do this."

Dick tried to object. You sighed. You had hoped so, but it seemed unlikely. You doubt even the Martians could help.

"I'll probably survive. You focus on detoxifying me."

Jason managed to grab a rain tarp to catch you, but he still looked concerned. Could this really work? It seemed like a kooky idea. It was an idea that was thrown together, seemingly randomly. You seriously want them to liquefy you.

Tim was concerned. He had so many thoughts rattling in his head that he was overwhelmed. There were so many things that could go wrong, yet you acted so certain of your solution. He can't tell if it was fake bravo or genuine confidence, but he finds that he can't move his body to follow through. It should be so easy, but he finds himself unable to think or move. He doesn't want to mess this up again. He could seriously harm you if something goes wrong. Poisoning you, while awful, didn't cause you severe harm like messing up when putting you back together again would. Tim hesitated too long, so you did it for him.

Dick tried not to scream as you turned into a liquid in front of him, but he failed. He did, however, manage to assist Tim with shaking hands. Dick said with gritted teeth,

"Tim, I swear if you ever do this again..."

Dick didn't need to finish his threat. It was a promise for a fight. The second his misty partner is poisoned, he's going on a warpath. He doesn't care if he has to turn into a villain.

"Noted."

Was Tim's only response. He doesn't really plan to poison you again. At least, not intentionally (this is Gotham, after all). He's grown to like you and wants to keep you around. You have a brilliant brain, and you didn't seem to shy away from taking charge under the unpredictable situation.

They managed to separate you and the poison, but nobody could agree on what is a safer option: giving you an IV or attempting to get your husk to drink you. Dick said worriedly,

"You could spill if they are drank."

Jason countered,

"IVs are slow and who knows if it would actually work."

Cass chimed in,

"IV is better."

Damian couldn't care less, but he pointed out,

"They said they can reclaim the water they lost."

Tim shook his head, but he stayed out of it because he's the cause of the problem to begin with. You did say both methods should work. You just didn't say anything about what you'd prefer. You put blind faith into a group of heroes to figure it out.

Dick eyed your watery body. You'd probably be yelling at them to hurry up before you evaporate completely, so he gathered you carefully into a piping bag and slowly put you back inside your body.

"This better work..."

Dick grumbled. He will kill Tim if it doesn't work. The others ceased their bickering and waited to see if you would wake up or not. This will decide Tim's fate.

Fortunately for Tim, you did recover. You slowly lifted your hands to examine before grinning and grabbing Dick's hands. Your hands didn't pass through his own! You knew your honey bunches would save you.

You got borderline tackled by Dick's aggressive hug and heard his relieved laugh. You're not dead! Tim's life is no longer in danger! You said cheekily,

"I told you I'd probably survive."

Probability was on your side this time, but don't push your luck next time you are poisoned, you beautiful science experiment.

[sleepingcup]

I can't ask in your crk blog for some reason.. So..i came here andd I wasn't sure to message you crk blog either..

But I wanted to ask if you can do shadow milk and PV or their skins.. To like comfort a mentality exausted Y/N.. 😅 (omg I'm nervous-)

(Sorry about that anon, yes the inbox in eepy-cookies is closed because it has a massive request that needs to be fulfilled. But I do feel a little bonus since it feels a bit incomplete.)

Characters: Truthless Recluse, Pure Vanilla Cookie, Sage of Truth, & Shadow Milk Cookie x G/N Reader (Bonus: Black Sapphire Cookie, Candy Apple Cookie, Awakened Pure Vanilla Cookie) Genre: Hurt/Comfort & Fluff Trigger Warning: Dark Topics and mentions of s****de Disclaimer: This is made for fun, please be aware of ooc

Summary: You are exhausted mentally for who knows how long, masking your personality. Always keeping a fake smile wherever you go, it went well even if it hurts but somehow someone noticed and corners you alone.

Pure Vanilla Cookie

It will take him a while to notice that you were masking this whole time, he always got fooled so easily its hard for him to notice a bit of your suffering. To him you are able to avoid him trying to understand you.

But if he happen to notice, he feels really bad for not noticing.

You didn't tell him and he didn't know, you two are on both fault at that.

You happen to notice that he was going near you at all cost, he won't be fooled by your attitude, instead he often goes near you to hug, ask you, and at the same time making sure that you are being comforted slowly.

Who knows he might be happy to see you being truly happy.

Truthless Recluse

You can't fool him, he can sense your sorrows.

Try masking your emotions and he can casually point it out like it was no big deal for him, of course he can piss you off wondering why but he knew he was trying to help you.

You heard me, "Help you." What else can you do when he found you alone on the top building with railings leaving behind many shoes of the unfortunate.

He may not be the best comforter but rest assure that his silent presence alone was there for you to at least let you lap on his lap, petting you and encouraging you to cry your heart out.

He looks cold but he isn't heartless there is still a slight fragment of Pure Vanilla Cookie in him.

Awakened Pure Vanilla Cookie

Fooling him once, crumbling to see you try.

Cause he can tell if you are alright or not, you might found him often checking up on you from time to time. Wanting you to be more open to him about your pain, sorrows, and dark thoughts that might hurt his heart.

Not only that be prepared for Pure Vanilla Cookie to arrive at your room asking you out to join him on a tea alone with him in a more private place just to comfort you no matter how many times other cookies tried to get him.

You being alone is not on his goal, his goal is to be there by your side. After all, he sees his own pain within you, he needs to see a future, a future where you are happy by his side no matter the cost.

Shadow Milk Cookie

Imagine your surprise that he found you alone on a bridge alone when you were lost in thoughts, you ignored him despite him mocking you to not do that unfortunate risk.

At first you think you fooled him, but he isn't he can sense your sorrow.

But even if you can't take it anymore and was about to jump, he simply won't let you. Putting you as his doll puppet for his own amusement. After all he found a PERFECT audience to perform no matter what state you are in.

But deep down, he finds your pain like a painful past reflection he has seen himself in. He won't let that slide, so he got his eyes on you no matter what. And he knew he got his instincts right the SECOND he leave you alone, disrespecting your privacy and making sure you feel better no matter his own efforts are not good.

After all, you serve a great challenge for him~

Sage of Truth

He can see you mask, your fake smile and it made him notice how you are mentally feeling. He is of course the fount of knowledge and the sage of truth, he knew the truth the second he see you. Cornering you to see how you are feeling got you on your nerves at first, but he reassures you that he was concerned for you and with valid proof he was doing everything he can to at least save you.

Of course there was an argument, but he won't back down even tho he will admit he is scared on the inside the pain that you help scares him but he knew his priority.

Finally he got you on your weakest and saddest days and he comfort you every time. And thus he decided to become your roommate despite how jealous other cookies are.

He has a feeling that leaving you alone once would make him hear the worse situation possible even tho it won't happen.

Surprise to say, he has become your therapist and comforter.

Black Sapphire Cookie

He didn't know at first but when he started inspecting you, it has somehow become a puzzle he wanted to solve like a detective investigating a crime scene. He knows your masking but he has no proof that you are mentally struggling to feel better, so he went deeper to find the pieces.

And let's just say once he did he got disgusted and now he has to capture you for himself, after all no child doesn't deserve the harsh treatment for a parent/guardian. By spreading a nasty rumor and making sure that IT IS REAL he was amused to see their face filled with begging, crying, and regret which he didn't believe and finish the job.

The next day you were doing peaceful stuff receiving concerns and worries from other cookies no matter where you go which got you confused.

But once you were finally alone, you knew the moment you see him it is checkmate.

"Now, now, where do you think your going, my dear audience~"

Candy Apple Cookie

Aside from doing the orders Shadow Milk Cookie gave her, you were the first cookie she somehow by any chance got along well with. Even if she manage to fool you, she notice that unusual look on your face. It got her confused and yet there was a desire to find out.

Those so called friends who betrayed you ticked her the wrong way, she often sees you with bruises and weird haircuts which her usual smile fades to a deadly seriousness. Candy Apple Cookie SIMPLY won't let that slide, after all YOU are her favorite friend aside from Shadow Milk Cookie and Black Sapphire Cookie.

She manage to convince Black Sapphire to join her on a scheme which gave him ideas to bring in the rumors about your so called "good friends" as she drags you away from them and your village.

Sure Master Shadow Milk Cookie WON'T mind this now do he?

[lostintransist]

Broken Beyond Bearing | Part 5

-. —- / .-. . -.-. —- .-. -.. … / . -..- .. … - / ..-. —- .-. / …. . .-.

Part 1 found here | AO3

Simon’s rut had finished in due course, leaving everyone a little worse for wear but recharged emotionally. Johnny spent every moment not pinned to a mattress, keening, with you. He couldn’t quite tell how it was working. Each time he emerged from their room and daylight still touched their mountain you could be found outside.

Bundled up in the shawl he had picked up for you and the winter supplies everyone else had pitched in for, you seemed to be making friends with the crows. Johnny would dress for the weather and join you often sitting in silence broken by caws. Each time he sat you allowed him a little closer than the time before.

You befriended the crows; he courted you.

In passing times he coordinated with John about making sure you would be set for when they returned to missions. You would need a phone, a computer, a card to access the joint bank account, sign-in information for the local grocery store for deliveries and any other number of things. Everything that needed to be delivered would arrive before they left.

The day Simon’s rut finally broke Johnny showered quickly and found you on the back porch, setting the cashews out that no one had cared to find in the back of the cupboard.

“Care to walk with me?” Johnny smiled brightly at you despite struggling to see with the bright snow blazing into his eyes.

You narrowed your eyes at him before agreeing with a nod.

“Let’s not track snow in through the house, have you explored beyond the deck yet?” Johnny offers you an elbow.

The hard stare you pin him with reminds him of the feeling before a bomb blows.

“Just an elbow ya bonnie moves to and fro and not much else,” he shifted it to prove his point.

The laugh you let out comes through your nose, but you take his offer. Silence only found in a forest coated in snow is broken only by the crunching of boots. Johnny walks you around the house and down the drive. Nearly ten minutes pass in companionable silence before you speak up.

“Why a wife?”

“Mmm?” Johnny glances at you. He had been lost in his thoughts about well he didn’t really need to jump back into those thoughts right now, they involved his lips being in places they had not been invited…yet.

“Kate called me a wife. Why a wife and not pack?” Your lips are pursed as you ask.

Johnny tips his head as he thinks of how to reply. Seven more steps pass before he has an answer.

“Wife is an old word, not too common anymore. Its original meaning was a treasured one. It can still be listed in lieu of a designation on a lot of government forms. When Kate told John she had brought us a wife she told him that she brought someone we should treasure.”

You slowed to a stop, confusion and a waft of fear-laced want lifted into the air from your neck. Johnny held down the urge to lift a wrist to his nose to pull the scent in deeper. Even the sour, off notes to the want couldn’t disguise the heady pull of it.

He did, however, lift his hand from his warm pocket to press it to your cheek. Watching your eyes drift close and lips part at the touch sent a frenzy off in his body. That moment got him through a lot of rough spots after they shipped off.

Johnny thought about it now, that sweet moment where you began to understand they would care for you because you were their wife, as he aimed the truck up the drive. When the cabin finally came into sight in the bright, cold sunshine he couldn’t prevent his sigh. Three weeks home with you, while he recovered from a bad concussion, would be a blessed chance to woo you.

Parked neatly under the front porch, Johnny grabbed his bag and headed for the stairs. At least two storms’ worth of snow had settled on each step. Odd, but it’s not like you were expecting visitors. Clomping up the stairs to alert you to his presence, Johnny turned the door handle and sucked in a deep breath to call out.

Only stale air met his nose.

Stale. Cold. Air.

He hadn’t driven with a gun on his thigh but Johnny always traveled with a blade at his ankle. It appeared in his hand as he cleared the house. Each room that came up empty, no signs of a struggle, ratcheted up his concern. The back porch being covered in untouched snow told him you were gone.

Missing.

Stolen?

The knife slid home in its ankle holster, Johnny ran back to the truck and turned it around, heading into town. If you had any issues that is where you would most likely be. None of them had any voicemails when they turned their phones back on after a grueling mission.

“Old MacDonald had a farm, eieio!” You sing out in your loudest volume.

Thirteen days trapped in this tiny cell at the sheriff’s office had given you a lot of time to work out a good outlet for your anger at being contained. Laying across the thin mattress projecting your voice into the cement box at least gave you something to do.

“And on that farm, he had a pig, eieio!”

Seven weeks alone after a lifetime of being surrounded by betas had driven you a smidge wilder than Scorpio left you. Thankfully one thing Scorpio had taught you was how to get over your shyness of peeing while being watched.

“With a ‘you have the right to remain silent’ here and a ‘anything you say can and will be used against you’ ther—”

Something slammed into the bars. Letting your head loll to the side you looked at the young alpha deputy, with black hair and tattoos peeking above his collar, who stared at you with wild eyes and a snarl to rival a lion. Too bad for him you were a fucking badger.

“Do you have to keep singing?”

Catching his eye, you took a deep breath.

“Twinkle, twinkle little fuck. Being cops must really suck.”

This twisted version of the song belted out louder than Old MacDonald did.

Deputy Tweedle Dee hit the bars again and yelled toward the desks.

“Any word on those military guys up the canyon? I might kill her if she keeps up the singing.”

“Promises, promises officer!” You shout after him, cackling at the whine of distress he let out.

Damn, you really needed to see people more. A few weeks with only the crows to talk to and you started to lose it.

A commotion beyond the edge of your hearing cut through your song.

“Where is my wife!?”

The roar had you sitting upright, snow boots clunking against the floor.

They might have abandoned you and not answered their phones when the food deliveries stopped but you knew your new keepers would object to you being gone.

“Now sir, you can’t barge in her—”

That was the receptionist. Bit of a bitch but she didn’t antagonize you like the deputy did at least.

Deputy Tweedle Dee reappeared from the edge of the cell, collar pulled tight by a hand lightly covered in hair pushed him forward. The tattoo insignia came next and there he was, Johnny. His sharp blue eyes scoured you, tension around his eyes easing at seeing you physically well. The angry glare returns as he shifts his attention back to the deputy.

You didn’t know what to call him; you didn’t have a companion word for wife. You had forgotten to look it up until now.

Johnny shook the deputy. You smirked as his head bobbled.

“Let her out. Now.”

“No, I can—”

The deputy’s words were cut off with his air as Johnny twisted the shirt around his hand.

“Now.”

The menace in his voice pairs neatly with the scent of rage and vitality lifting off Johnny now.

The deputy pulls the key from his belt and opens the cell you had been trapped in. You stand and cross to the exit.

“Deputy Fuck-up,” you snark as you pass the men.

Hate flares in his eyes as Johnny lets him go. The hand that choked a man settles against your back, heat flashing through your shirt. They hadn’t given you back your coat after they threw you into lockup. The thin blanket provided did nothing to fight back the chill of the snow and concrete.

Your beta preens at Johnny’s touch. The burn of his anger in your nose has her crying out to soothe him. She will hush if you ignore her, she always has before. Walking back through the precinct you can’t help but flip off the old sheriff who is standing up behind his desk in the glass-walled office.

He hustles around his desk, hollering into the room. The ruddy red of his cheeks slinks down his neck as he gets closer. He would like Santa with his white hair if not for the short trimmed beard instead of a long bushy one.

“Now, young man! You cannot take that beta!”

“Go out to the truck please, wife,” Johnny murmured down to you as he laid a kiss to your temple.

“I need my shawl,” you inform him.

Johnny looks at you, all light disappearing from his blue eyes.

“They took it?” Frost would have puffed off his breath if the heater hadn’t kicked in then, the hum filling the space.

You nod once, eyes not leaving him as the sheriff steps up to speak to Johnny. The one who calls you wife ignored the blustering man as he shrugged off his own coat and settled it on your shoulders. His touch lingers at the zipper, scent of burning and a hint of disaster in his scent. Turning from the oncoming storm you leave the building that had jailed you. The truck is unlocked when you reach it.

Opening the passenger door you gag and physically recoil. The stench of fear and panic billows out like smoke from a broken window. Pinching your nose closed and sipping in air through your mouth you open every door of the truck despite the cold biting at your skin.

“Damn, I didn’t realize he might actually care,” you mutter, tone nasally.

Nearing five minutes later Johnny pushes through the glass doors, your shawl in hand. At his appearance, you step from the driver’s seat where you had waited and close the back doors as you work your way around to the passenger seat. Johnny climbs behind the wheel and passes your shawl over. You let it rest in your lap, running your hands over it as he begins the drive back to the cabin.

Halfway through the silent drive, he speaks.

“What the hell happened?”

Struck as if by lightning you can’t prevent but biting back.

“The fuck do you mean? What the hell happened to being someone you treasure? The food deliveries stopped two weeks ago and I couldn’t reach anyone. What was I supposed to do but walk my happy ass to town?”

Johnny glances at you from the side of his vision.

“Why not drive?”

“You really need to talk to Kate about the fuckery I went through before you make assumptions,” you growl at him, fingers digging into the plushness of your shawl.

“Interestin’,” he drawls in his accent.

“What is?” you snap

“You weren’t this feisty when we left.”

He says it as if it is an interesting animal fact and not the trait that kept you alive and assured your demise rising to the surface again.

Snapping your teeth closed you cross your arms and stare at your boots. The remainder of the drive is silent. You ignore every drifting scent coming from Johnny, unwilling to engage in any way.

Broken Masterlist | Masterlist

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