#but he’s overwhelmed and outnumbered he’s knocked down

[bitchapalooza]

I’m curious, what is everyone’s take on nations being born? Do they just appear out of thin air like canon suggests? Do they birth or sire them themselves? Or are they born from humans, it being a long standing(or old depending on the time period ig) fear for parents finding out their newborn is a semi-immortal representation of their kingdom/empire/country to be?

I like all three theories depending on the narrative at play but I’m leaning towards the last one because it sounds cool now that I actually put it into words lol

[animebw]

So! In order to keep myself from losing my goddamn mind in the aftermath of that G-Witch episode (how are we supposed to wait two weeks for the next episode I swear to fuck), I want to take a second and focus on something this show has done exceptionally well, but that I haven’t really seen talked about at all. Namely, the fact that Suletta is one of the best examples of an overpowered protagonist I’ve ever seen.

And yes, she is canonically overpowered. As long as she has Aerial by her side, she can curb-stomp pretty much every opponent without breaking a sweat. Time and again, she goes up against impossible odds and wipes the floor with them The best duelist at school? Chump. Facing multiple opponents alone and outnumbered? Child’s play. And honestly, I was starting to get annoyed by it around the end of the first season. How are we supposed to believe Suletta’s ever going to be in danger if she’s so ludicrously stronger than everyone else?

And then The Slap happened, and everything turns upside-down.

See, what makes season 1′s cliffhanger ending so goddamn powerful isn’t just the sight of our cheerful bumbling protagonist liquifying a living person into red paste in front of her horrified fiance. It’s not just the realization of how deep Prospera’s manipulation has twisted Suletta’s sense of identity. No, the real secret behind The Slap’s brilliance is that it retroactively makes every single moment of Overpowered Suletta fucking terrifying. Suddenly, we realize that her overwhelming strength in battle is a direct result of Prospera’s influence, raising her to be the perfect pawn in her little scheme. The reason she’s able to knock the socks off every single opponent she faces isn’t just Latent Protag Syndrome; it’s because her mother crafted her into a relentless warrior with the strength to destroy any obstacle in the path to her revenge. Suletta’s strength in battle isn’t just overwhelming; it’s dangerous, to herself and everyone around her. And the second she has to unleash that strength in a situation more serious than a no-casualties school sporting match, it becomes instantly, horrifyingly clear that she is in no way ready to grapple with the great responsibility that comes with such great power.

In other words, what first seemed like just a case of another anime protagonist winning every fight because reasons turns on its head and makes that overpowered nature a source of fear, both for the audience and for Miorine. So instead of ending up a boring tension-killer where we’re never afraid for Suletta’s safety, the fact that she’s capable of such force becomes the most critical source of tension and conflict driving her and Miorine’s story in the second season. Suletta being so overpowered is an explicit character flaw, at least as long as Prospera’s claws are in her. Because just because she can punch away any physical threat in her path doesn’t mean she’s not vulnerable in countless other areas. She may be the strongest in a fight, but she has nowhere near the strength of character to deal with the political schemes and emotional burdens that come about as a result of that strength. All that skill on the battlefield doesn’t mean shit when you can’t see how that skill is being manipulated for dark ends, or causing you to take on stress and trauma you have no healthy way of coping with. Suletta can smash her way to victory in any fight, and yet she’s the most vulnerable, least protected person in the entire cast, in no small part thanks to the forces that made her so strong in the first place.

There’s a reason characters like Saitama from One Punch Man and Mob from Mob Psycho 100 are so beloved, despite being so overpowered. ONE knows that in order to make an overpowered character interesting, you need to give them struggles beyond the scope of their powers to fix. Saitama can punch a mountain in half, but he can’t punch his way out of existential ennui; that’s just as much of a struggle for him as any normal person. Mob’s psychic powers can’t solve his emotional turmoil or provide him the perfect path toward maturity; he has to figure that out himself. They are overwhelmingly strong in fights, but the primary conflict of their stories has very little to do with those fights and everything to do with their growth as people. They’re stories about how even being the strongest person alive doesn’t protect you from the challenges of life that everyone on this planet faces, and their journeys to self-actualization are enormously compelling as a result. No one remembers the overpowered exploits of Isekai Harem Protagonist du jour; everyone remembers watching Saitama and Mob slowly find their way forward in life, one simple step at a time.

Suletta, in my eyes, is very much in the same vein. Like Saitama and Mob and all the best overpowered protagonists, her writing understands that being incredibly skilled in one area doesn’t mean you can’t be challenged in others- and in Mob’s case especially, how that incredible skill can actually be the biggest obstacle for the challenge you actually need to overcome. Suletta’s skill in battle is made compelling by her lack of that same skill in other areas, and the ultimate conflict of Gundam Witch is a conflict she cannot punch her way out of. If she’s going to survive this chaos and live happily every after with Miorine, she will need to struggle to overcome her years of conditioning and emotional uncertainty. She will need to struggle just as Mob struggled, just as Saitama struggled, not just to learn the skills she hasn’t developed yet, but to push back against the influence that resulted in her being so freakishly strong in the first place. Suletta is an overpowered protagonist who’s overpowered nature is, itself, the greatest challenge she will have to overcome in order to truly save herself and the people she loves. And I think that’s really damn neat.

[pain-is-too-tired]

Honestly,I think one of the reasons I hate how quickly the writing in TLO onward dropped mentioning Michael so fast is, not only cause I think he's a really interesting character and I love the Lil guy, but-

It's very likely that without his quick thinking, Kronos mightve won.

That, theoretically he dies before he can point out the fault in the bridge to Percy, maybe he's one of the demigods that Kronos knocks off earlier in the battle or something.

Percy is too focused on his fight with Kronos to notice the fault of have the same plan that Michael had, even more so with Annabeth being hurt and Michael being dead his fighting with a lot of grief and rage at that point (I mean, if he screams so loud it carried off into the air after he can't find Michael in canon, I imagine seeing him knocked off by Kronos along side Annabeth being hurt as well is gonna have him pretty upset.)

But at that point he's fighting mostly on his own, even if the living members of the Apollo cabin jump back in to help they're still highly outnumbered.

Percy might be mostly invincible with the Achilles curse, but it doesn't give him infinite energy. And not only is he fighting Kronos, but if Kronos told his army to back him up again they very much will. And 1 on gods know how many monsters and demigods ain't gonna do good

Especially since I'm sure Kronos is fully aware that Percy is gonna to avoid killing demigods as much as possible. And Kronos is willing to kill his own demigods so he's not holding anything back.

Maybe Percy's grief and rage might get him to be a tiny more reckless, but it's just a very bad situation if he doesn't notice the fault or manage to break the bridge in time.

Now if Kronos manages to wear Percy down enough to overwhelm him or whatever, idk exactly what he do after that? Find a way to keep him contained or attack every spot until he finds his weak point(like tigerclaw telling bluestar he'd keep killing her until all 9 lives were gone.) And we already know he had some close idea of where his weak spot was after Annabeth jumped in front of the knife sooo-

Anyway, yeah- so if both Michael and Percy are taken out the picture in the first battle, and Kronos marches on, there's multiple things that's gonna probably ensure his win.

1. He's likely gonna wipe out the rest of the Apollo cabin once he deals with Percy, which includes Will, and 11-12 year old Kayla and Austin(I'm mentioning their age mainly cause MY GODS THEY WERE BABIES)

2.Without an Apollo kid to heal Annabeth, I'm pretty sure it's heavily implied she wouldn't have made it. Like the Hunter's healing would not been enough. So they're out Annabeth too

3. The party ponies don't come until after Hyperion and all that iirc(like the end of the second night i think?) So there's no saving from them unless Chiron manages to convince them earlier but I'm running on the idea that it happens about the same as in canon with the Party Ponies.

4. Ares cabin doesn't come until the final day in canon. Now with this maybe Silena is able to report that Percy, Annabeth (if she dies before Silena goes to get the Ares cabin, at least she able to say Annabeth not looking good.),Michael, and the whole Apollo cabin been wiped out, and that might knock some sense into Clarisse to get her going earlier. But even then if Clarisse doesn't manage to get blessing of Ares somehow or whatever, they still might be cooked on that end in some form.

5. Hades, Persephone and Demeter probably wouldn't have made it in time either, maybe if Nico gets even more pushy after sensing Percy's death they might, but it's really up in the air how that'll work out and what would happen if they did get there earlier.

6. Poseidon is still focused on his fight in Atlantis, and without Percy he probably would jump in to take out Typhon. Maybe he might somehow go full rage of he manages to sense/ learn of Percy's death, but that's up in the air and, Like with 5, no telling how exactly that'll play out.

7. Gods likely will keep fighting Typhon. Which if the demigods and nature spirits are wiped out then Kronos going really have more freedom to tear down the thrones and wreck Olympus.

8. Rachel is a wild card, like maybe if she senses Percy might die at the bridge she might try to get to Manhattan before the battle even starts. But there's a lot of uncertainty if she could get there in time and everything. So that's up in the air at least

Over all, the BoM was 3 days of very close calls. The fact that the managed to push through each time by the hair of their chin is incredible and was built on a lot of lucky events.

Like a tower of cards. Remove one card the whole tower goes down.

And Michael's sacrifice was one of the cards that definitely kept Kronos from winning. And the fact that Rick doesn't even bother to finish his arc (We don't see Clarisse reaction to his death nor do we learn if his body was found or not, not even a burial shroud described, the chariot situation was solved off screen and then completely destroyed the next book. Like Rick did not give a care in the world about Michael after the bridge dhdyd)

It's very much a frustrating thing to me because how much Michael's death could've been something that really drove Percy in battle at least in one of the battles after Williamsburg Bridge. Heck, not only him connecting Ethan to Annabeth getting hurt but with Michael's death because he was there(even if he had nothing to do with it, Percy's at least gonna be frustrated with grief.)

The scene after Percy breaks the bridge is one of my favorites, because the small details. Kronos still looking a bit smug when he retreats. Percy's frantic search when he sees Michael's missing, HES SCREAM CARRYING INTO THE MORNING.

THE FACT MICHAEL DIES AS THE SUNS COMES UP,THAT HIS FINAL MOMENTS HE STILL GETS TO BE UNDER HIS FATHER'S LIGHT. THAT WILL RISES TO HIS POSITION AT DAWN-

And just. Michael Yew my beloved.

[jewels-writes]

Sacrificed Love (Arno Dorian x Reader)

Prompt: Self Sacrifice Pairing: Arno Dorian x Reader Warnings: Blood, near-death, hurt/comfort. self sacrifice, angst

As you stealthily made your way through the dimly lit alleyways, the tension in the air was palpable. Every step was calculated, every breath taken with caution. The echoes of your footsteps reverberated against the worn cobblestone streets as you neared the Templar hideout.

Sensing danger lurking around every corner, you and Arno exchanged knowing glances, a silent reassurance passing between you. The anticipation mounted as you approached the building, the sound of muffled voices and clanking weapons growing louder with each passing moment.

Drawing closer to the entrance, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. You reached out, grasping Arno's hand tightly. It was a gesture of unity, a reminder that you were in this together.

With a nod, you shared a wordless agreement and burst through the doors, ready to face the enemy head-on. Chaos erupted as the battle ensued, the clash of steel against steel filling the air. The room was a blur of flashing blades, desperate maneuvers, and the acrobatic prowess that defined both of you.

You fought with unwavering determination, skillfully dispatching the Templar soldiers that stood in your way. Arno's movements were a fluid dance of deadly precision, while you unleashed your own formidable arsenal of combat techniques.

But even as you fought valiantly, the odds began to tip against you. Reinforcements poured in, their numbers overwhelming. It was clear that the Templars had been prepared for your intrusion, and the situation grew dire.

Despite the mounting danger, you and Arno fought side by side, a seamless synergy between you. Your unspoken bond fueled your strength and resilience. The battle raged on, each passing moment intensifying the stakes.

But as the skirmish reached its climax, a series of unfortunate events unfolded. A well-aimed blow caught you off guard, knocking you off balance. The world spun around you as you staggered, your vision momentarily blurred.

In that split second of vulnerability, the Templars seized the opportunity. They closed in on you, weapons raised, a menacing glint in their eyes. You were outnumbered, and it seemed that escape was impossible.

Arno, his face etched with concern and determination, lunged forward, his blades slicing through the air with lethal precision. He fought ferociously, his movements fueled by a deep-seated protectiveness for you. But even his remarkable skills couldn't fend off the onslaught.

Cornered and defenseless, you could feel the weight of the impending danger pressing down upon you. Arno's voice rang out, a mixture of desperation and determination. "Stay behind me!" he shouted, his eyes locked with yours.

The seconds ticked by in agonizing slow motion as Arno valiantly fought to shield you. The clash of steel against steel reverberated through the chamber, the chaos of battle engulfing you both.

As the enemy realized they were outnumbered, they took advantage of the chaos and confusion to slip away from Arno's grasp. They darted towards a nearby alleyway, deftly evading Arno's attempts to catch them. You heard the enemy call for reinforcements and your stomach dropped as you looked over to Arno.

His voice pierced through the chaos, urgency etched in every word. "Quickly, behind the wall!" he exclaimed, his eyes darting around the room for an escape route.

With a surge of adrenaline, you sprinted towards the nearest wall, Arno close behind. You pressed your back against the cold stone, your breaths coming in short, rapid bursts. Arno positioned himself beside you, his presence a comforting shield.

The enemy's call for reinforcements worked and you suddenly heard the approaching footfalls of the enemy coming closer. The sound grew louder and closer, sending shivers down your spine. The enemy was closing in, their intent clear.

Arno's grip tightened on his hidden blades, his fingers flexing with anticipation. His eyes met yours, conveying a silent reassurance amidst the mounting danger. The two of you were in this together, come what may.

The footsteps drew nearer, and the tension in the air grew unbearable. Arno's jaw clenched, his gaze fixated on the approaching threat. His mind raced, formulating a plan to ensure your survival.

You grasped his hand tightly, and your voice trembled as you spoke. "Arno," you say, the words caught in your throat. "I have an idea."

Arno's gaze met yours, his expression was grave. "What is it?" he asks, his voice laced with worry.

"I can create a distraction," you explain, determination coloring your tone. "It might buy us enough time to escape."

"No," Arno insists, shaking his head. "We'll find another way. We'll fight our way out of this together."

But you knew time was running out. "We don't have time," you pressed, urgency in your voice. "Listen to me. I can do this. I'll create a diversion and draw their fire away from you. Use that opportunity to get away, Arno."

His eyes widened in disbelief, and his grip on your hand tightened. "No, I won't leave you," he protested. "I can't lose you."

You meet his gaze with a resolute stare. "It's the only way," you say firmly. "Promise me you'll get out of here alive."

A flicker of pain crossed Arno's features, but after a moment, he nodded. "I promise," he whispered.

With that promise echoing in your ears, you turned and sprinted into the open, your heart pounding in your chest. The sound of gunfire filled the air as you zigzagged, doing your best to avoid the bullets that rained down upon you.

Reaching the center of the courtyard, you shouted, drawing their attention. They opened fire, and you felt the sting of bullets piercing your flesh. The pain was excruciating, but you pushed through it, sprinting towards them.

In the distance, you caught sight of Arno and the others fleeing to safety. Relief flooded your being. You succeeded; you saved them.

But then darkness enveloped you.

The smoke from the battle still hung in the air as Arno frantically searched the battlefield. His heart pounded in his chest, fear gripping his every thought. The deafening sounds of swords clashing and cries of pain echoed in his ears, but he couldn't focus on anything else but finding you.

His mind replayed the moment when he last saw you, the moment you bravely threw yourself into danger to protect him. It felt like an eternity had passed since then, and the weight of worry threatened to suffocate him.

Arno's steps were urgent as he moved among fallen soldiers and broken weapons, his eyes scanning the chaos for any sign of you. His breath caught in his throat as he glimpsed a motionless figure lying on the ground.

With a surge of hope and dread, he rushed to your side, falling to his knees beside you. His trembling hands reached out to touch your face, his heart aching at the sight of blood staining your clothes.

"Please, don't let it be too late," he whispered, his voice choked with anguish.

Gently, he cradled your head, feeling the shallow rise and fall of your chest. Relief washed over him as he realized you were still breathing, albeit weakly. Tears welled in his eyes, a mixture of grief and gratitude.

Arno's hands moved with care, checking for any life-threatening injuries. He vowed to do everything in his power to save you, to mend the wounds you had suffered in his stead. His touch was tender, his movements deliberate as he assessed the extent of your injuries.

As he worked, his mind was flooded with a flurry of emotions. Guilt gnawed at him, the weight of the sacrifices you had made for him crashing down upon his shoulders. The fear of losing you threatened to consume him, a haunting reminder of how fragile life could be.

Minutes turned into eternity as Arno worked tirelessly, using his knowledge of first aid to stabilize your condition. With each bandage he applied and each gentle touch, his determination to see you through this ordeal grew stronger.

Finally, as the chaos of battle subsided, Arno held you in his arms, his gaze fixed on your peaceful face. The weight of the world lifted from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of relief that you were still here, fighting to hold on.

"I'm here, mon amour," he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of love and gratitude. "Stay with me."

Arno pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, vowing to protect you with every ounce of his being. He would never take your presence for granted again, cherishing each breath you took, each beat of your heart.

And as the sun set on the battlefield, casting its warm glow upon the wounded, Arno held you close, his arms a shield against the horrors of the world. In that moment, he knew that together, you would face whatever challenges lay ahead, hand in hand, and heart to heart.

When you finally awaken, you find yourself lying on a soft bed, your gaze meeting Arno's worried eyes. His hand clasps yours gently, and he urges you to remain still.

"Rest," he whispers, his voice filled with a mix of relief and concern. "You're safe now."

Confusion clouds your mind as you inquire, "What happened?"

Arno's voice is filled with emotion as he explains, "You were shot. But we managed to get you out of there. You're going to be alright."

A weak smile tugs at your lips, tears glistening in your eyes. "I did it, didn't I?"

Arno nods, a soft smile gracing his face. "You did. You saved us all."

Contentment washes over you as you surrender to sleep once more. In that moment, you know you made the right choice. No matter the risk, you would always go to any lengths to protect Arno, and you're grateful that you succeeded in keeping him safe.

[cptg00s3]

All the injured soldiers

Gn reader she/they and she/her dni you will be blocked, you have enough fics for yourself.

Tw for this fic:

Lowkey unfinished since I couldn't find the correct words to merge the two prompts I wrote. Might edit this someday but idk. Definitely not proofread. Like no actual romance

Fic doesn't make sense bc I never played cod.

Further no heavy heavy gore and torture of reader (not writing but very much written amd acknowledged)

Now please enjoy

Task Force 141 was on a mission to retrieve a high-value target, a Russian arms dealer, from an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Moscow. The team currently consisted of Soap, Price, Roach, and [Y/n], a skilled field operative with a knack for infiltration and espionage.

As they approached the warehouse, they noticed that the enemy had set up a complex defense system with multiple layers of security. The team split up, with Soap and [Y/n] taking the main entrance while Price and Gaz went around to the back to create a distraction.

However, as soon as Soap and [Y/n] entered the warehouse, they were ambushed by a group of heavily armed soldiers. They fought their way through, taking down one enemy after another, but it was clear that the opposition was better prepared than they had anticipated.

As they made their way deeper into the warehouse, [Y/n] noticed that Soap was starting to get increasingly agitated. He seemed to be more concerned with finding the target than with their safety, and [Y/n] had to keep reminding him to stay focused and stick to the plan.

Despite their best efforts, the team was eventually overwhelmed by the enemy's superior numbers and forced to retreat. As they were making their way out, [Y/n] was hit by a grenade and knocked unconscious.

When [Y/n] woke up, they were in a dark and dank cell with no idea how much time had passed. They were badly injured, with broken ribs and a concussion, and could barely move. It was clear that they had been captured by the enemy, and [Y/n] knew that they were in for a world of pain.

(Supposed timeskip prob)

The team quickly gathered their gear and prepared to move out. Price led the way, his mind set on getting [Y/n] back safely. As they made their way through the dense forest, they could hear the distant sound of gunfire and the occasional explosion. It was clear that [Y/n] was in the thick of it.

The team finally reached the edge of the enemy's compound. Price signaled for everyone to get into position. Ghost and Roach moved to take out the guards at the entrance, while Soap and Price made their way to the back of the compound.

They could hear [Y/n] screaming in agony from inside one of the buildings. Soap felt his blood boil at the sound. He knew they needed to move quickly before it was too late.

Price kicked down the door, and the team rushed in guns blazing. The enemy soldiers were caught off guard and quickly taken out. But as they moved deeper into the compound, they encountered heavy resistance.

Bullets whizzed past their heads as they ducked behind cover. Soap felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as he was hit by enemy fire. He gritted his teeth and continued to fight, his mind focused on getting to [Y/n].

Finally, they reached the room where [Y/n] was being held. The sight that greeted them was gruesome. [Y/n] was tied to a chair, covered in bruises and cuts. Their eyes were swollen shut and blood dripped from their nose.

Soap felt sick at the sight. He had seen his fair share of injuries in his line of work, but this was different. This was someone he cared about, someone he couldn't bear to see in such pain.

Price quickly moved to untie [Y/n], while Ghost and Roach covered their backs. Soap kept his gun trained on the door, ready for any more enemy soldiers that might show up.

As Price freed [Y/n], Soap moved to their side, ready to carry them out of the building. But before they could make their escape, a group of enemy soldiers burst into the room, guns blazing.

The team was outnumbered, and the fight quickly turned into a bloody melee. Soap felt his adrenaline pumping as he fought off the soldiers, his mind focused on protecting [Y/n]. He took a few hits, but nothing could stop him.

Finally, the team emerged victorious, but not without their fair share of injuries. Soap was bleeding from several wounds, but he hardly noticed. All he cared about was getting [Y/n] out of there and back to safety.

As they made their way out of the compound, Soap carried [Y/n] in his arms. They were barely conscious, but Soap could feel their heart still beating. He promised himself that he would do everything in his power to keep [Y/n] safe from now on.

Back at the base, the team worked to patch up their injuries. Soap couldn't stop thinking about [Y/n] and the torture they had endured. He vowed to never let them out of his sight again, to always protect them from harm. He realized that he cared about [Y/n] more than he had ever thought possible, and he wasn't going to let anything happen to them again.

[keyh0use]

Kinktober Day 8: Knife Kink

Blood, cuts, witchcraft, mentions of death, anal sex

Rafe was always odd.

But when Ward Cameron died suddenly and violently, it pushed the boy over the edge of insanity in a way no one could have predicted.

Tanneyhill was willingly signed over to Rose, where she paid little attention to the youngest sibling and let Sarah play Pogue with John B. at the new-and-improved Chateau, none the wiser to what any of them got up to.

And Rafe? Rafe had money.

Money that was put into buying an old, dilapidated cottage in the deep of the forest, far from the towns people who turned fearful eyes on him.

Which Barry only discovered after hunting down Sarah and learning she, too, had no idea where her brother lived. So the older man started hanging around local spots frequented by kooks until one fateful day Topper walked out of the country club with Rafe under his arm and well, twenty-five minutes later Barry was following the unsuspecting boy into the woods like a fucking stalker.

The house—if it could be called that—loomed with slanted peaks, moss and mushrooms making a home on the damp wooden siding and flower potted windowsills.

When Barry worked up the courage to knock instead of staring in slightly frightened awe, the heavy front door creaked open to reveal Rafe, looking healthy but undeniably sad still.

Rafe had stepped aside without question, a silent invitation into the warmly lit room which the older man gratefully accepted. That first evening spent in eachothers presence was nothing like their relationship before, more reserved and respectful now.

As it went, Rafe never talked much. There were no more manic ramblings or whiny scheming or sobbing fests. And there was absolutely no more substances.

Instead, when Rafe felt overwhelmed or bored or too much of anything, he would venture out into the trees and return with an armful of natural materials, retiring to the kitchen to crush them into fine powders before dispensing them into tiny bottles. Colourful jars were everywhere, on any available surface, labels sprawled with tongue-twisters.

Barry never understood what the fuck the boy was up to and didn't bother asking, either. Whatever it was, Rafe was content and busy and that was enough. Barry's only need was to support his friend—or whatever Rafe was to him.

That's how it became a routine to finish up work at the garage and end up on a small hike to the hidden home, red ribbons tied around twisting branches marking the trail for him to follow.

Eventually it was acceptable to let himself in while Rafe was out frolicking, and Barry would tidy up or read, promptly ignoring a large pentagram made of twigs and wax on the kitchen table.

And Barry wasn't an idiot, despite the appearance he kept up. It was a bad idea to go off into the forest at night unarmed and alone, but the trailer was so cold and lonely these days, so he made the rough trek, let himself in and crawled right into bed beside the slumbering boy and come morning, neither of them mentioned it.

Rafe always welcomed the older man in with open arms, arguably showing more hospitality than Barry deserved given how many times he turned the kook away in times of need before.

But this was now, and here in the now, Barry had a place amongst mismatched quilts and dried herbs hanging overhead and a crackling fire.

Their relationship changed with the seasons, growing warmer and softer, until Rafe's head found Barry's chest instead of the pillows every night.

Barry would chop firewood and Rafe would cook the most delicious meals he's ever tasted, they would sit in the glow of the fireplace and eat, feeling full and appreciated and happy.

And then the older man fucked up.

Dealing wasn't his main source of income and Rafe was clean—inadvertently so was Barry—which meant drugs stayed far away from their safe space.

Someone knew that, someone took advantage of that, and when Barry went after that someone, he was outnumbered.

That night when he finally stumbled into the cottage—and into his boys embrace—something changed in those soft blue eyes.

Though he never said it, Rafe was furious. Careful hands shaking while Barry recounted the story, bloody rag strangled between slender fingers as he tried desperately to school his expression.

For the first time, Rafe held Barry in bed and when the older man was fading into sleep, he heard a promise: I'll fix this, Barry, alright? I'll get him.

That morning Barry woke alone in the soft bed and found Rafe down by the sloughy edge of a bog, burying what looked to be a handmade doll, not that he had much time to pay attention.

After shrugging on a jacket and leaning down to kiss a concentrated Rafe on the forehead, Barry went on his way.

A boating accident. The staticky radio filled the concrete room with the story, two of Barry's co-workers stopping in their tracks to listen as the station recounted what happened to the asshole who beat him up not even 24 hours prior.

What a tragedy, the newscaster said, such a young life lost.

Barry knew it was Rafe's doing.

Like a couple months ago when he got a sudden promotion after years of thankless servitude. Like that time his old beat up truck miraculously started running fine again. Or like a week ago when he ate something off and after telling his boy, the illness mysteriously cleared up.

And now this.

It should send terror down his spine but it doesn't. Barry feels...he feels powerful.

That would be the first night they kissed. Barry's heart pounded in time with his footsteps all the way home only to shove the door open with a noisy creak, crossing the room to where Rafe stood still in confusion, a bowl of garden salad in his hands.

Barry kissed Rafe, and didn't stop kissing him until they fell asleep from exhaustion, uneaten dinner long forgotten and one side of the mattress soaked.

Weeks faded into months into a year, and their life together was really their life together, everything balanced and split perfectly.

"Are you gonna kill me?" asks Barry for the third time since leaving the comfort of their home, face scrunched up as bugs wizz by.

The boy mumbles, "I said no," for the third time, squeezing Barry's hand in reassurance.

"Then where you takin' me? And why the hell we gotta go there tonight?" Barry puts up with a lot of shit without raising questions, content to live with all the strange books with frightening imagery and sloshing jars labelled weird shit like bat blood or graveyard dirt and literal fucking skulls littered about on display but wandering around at night through the forest might be where he finally draws the line.

Rafe turns on him then, dragging momentarily paused in favour of pulling the older man close, wrapped up in the kooks all-encompassing embrace. "I love you," confesses Rafe. And before Barry can squeak out a response, he continues with, "I can't lose you too, alright? So please, Barry, please—it has to be tonight." "Yeah," mutters the older man with a subtle nod, heart beating wildly in his chest. "Yeah, okay...alright, lead the way." And Rafe pulls away and starts walking, a dazed Barry following behind with a frown etched into his handsome face, cursing himself for not saying I love you back.

Guilt weighs on Barry the whole journey; as they weave through twisted branches and ascend a steep incline, hand in hand as Rafe's words play over and over in his head. At the top is a small clearing, but Barry's so overcome with annoyance at himself it's hard to register what he's seeing right away. A thick blanket of darkness surrounds the circle, trees blocking their view besides the one overhead, deep blue sky starless. A hefty slab lies in the middle of the barren ground, grey and carved with symbols. Barry opens his mouth to speak but Rafe beats him to it, ordering firmly, "Take your clothes off." "Uh, what?" "Barry," pleads the boy, looking frantically skyward. "Please, I—"

The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them. "You gonna hurt me, country club?" Barry chews on his bottom lip anxiously, trying to make sense of the scene fit for sacrifice laid out before him. His question is met with silence so he asks more specifically, for the fourth time, "You gonna kill me?" "No," comes Rafe's immediate answer, brows furrowed at the accusation. "No, I love you." "Aight..." Then, like an idiot, Barry remembers to say, "I l—"

But Rafe is on him before he has a chance to finish, thin fabric of the older man's shirt grasped in a desperate hand as it tears up the middle, the ghost of a touch scraping over his abdomen—Rafe's holding something. Something black and sharp. A knife, Barry registers with a shutter.

It's unusual in appearance, carved stone instead of metal and solid in colour, having no reflection from the moonlight creeping in overhead. "No time," Rafe mumbles, tattered shirt falling to the forest floor. "Take them off now, please—" "Okay, okay, baby," the dealer whispers soothingly, so fucking confused and so fucking turned on by the sharp point of the knife digging into the hard flesh of his belly. Shoving down black sweatpants and boxers, Barry steps out of them and stands completely nude, shifting uncomfortably under the heavy blue stare. "Now what?" Rafe nods at the slab and says, "Lay down." A shiver runs down the older mans spine when he asks uncertainly, "Rafe?" "Why won't you listen?" whines Rafe, shoving at Barry's chest until he stumbles back a step. "Lay down, lay down, now!" "Fuck," huffs out Barry with a roll of his shoulders, moving the next few feet back to sit on the cold stone before doing as told and lying back.

Barry doesn't know what the fuck they're doing and it's only mildly concerning. On one hand, he trusts his boy and has confidence in his fighting abilities anyway, if need be. On the other, Rafe has a weapon and knows these woods like the back of his hand.

But then Rafe yanks off his own shirt, and, well—Barry's a simple man.

"Please tell me whatever this shit is ends with you riding my cock?" Barry jokes. His cheeks flush when Rafe gives him a soft smile while sharpening the blade on the edge of the stone.

Rafe moves forward until he can straddle his man's hips, having kicked off his own pajama pants. He sits down firmly on Barry's stiff prick, wedged perfectly between his ass—like a promise if the older man behaves.

The breeze is cool and damp, the slab beneath him freezing and jagged but Barry's hard nonetheless, enchanted by the sight of Rafe over him with a fucking dagger.

"Stay still," the kook whispers softly, bringing the sharpened point to Barry's thundering heart.

"No, wait," he replies in a panic. "Just tell me—"

Rafe cuts in with, "There's no time, I have to do it now!"

"Do what?" Barry pleadingly asks.

"Just..." with a sigh, the boy explains, "Just a little cut, I promise, okay? Like this." Rafe demonstrates by dragging the black tip in six jagged lines, hand steady and sure. "Okay? That okay?" 

A beat, then, "Deep?" 

"Enough to scar," answers the boy. "I'll be fast."

This is insane, Barry thinks. And it is. He doesn't even know what the boy is trying to do, yet here he is, giving a nod of consent to having his body permanently marked.

Rafe is true to his word, every slice is done with a quick flick of the wrist, like he's been practicing. Blue eyes stay trained on the lines he's carving, sucking his bottom lip in concentration.

Barry's skin splits again and again, blood oozing out of the fine gashes and pooling on his broad chest, glistening in the night. Jaws lock and teeth clench, and he keeps both hands fisted at his sides, staying as perfectly still as possible despite the head-reeling rush of adrenaline.

Is this some sort of pact with the devil? Was Rafe lying about him not being a sacrifice? Maybe this was just some fucked up way of breaking up?

Rivets of red drip down over his ribcage onto the freezing slab, sticking to Barry's biceps and leaking under his back, staining the stone and his skin.

It's messy and gross, sting prevalent and constant.

And then there's no warning. No warmup or communication.

Rafe sits up higher on his knees and reaches back to grab Barry's throbbing cock by the base, and sinks down in one long, fluid motion.

The rock digs into Barry's skull when he arches in shock, chest expanding in a heave that has fresh blood seeping out and he hisses "fuck," rather violently.

Rafe really came prepared for everything.

Settling down into the older man's lap, Rafe spreads open palms over Barry's flexing pecs and begins to rock, giving neither of them time to adjust.

Barry's head is swimming. He feels high and grounded, completely here with Rafe but also floating somewhere else, stomach tensing under the sudden surge of pleasure.

The stone is cold and Rafe is warm, on top and around him, squeezing his dick perfectly. Barry recalls the first time, how he felt like they fit like they were made for eachother, that feeling never faded.

Barry watches through hooded eyes as the reflectionless knife is brought up to Rafe's pretty lips, and then the boy is licking across the length slowly, swallowing Barry's taste as he cranes his neck to look at the sky.

The moon was passing over them lazily, bluish-white light casting over the small clearing and bathing them in it.

"Beautiful," gasps Barry, rough hands helping to bounce the boy on his lap.

Ever since the Cameron patriarch passed, Barry's been convinced Rafe's only real source of happiness is him. There hasn't been a single time the kook has laughed unless it was Barry telling a joke. On the winding journey to the cottage, the older man will veer off path to pick a bundle of wild flowers and Rafe will tilt his chin down to hide a blush while accepting them or Barry will catch a grin aimed at him while trying to concentrate on candle making, something of a date the two of them do every couple weeks.

But right now, Rafe wears a brilliant smile. His teeth are tinted red and sweat collects on his upper lip but he looks so happy—so free.

Rafe's silhouette beneath the hanging moon has Barry's breath catching, fingers flexing around sharp hips. The boy says something that doesn't sound like it's meant to be understood by the older man, and he repeats it over and over as their bodies move frantically together.

Heat pools in Barry's belly and with one hand, he yanks the kook down by the back of the neck to seal their lips together, tasting copper.

It's unlike Rafe to take the lead when Barry's around, and never in the bedroom but it's him who licks into the older man's mouth and who is setting the pace.

The edge of the blade slides back and forth along the underside of Barry's jaw when Rafe's hands close around his throat affectionately, pouring so much love into eachother even as the older man thrusts up wildly.

They come together, Rafe between their bellies and Barry deep inside him, clutching at one another's body while gasping.

It's like the surrounding wildlife suddenly explodes around them, cawing and chirping and growling, too. Every sense is heightened while riding the seemingly endless high.

"I love you," Barry blurts out against bruised lips.

A breeze sends tornados of dead leaves whirling around the circle and the moon shines blindingly bright, and Barry's filled to the brim with warmth.

Again, louder, "I love you, Rafe."

"Yeah," croaks the boy, blinking rapidly. "I love you, too."

Like that night after the attack, Rafe cleans Barry's wounds with careful hands, pressing gentle kisses over the bandages.

Barry still doesn't understand. Not really. Hasn't a single clue why Rafe turned to this scary shit in the first place, why he gave up his whole life as a young socialite to wander around gathering plants or why he spends every night in the older man's company, reading side by side in their cozy bed like they're married or some shit.

Barry doesn't understand—doesn't need to, either.

At the end of the day they're happy here, in the quiet life they've carefully crafted in the overgrown woodlands. It's enough for them.

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober Day 8

I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier / overcrowded ER / Outnumbered / It's all for nothing

Caretaker looked over the patient charts. It was already a busy emergency room day, and now it was even worse.

A fire had broken out in a nearby hotel, many made it out, but several injuries had been brought in. These ranged from minor injuries to horrible burns, and one person that Caretaker prayed would make it through the night.

Caretaker phoned home, "hey honey, I'll be working a double, maybe a triple. Could you or possibly Whumpee bring me a change of clothes and maybe dinner sometime today", Caretaker looked at a picture on their desk, "yes that would be great, thanks."

Caretaker walked to the nurses station, "I'll be here for a while, my adopted child Whumpee will be here in a bit with some stuff for me, please just put Whumpee in my office."

"Yes sir", the nurse smiled, "how long do you think you'll be working? You've been here since six this morning?"

"I'm signing on to a double at least, we are outnumbered by patients", Caretaker sighed, "there is no way I could leave knowing we are so overcrowded, I'd hate to overwhelm the residents as well."

Caretaker took care of their rounds. There was one more patient to check on.

A nurse called Caretaker over to the station, "Doctor, I just wanted to let you know Whumpee is in your office"

"Great thankyou, I've got one more to see", Caretaker smiled, "I hope they got me something good to eat, I'm starving."

Caretaker had managed to get through the first round of patients. He let the residents know what to do next, especially for the ones being discharged.

Caretaker walked back to his office and knocked at the door.

He received a weird look from a younger doctor.

"Hello Caretaker", Whumpee replied.

Caretaker opened the door and smiled at their visitor, "what's going on."

Whumpee was hanging upside down from the couch, "I was trying to figure out an awkward experience for you to walk in on, kind of hoping to make you laugh. I know it's been a busy day."

"Yes, and you were successful. Have you heard about the fire? We have had so many patients in today", Caretaker collapsed into his chair.

"Yes we were watching the news. Momma ordered your favorite, and had me pick it up. We also packed you some essentials", Whumpee brought over the food container.

"Thankyou", Caretaker pulled out the food.

"Do you want anything to drink?", Whumpee stood beside him.

"Yes, could you run to the vending machine and get a water for me. Get yourself something as well if you want", Caretaker handed over their card.

"Do you want me to start a coffee for you as well?", Whumpee pocketed the card.

"That would be great", Caretaker smiled.

Whumpee prepped and started the coffee machine, then wandered down to the vending machine.

When back they sat on the couch and they talked with Caretaker while he ate dinner.

"So what are your plans for the night?", Caretaker sat back from the meal.

"I told momma I'd hang out with for as long as you would allow", Whumpee looked at him shyly, "if that's okay, I won't bother you, I promise."

"That's fine, you can hang out in here, and keep me company", Caretaker smiled, "I better do another round, and check on the patients."

Whumpee smiled, "thankyou for letting me stay."

"You're welcome. Thankyou for bringing me dinner", Caretaker stood, his phone rang.

"Yes, I'm coming out now, I'll be right there", Caretaker winked at Whumpee.

Whumpee straightened up Caretaker's office for him. They would occasionally visit just to do that. Caretaker was busy when in the hospital, so he didn't have much time to keep up with his mess. Whumpee looked over everything and smiled.

"I wonder if he still has my blanket in here", Whumpee opened a cabinet and started to look through a pile of scrubs and clothes, "there it is."

Caretaker had been called to his critical patient's side. They almost were not found during the fire, so they were in the blaze and smoke for a while.

Caretaker was thankful when he heard they were moving and showing signs of life. It was a rough few hours, but they had a good chance now at pulling through.

Caretaker checked on a few more patients before realizing how late it was. Most of the fire victims were done and gone, and the more critical ones were being transferred to the hospital. The emergency room was starting to calm down.... finally.

Caretaker told the charge nurse he'd be their for the night in case they needed him. Just consider him a secondary call doctor if needed. But he desperately needed a nap.

"I'll be in my office, just call me. My child is in there as well", Caretaker smiled.

Caretaker stood outside the door and gently knocked. When no answer came, he gently opened the door and found Whumpee asleep on the floor.

"You found your old blanket even", Caretaker smiled, "that blanket got you through a lot. I don't know why you're on the floor though."

He lifted Whumpee and gave them a gentle squeeze before laying them on the couch. Be readjusted the blanket a little.

Whumpee squinted their eyes open and grinned at Caretaker, "hi", they whispered.

"Hello, I see you found your blanket. Go ahead and go back to sleep. I'm gonna lay my head on my desk and take a nap", Caretaker patted Whumpee's shoulder.

Whumpee nodded.

Caretaker dimmed the lights and rested on their desk.

It wasn't long before gentle snores could be heard from the office, from Whumpee at least. Caretaker could be heard down the hall with his snoring.

All was peaceful.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @porschethemermaid @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath

[much-obliged-timothy]

Whumpcember #5

The Bad Batch - #5 - “I hate you!”

*

“Turn around! Hunter, we have to go back!”

Hunter grit his teeth and kept the ship flying steadily forward. 

Omega grabbed at the controls. Hunter knocked her back, his urgency putting more force behind the push than he’d intended. Omega fell back roughly, a gasp of mingled pain and surprise leaving her as she landed hard.

Hunter wanted to apologize, but he had no time. Explosions were going off far below them, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before they were pursued.

All he could think of was putting space between his team and the Empire’s soldiers. He could not bear to think of the clones below as brothers, not with all the death and destruction they were causing. It wasn’t their fault, but it still turned Hunter’s stomach.

And Omega. They would snatch her back, steal her freedom from her. Steal her away from where she belonged.

“Hunter!”

Omega threw her arms around him, trying to wrestle control away from him. Because she was brave but she was a child, thinking she could take on more than she could.

“Omega, sit down!” he barked, knocking her away again. “Echo, keep her out of my way.”

He knew Wrecker wouldn’t want to do it, not with how upset she’d be. But Echo grabbed Omega, holding her tightly as she struggled and fought against him.

“Hunter!” she pleaded, tears choking her voice. “Hunter, we have to go back. We have to. You can’t leave them!”

He didn’t want to. But he knew when to cut his losses and protect his team.

The hopeless cry Omega let out as they finally entered hyperspace shattered his heart. She went slack in Echo’s arms. He released her slowly, but she didn’t fight him. She just put her face in her hands and cried.

“Kid,” Wrecker said helplessly. 

“We let them die. The soldiers were after us, not them! And we ran while they died!” she sobbed.

They hadn’t meant for it to happen. They’d been lying low in a quiet village when they were spotted and reported. When the soldiers came, they were outnumbered, and there was nothing to do but escape.

And those innocent villagers were paying the price for it. There would be no mercy for them. The Empire was sending a clear message.

“Omega,” Hunter said quietly, kneeling before her. “If we’d stayed, we would’ve died too.”

“They were screaming for help,” she whispered. “And we left them.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder. She smacked it away with surprising vehemence. 

She finally lifted her head, eyes blazing with pain and fury. “I hate you! You ran, like a coward!”

He was too shocked to say anything to that. She drew herself up, glaring at him before turning sharply and storming off.

“I believe hatred of authority figures is quite common for children of that age,” Tech said.

“Not helping,” Echo muttered, elbowing him in the gut. “Hunter, she’s just overwhelmed. She doesn’t mean it. She hasn’t seen war like we have; she’ll come around. She just needs to calm down first.”

How could she, when they were always running like this? When the galaxy was tearing itself apart? When nothing had made sense since the Jedi were killed and the Republic fell? 

This poor kid was growing up in a chaotic galaxy, hunted relentlessly. All she wanted to do was help people and be a force of good in the galaxy.

Hunter looked down at the hand she’d smacked away, his heart aching. Maybe she would forgive him once she’d calmed down and thought it all through.

Or maybe she would hate him forever, never able to forgive him for choosing their safety over the safety of an entire village. He was a soldier, not a hero; a tactical retreat was better than becoming a martyr. 

Hunter closed his eyes. He wouldn’t blame her for hating him after this. But those three simple words would echo through his head and his heart for the rest of his life, tearing him up inside over and over again.

[nebulablakemurphy]

Hello! This might be a dumb question and I know I’m very late because y/n is very pregnant. But I was wondering, how does Haymitch feel about this pregnancy? Perhaps what he isn’t willing to say to y/n because he’s very much a safe place for her. But was he pissed that Snow basically got her knocked up without asking? Is/was he worried about the increased chance of a child being reaped or being outnumbered by children/having a harder time protecting his family?

This is actually a good question because I think his feelings are conflicted. We get a really great passage in the chapter before we find out that she is pregnant, where he says something like “I would ask her for 10 kids or however many she’d give me.” While also hoping that she is not pregnant because he doesn’t want to have more children under these circumstances.

So he wants to have a big family with her, would love more kids. But not in Panem. He’s torn about this pregnancy, in a way he wasn’t with Everest and Arista, because they had some idea what was happening. They knew they had to have a baby, she had to be pregnant within a year. This time there is no warning, just boom, pregnant.

Haymitch loves their baby because it’s their baby. But I think he has similar fears to Y/N, he just keeps to himself. She understands that Haymitch has complicated feelings surrounding this pregnancy, but she’s the type of person who will always blame herself. Like “oh, this didn’t happen as much this time because I was doing (insert whatever she was doing here.)”

When they first got married, there was only one person for Haymitch to protect. All of his time, attention, love, etc. is so dialed in on Y/N that when Everest comes along he feels stretched. Once he feels confident in his ability to care for both of them, then he is stretching again to accommodate Arista, to later accommodate Katniss and Peeta. Now for this baby and he’s starting to feel overwhelmed.

But I don’t think he has the ability to articulate that. Above anything else, he does not want to let his family down. He does not want to let Y/N down.

In his mind, Haymitch has already hurt her so much, done all of these unspeakable things to her, taken so much from her that no matter how bad things are, he will do anything to keep her happy. To make sure that she is ok.

So while she thinks of it as “all the things he’s done for her,” and is so grateful to him. He thinks of it as “all the things he’s done to her,” and is always trying to make it up to her.

[rocksandrobots]

Phantoms of the Past - Chapter 46: Mission Possible: Part 5

Big Hero Six and their allies fought the horde of super powered clones tirelessly but it was no use. Combined with Hardlight's light monsters and Drakken's plant creatures, the heroes were losing ground and fast.

They were huddled together and forced into a corner.

Suddenly the sea of monsters parted and they saw Tadashi fighting Shego. He tried to hold her off, but despite all the practice he had received the past few months it was clear that he was out matched by the veteran supervillain.

With a kick to the chest Tadashi went flying and landed in front of his friends.

Varian and Gogo were there to help him back up as Kim and Ron rushed to take a defensive stand in front of them.

However, Shego didn't move to attack. In fact everyone and everything stopped.

"I think it's time to end this charade, don't you?" Dr. Drakken haughtily called out as he floated above the battle in his hovercraft. "You're outnumbered, outwitted, and out classed."

The heroes stared at him ruefully as he snapped his fingers and the light clones began to advance once more.

"Did you manage to damage the machine any?" Gogo hastily whispered as she and Varian dragged Tadashi away from the worst of the fighting.

Tadashi shook his head. "I wasn't trying to damage it. I was trying to reprogram it. I even managed to re-write the code, but it needs a system reboot to finish loading. I was in the middle of doing that when that Shego woman attacked me."

He rubbed the back of neck, then he caught sight of Hiro and Baymax being flung into one of the glass containers by Drakken's vines.

"Hiro!"

Varian and Gogo held him back, even as Wasabi was captured and shoved into a container of his own by several of the light clones.

"How do we reboot it?" Varian pressed.

"In the back, there's a reset button."

"So someone has to, ugh, has to make their way to the other side of the room to press it." Kim grunted as she punched away one of Hardlight's light bats.

The heroes that were left were being pushed even further back into the corner.

Then suddenly a purple pterodactyl swooped down and picked up Kim and flung her into one of the waiting glass tubes.

"Kim!" Ron cashed after her only to be captured himself by one of the clones.

Soon, one by one, each of the heroes were picked off and trapped in their own glass containers.

Drakken laughed victoriously as he landed his hovercraft and walked over to Kim's tube as robotic appendages started to fitt a nero-headband on her crown.

"Hahaha, ooooh it feels good to finally win! How does it feel Kim Possible? Hmm? How does it feel to be the loser for once?

Kim gritted her teeth and was going to snap back, when a buzzing noise sounded in her ears and a bright light obscured her sight.

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

"At last!" Drakken crowed as he watched as his rival's mind was uploaded to the machine. "Now we can proceed to phase two of my plan for world conquest!"

"Which is?" Hardlight asked.

"We build projectors, at key locations around the globe. With your hard light constructs and my neurospace-combulator, we'll create an army of super powered light clones to attack all at once. Earth's forces will be overwhelmed."

"Until they knock out the projectors." Hardlight pointed out, and Drakken's face fell.

"Well, I'm glad you're thinking ahead," He sneered. "Fortunately, so am I. I'll have shields built to protect the needed projectors, and of course once we've secured new areas we'll build more neurospace containers to add to our army. See? It's all very simple."

"Hmm-mmm... and what's in it for me?"

"Well, that's gratitude for you." Drakken rolled his eyes. "Of course there'll be nice promotions in store for my most loyal followers. Shego's already claimed Iceland, but you can have your pick of the rest."

He wrapped a friendly arm around Hardlight's shoulder. "How about someplace tropical... like Costa Rica, perhaps. Hmmm?"

Hardlight's electronic face display on his mask, raised an artificial eyebrow. "Iceland?"

Drakken shrugged. "Don't ask me. She's the one that has her heart set on it for years now. Haven't you dear?"

Shego however wasn't paying any attention to their conversation. She was counting the nero-containers. "twelve... thirteen... fourtee-... Someone's missing."

This announcement put the other villians on alert, as they counted the glass tubes themselves.

"I see all the heroes here..." Hardlight said, bewildered.

"Wait... where's the naked mole rat?" Shego asked, suddenly realizing who was missing.

"The naked mole rat?" Hardlight slowly echoed.

"Arrrgh! That accursed rodent has destroyed my glorious plans time and time again!" Drakken growled. "Quick we must find the pest!"

The villains scurried around the room hunting the creature. Then Hardlight spotted it.

It was pink and hairless with bucked teeth, and it 'waved' at him!

The pet happily chirped before hopping around on the main control board, randomly pressing buttons and setting off various alarms.

The villains scrambled to stop this nuisance, but they only stumbled over each other, accidently pressing more unwanted buttons and switches, as the mole rat evaded capture.

It would bounce on their heads and run underneath their feet knocking them off balance.

"Gottcha!" Hardlight yelled in triumph as he encased the rodent within a bubble of light.  

His euphoria was short lived though when a furry raccoon popped it's head out from behind the computer.

All the three villains collectively gasped in horror.

The raccoon ducked back down behind the controls and both Shego and Drakken rushed to stop this newest menace.

They were too late.

With a mischievous grin, the raccoon hit the reboot button with its little paw.

Everything then happened at once.

First the alarms blared even louder as warning lights flickered on and off all around the machine.

Then the glass tubes opened up with a rush of steam as sparks randomly lit all around the complex.

Finally, as the superheroes woke up, Ruddiger ran over to Hardlight and before the villain knew what was happening crawled up his pants leg.

Ian tried to shake the creature off him, but Ruddiger pulled himself up onto Hardlight's gauntlet and ripped the exposed wire with his teeth.

"Ah!" Hardlight stumbled back as his gauntlet sparked and smoked.

The light shield around Ruffus faded away, and he and Ruddiger greeted each other with a fist bump as they watched the chaos unfold.

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

"No! All my glorious plans!" Drakken moaned as the supers woke up and slowly stumbled out of their glass cages in a stupor.

More sparks flared, and the machine rumbled. A bit of the roof fell in and light streamed in from the outside.

"Well I'm out." Hardlight announced as he hopped on to his hover disk.

"Wait! You can't go now. We- We just- nee-"

"Face it. Your plan is a bust." Hardlight pulled out the spy microchip from his glove. "But thanks anyways for the new tech. I'm sure I can put it to good use."

The villain's display on his helmet lit up into a sly smile.

"Yooooou! You planted the disc into the system and stole my schematics!"

"Of course! Haha! That was the idea all along. See ya in the funny papers, Drakken!"

He cheekily waved as he flew away through the hole in the roof.

'B-but what about... Ohhh! You're fired from your internship!" He called back to the empty space where the other villain had been, before spreading his arms wide and wailing, "Is there no honor among thieves anymore!?"

Shego ignored his pity party as she grabbed him by his shirt collar and dragged him to their hovercraft. "Time to go Doc!"

As he recovered from being thrown like a sack of potatoes into the back of the escape vehicle, Drakken noticed the heroes coming too, and they did not look happy.

Kim was the quickest to recover. She jumped across the machine even as it started to smoke and flame, hopping from pipe to tube before grabbing hold of the rim of the craft as it began to fly away.

Shego however, kicked her off, even as the supervillainess struggled at the controls.

Fortunately, Baymax was quick to catch her when she fell.

"Ha! You think you're all that, Kim Possible! But You're NOT!"

Drakken's taunt was a bit premature as, a weakened, but very much aware, Fearless Ferret launched a miniature grenade he pulled out of his utility belt using his grappling hook.

The little disk attached itself to the rear stabilizer of the hovercraft right as it made it through the roof. A small explosion ripped apart one of the back thrusters and the escape pod tilted widely to the right.

Both villains had to fight with the controls to keep the craft in the air as they flew away in an erratic pattern.

"Uhhh... shouldn't we go after them?" Wasabi asked.

His answer was in the form of a small earthquake, as explosions ruptured all over the machine and more of the roof came down, blocking off the side of the room where the hole had been.

"I think we'd better get out of here instead." Hiro said as the room shook a second time. "This whole place is about to blow."

Varian whistled for Ruddiger as the rest of the heroes ran out of the room; the younger ones helping the elder supers out, who still hadn't fully recovered yet. The raccoon scurried over the rocks with Rufus on his back. Varian scooped both pets up and was the last to dash out of the door as the rest of the control room burst into flames behind him.

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

"Shego?" Drakken whined as he he hugged her legs tighter. "That shark is eying me awfully suspiciously again."

"For the last time, grr, sharks don't eat people." Shego rolled her eyes as she fought against the waves.

Fortunately the hovercraft could double as a boat, but with one of the motors now missing she was stuck at the wheel, constantly forcing the craft back on course.

Drakken meanwhile was less than useless during the whole ordeal and it was up to her to save both their necks yet once again.

Why did she put up with him again? What was it Hardlight had said? 'Why play second fiddle?'

"I know they don't." Drakken whimpered again, breaking through her thoughts. "b-but what if the  shark  doesn't know that? You'll fight him off, oh won't you? For me? Please?"

She looked down to see him looking up at her with pleading eyes. She'd never admit it, not even to herself, but he did look cute when he was being so pathetic.

"And do I get raise for fighting off the big bad fish?" She sarcastically asked.

"A Raise!?'---Ahh! He nibbled me! Did you see it?... Finefinefine. Yes you'll get a raise."

"Alight. I'll protect you from the shark." She grunted again, she fought with the steering wheel. "assuming we don't capsize first."

Drakken hugged her legs even tighter. "Oh thank you Shego. Thank you. You're the strongest, bravest, most wonderf-"

"Okay... I get it!" She yelled back to shut up his groveling... but she couldn't fully hide her smile as she steered them towards land, far away from the city's outskirts.

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

Hiro, Baymax, and Captain Fancy flew down to meet the rest of the heroes in the park under a large elm tree.

"Emergency vehicles showed up and are already putting out the fire. Looks like they got it contained." Fancy said as he landed.

"And more importantly, there were no injuries." Baymax added.

"But it looks like the villains have gotten away again." Hiro sighed. "Baymax and I couldn't find any trace of them."

"That's okay." Kim reassured him. "It'll take awhile for Drakken and Shego to get back on their feet again."

"Though who knows what that Hardlight will be up too." Ron cautioned.

"Don't worry, We can take care of him if he shows up again." Wasabi said.

"Yeah, and Ruddiger messed up his gauntlets so he'll have to fix his tech anyways." Varian added as his faithful pet nuzzled his face.

The raccoon then hopped off his arm and ran to Rufus, where they shared a pawshake.

"Ooohhhh!" Honey Lemon squealed. "And hurray for Ruddiger and Rufus for saving the day!" She scooped the two animals in to a tight hug. "You're both heroes and sooo adorable. Yes you are."

"Yeah!" Ron agreed, "Three cheers for Ruddiger and Rufus!"

Pets beamed at the attention as the supers cheered.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm very happy we're all alive, but can I get back to my vacation now?" Tadashi said, interrupting the moment. "I gotta get back with the milk before Grandma starts wondering where I am."

Varian and Hiro shared an eye roll before Varian, having received his tech from Tadashi earlier, created a new portal, right in front of a Tokyo convenience store.

"See ya Monday!" Tadashi called back to them and hopped through the portal.

Everyone waved back until the portal faded away.

Varian reached down and picked up one of the fallen portal magnets. "Well that's it for the portals for today. I need to recharge these babies back HQ."

"Oh! That reminds me." Ron exclaimed as he looked back at his phone."Arghh! We missed our flight back to Middleton! I guess there's not enough juice to send us across the country, huh?"

"Sorry." Varian apologized.

"Oh, but my finals presentation! How do we get back in time now?" Kim asked, a hit of fear in her voice. "We'll never get new tickets, before then. Everything was booked solid for next three weeks cause of the holidays coming up."

"I think I might know a way." A voice sounded out.

Kim pulled out her communicator, but it was blank. "Wade?"

"Up here!" the voice called out again.

Everyone looked up to see Wade driving a flying convertible!

"YOU HAVE A FLYING CAR!!!???" Fred practically screamed with joy.

"He's so cool." Wasabi whispered in awe, beside him.  

"I figured you guys might need a lift." Wade called down towards them.

"And a helping hand." Mole's voice said beside him.

The short pre-teen hopped up from the backseat and stood upon the rim of the door wearing his dinosaur themed super suit.

"Evil villains beware! It's Flamejumper to the rescue!"

He jumped out of the car and landed on the ground safely with a bounce from the hidden armatures inside the suit's legs.

"NO way! Mole got to ride in the flying car before me!" Fred whined.

"Hahaha! Suck it, Ferdricson!" Mole gloated, "Now where are the bad guys?"

"Sorry Mole." Hiro said, "But we already took care of them."

'Aw man."

"Also what did we tell you about the super suit. " Gogo reprimanded him.

"B-but how am I supposed to learn how to use it without hands on experience?"

"You're not." Fred snapped. "You're not joining the team. N-O. No way. Nun-uh. Besides, why would we need another novice when we got the legendary trio themselves to join the team? Right Fearless Ferret?"

Fred laid an arm on the Fearless Ferret's shoulders.

The Ferret shared an awkward glance with his older colleagues, and then removed his mask with a sigh.

"I think... I'll be going back to retirement actually, and you can just call me Mr. North from now on, Frederic."

Fancy joined his friend's side. "Tim's right. I think, if today's little adventure has taught us anything is we should be trusting the future generation of superheroes to carry on our legacies and maintain the good fight."

"Future generations, like potential in-training supers?" Mole hopefully questioned.

Hiro sighed as he tilted his head back. "Fine... I'll set up a training regime in the holoroom at HQ. But you aren't allowed to wear the suit anywhere else."

"You'll mean you'll teach me to be a superhero!? Yes! Hahaha! You lose, Fred!"

"And Fred will be your teacher." Hiro added. "He'll decide when you're ready or not to join us."

"Nooooooooo!"

Both Fred and Mole called out simultaneously.

"Well it looks like a happy ending for all." Ron joked. "Come on Rufus. Next stop home."

"And  home work." Kim echoed fearfully as she followed Ron and Rufus to the flying car hovered just above the ground. "Finals, thesis papers, presentation speeches..."

"And you'll ace them all." Ron said with a smile, grabbing her hands into his own.

Kim sighed. "How can you always be so sure?"

"Because, we've tackled supervillains, evil robots, giant bugs, alien invasions, and even rabid ninja monkeys…" he visibly shuttered at that last revelation.

"Aliens?" Honey Lemon whispered to Wasabi who could only shrug, equally confused.

"And no matter what," Ron continued, not hearing them, "no matter how bad things got, we got through it together. You can do anything, Kim Possible, because I got your back. Worse case scenario, you retake the final. No big. Not like you won't pass the first time with flying colors anyways. Am I right, Rufus?"

The mole rat on his shoulder nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh, Ron." Kim exclaimed as she gave him the biggest hug. "You're the best."

"I know it." Ron smiled as he returned the hug, then he looked back to the waiting heroes. "Do you need a lift home, Mr. North?"

"Ah, thank you for the offer, but I think Hank and I had other plans."

Captain Fancy, smiled wide and nonchalantly said, "Oh I thought maybe a fishing trip, or a nice getaway to mountains. Do some skiing. Gotta spend retirement someway right?"

"Speak for yourself." Lima said beside him. She leaned against her staff, fully unamused, as she stared at her phone. "The Mongoose just texted me about Cobra breaking out of jail again. I'm heading to Singapore to investigate."

Mr. North shook his head in bemused resignation. "You don't ever stop, do you?"

"Nope. But I'll give you a lift to the lake in my chopper."

"Chopper?" Varian asked.

"She means her invisible helicopter." Hank explained.

"Hey we can't all fly." Lima defended, as pressed a button on her keychain.

A loud whirling sound soon was heard over head and the wind picked up as the apparent helicopter arrived. Not that anyone could see it.

"Baymax, can you get a read on the chopper?" Hiro asked over the den.

"I can not." The robot replied.

Then the wind died down as the aircraft apparently landed.

"You like?" Lima proudly said as she gestured to what looked like nothing.

"An invisible helicopter!? That is so cool!" Fred exclaimed. "Or, you know, it would be if I could actually see it."

"Eh…" Mole shrugged, "it's not cooler than the flying car."

Lima put her hands on her hips. "Everybody's a critic."

"I think it's pretty neat." Wade said as Ron and Kim finished boarding the car. He gave it a crank and the vehicle hovered off the ground again. "The cloaking tech is a little dated, especially with all the recent progress with nanite technology, but it's a cool vintage piece."

"Vintage!?" Lima fumed, but the car was already flying away.

"Bye!"

"Nice meeting you!"

"If you're ever in Middleton look us up!"

Everyone waved goodbye as they flew away.

"Vintage." Lima huffed again. "Of all the arrogância!"

"Uh-oh, she's cursing in Portuguese again." Hank commented. "We better get going before she breaks out into a full rant."

"Agreed." Mr.  North laughed.

"Just one question before you leave." Wasabi interrupted. "I get that Mr. North here invented a bunch of gadgets like us, but where did you two get actual literal super powers. Like how is that even possible?"

"Oh that? Well I used to work as a janitor at a high clearance experimental government facility." Hank explained. "They specialized in nuclear energy and well, heh, OSHA didn't exist back then."

"Wait! That's not what happened in the comics!" Mole snapped.

"Oh the whole alien from space bit a cover up from the government. They didn't want me to sue… and I didn't want to be dissected in a lab. So I agreed."

"So you're really a mutant? Awesome!" Fred said.

"I can't believe the government would just threaten you like that." Honey Lemon bemoaned.

"Oh the US government is covering up things like that all the time." Mr. North shrugged. "Like that alien invasion that happened about eight years ago, remember that, guys?"

"Wait, what?" Honey Lemon blinked as the elder supers nodded in remembrance.

"Oh yeah, they had the test screen cycling for days hypnotizing everyone to forget it." Hank laughed, as he and Tim entered the invisible chopper and disappeared.

"What?" Honey Lemon echoed again as they left.

"I knew it." Mole whispered beside her.

As everyone remained mystified by this latest revelation, Gogo continued the questioning.

"And you? How did you get super strength? The gym?"

"Magic." Lima said, simply.

Hiro rolled his eyes, this being a bridge too far for his sensibilities. "Okay, no. Magic doesn't exist…. Not in this world anyways."

"You think so, mano?" Lima smiled as she walked closer to them, using her staff as a walking cane. The pointed tip began to glow blue. "The world is a much bigger place than you could ever imagine."

She leaned in close as she whispered this, and suddenly Varian's hairstripe began to glow as well.

He clamped his hand down on top of his forehead quickly to try and hide it.  Everyone saw anyway.

"Waaaaiit… th-that rock, your spear is made out of," Hiro stuttered. "Wh-where did you get it!?"

Lima either didn't hear him or ignored him as she had already turned away and was walking towards her aircraft.

Hiro ran after her.

"No, please… you don't understand…"

He heard the chopper turn on again and a heavy wind began to blow.

"I need to study-"

"Adeus meus amigos!" Lima called out as she leaned out of the door of the helicopter. She was seemingly hovering several feet off the ground now, and half her body had disappeared from view. "Till we meet again!"

She waved and then ducked back inside, disappearing completely now.

"Wait! L-lima… your spear…. Aaaaand she's gone now."

Hiro said as the wind died back down as the helicopter flew away.

Everyone turned to look at Varian, still standing there with his hand on his head. Varian gulped.

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

Ian finished loading the files onto his computer from the stolen spy chip, and sat down to begin decrypting.

"Now let's see what we can do with you?" He said out loud as he waggled his fingers over the keyboard insides his darkened office.

The light of the computer threw up irregular shadows upon his face as he read through the code.

He broke out into an evil gin.

"Bingo."

[wingherc]

｢𓆄｣ Yuri is making this task next to near impossible, because he can't possibly focus on keeping Yuri alive while also focusing on Jin. It's clear that Hawks is overwhelmed, with his already dwindling numbers in useable feathers further strained by the fact he's now helping Yuri keep up with attacking and dodging clones with a boost in speed.

"I did warn you. You just didn't think too hard about it." Did he not think Hawks could move his feathers without purpose? That was rude! "They move on my command, and I just made sure you didn't get knocked out." He's smug now, but it's growing increasingly obvious that they're getting outnumbered. Twice's quirk was out of control.

"I just need to think!!" But time wasn't on their side, and one of the clones took the opportunity of Hawks being distracted to grab the hero's arm, twisting it with the very intention of breaking it.

That opportunity to think never came, this was happening all too quickly, and Yuri's appearance threw him off kilter. Hawks totally wasn't on his A-game now, and it was glaringly obvious. The most he can do now is follow through with the double's motion, effectively breaking his own arm to use the momentum to push forward and break through the clones to get as close to the original Jin as possible.

If he wasn't running on pure adrenaline, that would've hurt like hell, but, the pure shock running through his body hasn't quite caught up to his brain.

While Hawks wasn't one for sacrifices, he does know one thing: someone's gotta make it out of this nightmare-ish hellscape, and it should be the person who didn't belong.

"Hey, Yuri!" He's given up trying to rationalize with Jin, it was for naught, this was only his nightmare, no matter how much Hawks wanted to save Jin it just wouldn't happen. Not here at least. Maybe back home.

"When I get back: do me a favor. Book a double date at a nice restaurant, put it on my bill." With the send off of a terribly timed bird pun, the feathers hooked to Yuri's clothes shoot off with him in tow, tearing him away from the scene while Hawks tries his best to wear Bubaigawara down.

Once far enough, the feathers grind to a halt, falling limp and lifeless. While it might've been safe to assume they were just too far from Hawks that he just lost control of them. It's the way that the nightmare that Yuri had once found himself in had also notably disappeared, with no way to reenter the manor as that had seemingly disappeared into nothing as well.

a lot to process, there... it's clear now that hawks is overcompensating, conflicted for one reason or another. why else wouldn't he just run their foe through? it's none of yuri's business if he'd rather keep it vague, but the recognition's there...

good thing yuri's used to rapid battle tactics after his time as a knight. he's actually willing to listen to hawks' advice, too; his nightmare, his rules.

before he can think to agree, feathers tug him out of harm's way, the swordsman letting out a mild "whoa!" at the unexpected pull.

"neat trick, but a warning would've been nice," he chides. helpful or not, hawks better keep that to a minimum. "good to know you have my back, at least. here, let me return the favor!" he follows up with a concentrated explosion from his palm, aimed at a clone coming up the other man's rear, leaving a muddy splatter in its wake.

he'll give the guy one thing: with these feathers, yuri's flying!

it's a temporary triumph, however. with his unexpected entrance upping the ante, each felled clone hardly makes a dent in their enemy count at all! the space is closing in fast-- targets swinging from all directions. any decent battle should have a few well-placed blows on both ends, obviously, but this is ridiculous!

"agh--!" pain flaring in his shoulder from a jab meant for the face, just barely dodged and countered, "getting a little too close for comfort, hawks! what's the holdup?!"

[alatusprinz]

" my oath to you . "

pairing : xiao x f!reader

genre : smut with plot, angst themes/undertones

tw! : near-death experience on reader's side, mentions of blood

summary : when you accidentally get into a life-threatening situation, the vigilant yaksha struggles to control his feelings. he had to feel you, he just had to inhale your scent, listen to your beating heart, and perhaps more.

warnings : sexual content, overprotective behavior, slight obsessive tendency mention, unprotected sex pussy-drunken state mention, emotional sex, cumming inside etc

-

You barely had time to breathe when you inevitably noticed the utter severity of your circumstances. Shiver travelled down your spine, your body tensing up in fear of what seemed like it would result in death with one trivial mistake. After all, you were unfortunately aware of the sheer overwhelming number of the agents surrounding you- ten of them as you could see.

"I must say I'm put off by the lack of honor. What could the Fatui want so desperately from a mere Liyue citizen that ten of you come ambushing a single target?" You scoffed at the lack of reply, all that they provided was condescending giggle from some. Clearly, they seem to be perceiving your abilities and words as no more than a pest.

A small voice at the back of your voice demanded- call him. Call his name, you know he'd come for you.

One moment filled with hesitation slipped past your fingertips- there was always possibility of him being preoccupied. Perhaps you could fight them off alone, then find means of escape. You couldn't always rely on him, could you?

Then another moment past, your thoughts were left unanswered as the agents came charging at once. You desperately tried to fight off the ones who came in offense. Holding your stance and defense was the best you could do against them, and even that was proving to be a threatening task. Your stamina was already running low from returning from a lengthy journey, not to mention your electro energy having difficulties breaking through the shields of some.

The voice called out again, this time with more desperation- Call him! You can't last against them, they outnumber you!

You used a significant fraction of your remaining elemental energy and released a shockwave, knocking away the ones close to you to regain gap enough to at least call for Xiao. With half the mind to finally realize your current state was incapable of holding all of them off, your grip on your weapon tightened.

As soon as you could, you opened your mouth and tried to call out for him, only for you to realize moments too late that a pyro agent in front had finished preparing his slash, and was dashing towards you with full speed. Your mouth went dry, eyes wide from fear, panic and- there won't be enough time, not even Xiao could possibly arrive faster than a blink of an eye-

Then your vision went dark.

Temporarily.

All you could remember was a wisp, and then a furious, murderous force of wind knocking away the Fatui agent in front of you. Your body was swept into someone's arms, holding your trembling body with a tight grip. Even without opening your eyes, you could feel the familiarity in his scent, his protective hold on you. You opened your eyes and whispered his name while yearning for nothing more than his blazing warmth enveloping your figure. And judging from your shivering body, the fear from a near-death experience remained very much evident.

"The information was right, we have to report it back to Lord Harbinger!" One of the cicin mages yelled out, signaling the others to escape. With one slash of his polearm, Xiao silently saw to it that the ones attempting to leave were... hindered. The mastery of battle arts he possessed was definitely a sight to behold, you had to admit.

The hand wrapped around your waist tightened, Xiao's mask glowed in an eerier dark color than you remembered. His fury, bloodlust and wrath was almost visible to bare eyes- the air growing thicker each passing minute. Xiao made the slightest of movements, and he was keeping the Fatui agents unable to escape, yet still wounding them little by little. Almost as if he was deliberately taking his time.

You flinched slightly when a cicin mage let out a bloodcurdling scream from whatever blow Xiao landed on her, you avoided looking at them when you could. Xiao surely then, noticed your uneasiness with the sight of blood.

Placing you on the ground gently, Xiao ripped out a long strip from fabric on his sleeve. With incredible amount of stone-cold calmness, he wrapped the fabric around your eyes, like a blindfold.

"Don't move and keep the fabric on your eyes." Even with your sight obscured, you felt calm since Xiao was there with you. As long as he was there, you knew no harm would come. You nodded, silently remembering once again that he could have easily ended the battle the moment he arrived. That he could have swung his spear with one precise blow and possibly ended all of their lives with no more than a lift of his finger. You gulped, since it left only one option as to why he had been taking his time with them. Perhaps he did not see the reason why as to their death should be quick and clean.

Surely enough, their voices did not quiet down as fast as you expected. Your brows furrowed in slight discomfort from how some sounded like they were pleading for mercy, and then the eerie silence following. Stopping Xiao didn't seem like an option, however. After all, you imagine you too, would finish someone off yourself if they had threatened Xiao's life.

Amidst your thoughts, you noticed that it had finally fallen silent around you. When you reached for the fabric around your eyes, Xiao's gloved hand prevented you from taking it off.

"Keep it on." I don't want you to see this brutality- this evil I'm bound to commit as long as I walk this earth. Xiao's thoughts echoed silently inside the safety of his mind, the idea of you being frightened by him leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

To you, Xiao's voice sounded ambiguous, like he wasn't even sure on how he felt then. The both of you struggled to find words to say when he lifted your body with ease (being an adeptus, this proved itself to be an action of utmost ease to him), and teleported to where you expected to be your familiar room in Wangshu Inn.

Your vision slightly wavered from the sudden light when Xiao slowly pulled the fabric off your eyes. When your sight cleared, there stood Xiao, amber eyes fixated on scanning from your head to toe for signs of injuries. Surely enough, minor ones were bound to be left behind.

"You're hurt." You two murmured at the same time to one another. You referred to the slight cut on his forearm, a small one that you imagine is stinging like hell at that point. Xiao's brows furrowed as he kneeled down and slowly caressed your calf. You hadn't even noticed the slight scrape on your lower calf, it didn't hurt at all.

"It's fine, I can't feel anything really." You tried to comfort Xiao, but his expression visibly fell somber.

"Did you kill them?" In an attempt to divert his attention from your scrape, you managed to ask him the question in slight curiosity, slight concern on what his answer would be. After all, if he had really killed them, would that be a diplomatic problem for Liyue and Snezhnaya? They were usually regarded as diplomats, after all.

"I don't fancy murdering humans." Noticing your concerned expression, Xiao replied curtly. His sullen expression never changed.

"Why didn't you call out for me?" His voice was eerily grim, cold. The tone he used cut through your heart like a knife, and perhaps you deserved his brusque attitude after what you got yourself into.

"You didn't call my name, not once. What were you thinking?" Xiao's voice got louder as he spoke, roaring and demanding answers from you. You had never seen him like this, absolute fury burning in his eyes, his grip on your ankle grew tighter as well. You avoided looking at him, squirming in what felt like regret, the discomfort making your stomach drop.

Xiao's heart was beating too loud, too fast for his liking. Just the mere thought of your helpless expression when that lowlife attacked you, how your mouth fell open and no sound left them, all of what he had seen sent a bloodcurdling feeling of terror, horror through his veins. Heavens, he was about to lose you. On the land he was sworn to defend. The events flashed in his mind like a rewound tape, Xiao clutched his shirt in frustration and lack of awareness on how to control this swarm of unsettling emotions.

"I saw it, the hesitation in you. Do you- lack faith in me that much?" Xiao's golden eyes glistened in what looked like conflict. His mind raced with millions of thoughts, what if he had lost you there? What if he wasn't there around the area? What if he didn't make it in time? He gritted his teeth, the realization that mere swift connection of coincidence and luck were what allowed him to save you today made his blood boil. Not from you calling his name, just because coincidentally he happened to be around the area. Otherwise... he refused to think further if things were otherwise.

"...I'm sorry, Alatus. I really am." You didn't have any other words to say, fully shouldering your irresponsible, immature thoughts of solving the problem alone that had almost cost you your life. You kneeled down as well, and grabbed Xiao's hand. Slowly slipping off his gloves after seeing that he didn't seem to mind, you held his both hands in yours in an attempt to calm him down. You were holding his hands in yours, skin warm, alive and breathing in front of him. This was the least you could do.

Xiao half-hated how you managed to calm his racing thoughts and heart with a mere touch of your skin. It made him feel vulnerable sometimes, but today he didn't have the privilege to question such trivial matters. As he once again glanced at your slight scrape that looked like it may start bleeding, he suddenly remembered how you looked when he came to your rescue. Trembling like a leaf, your eyes avoiding the sight of blood- blood he unfortunately was too used to. The sight, smell, texture on his skin or clothes, everything about it was nothing unusual for the vigilant yaksha. But just then in his arms, Xiao painfully remembered how you tremble even in his hold. Blood scared you, murder, death, violence... they all scared you. Of course it would- he had half the mind to remember that you were a fragile mortal. You should be scared of them, naturally. But does that not mean that you were bound to be scared of him, too?

Once again, Xiao's rational mind failed to function for once. His golden eyes only held his instincts as far as you could see.

“I love you.”

Your eyes widened at Xiao's words. You had scarcely ever heard those words from him before. Even if he did say it, he would normally whisper in a tone quieter than the calm nocturnal breeze, as if he didn't even want you to hear him. But just now, he-

"I love you." Once again, Xiao repeated with the same voice, unwavering, almost confident tone in his confession.

The moment your eyes met, his breath is on yours in a heartbeat, lips molding against one another like second nature. You shivered slightly when he pulled you closer by cupping your face with two shivering hands, his slightly calloused bare hands always felt pleasant on your skin. Amidst your relief and blood rushing to your head from the overwhelming emotions, Xiao whispered the precious words of oath tenderly again. Once and twice more, you lost count with how intensely he embraced you in his warmth.

“I love you.” Again, he whispered against your lips. You sighed into the kiss, slightly taking notice of his vocal tone- you were certain you had never heard this hopelessness? want? from his normally monotonous voice before. He sounded so... expressive. Just as you tried to reply, your chance was stolen again with how desperately he clung onto you, his kiss mesmerizing as always.

In the heat of the moment, Xiao pushed you to the bed, not parting your connected lips and laced his fingers with yours. You barely managed to gasp into the kiss when he firmly pressed- or rather, slammed your slightly-trembling hands to the mattress. After he pulled away from the kiss reluctantly, he took a few moments gazing at you. You couldn’t help but frown at his complex expression whilst he lightly caressed your body under him. His amber eyes were as radiant as they were in your lovestruck daydreams.

Leaning in closer, Xiao took a moment to rest his head in the space between your neck and shoulder. His tense body visibly relaxed against the warmth of your body while trying to steady his shaky breath to listen to the sound of your heartbeat better. After all, you were okay. God, after all the chaos that struck, after everything that happened- you were okay, you were with him… alive underneath him. He thought he lost you. He saw you- He- He saw all too clearly how you gazed at him. He saw the look in your eyes with gaze full of fear, panic when you couldn't even manage to whisper his name for one last time and- fuck, his mind clouded over with wrath, disappointment, and concern again-

You noticed how his face almost grimaced, eyebrows furrowed in deep concern and worry. With how tightly he was holding you, pressing his lips, kissing every inch of your skin he could, it was hard not to notice. With a deep sigh, you lightly pulled your hand away. Your original intention was to caress his cheeks to calm him down as little as you could.

“Xiao- ”Well, at least attempted to before Xiao’s eyes shot open and slammed your hands back down again.

“Don’t.” You took a sharp breath and stared at him with wide eyes at his sudden actions, making his expression soften once more apologetically. Even if he didn’t verbally express it, you knew how hard he tried to treat you gently, kindly as mortals expressed.

“… Please. Let me feel you.” You relaxed and caressed his hand holding yours with your thumb, taking notice of his pleading gaze. It was ultimately your fault too, endangering your mortal self as he criticized often. You gulped and pushed away the frightening thoughts of what could’ve- what was about to happen if Xiao hadn’t sensed you- if Xiao had arrived merely a millisecond later than he did.

Xiao's entwined fingers pinned your hands down deeper as he placed chaste kisses on your neck. You couldn't help the sigh of pleasure, his lips simply scattered what seemed like innocent kisses on you. Your relaxed state changed when he started sucking, greedily inhaling your scent and nibbling on your sensitive skin. Even the smallest scrape of his sharp fangs made your back arch, whining in his ear for more.

The concept of leaving marks on your lover's body never appealed to Xiao much. When he saw you, his eyes always adored how pretty your skin looked, clean, unbruised and unhurt. The body he worshipped and loved more than anything, he frankly did not understand why leaving bruise-marks were desirable. Until now.

"X-Xiao?" You noticed how he was attempting to leave hickeys on purpose, to your surprise. This is new. He pulled his hands away from yours and instead placed one on your shoulder, other gripping your jaw to offer him space to leave his marks.

"Stay still." His authoritative tone sent a wave of arousal through your body, more so when Xiao sunk his fangs around the hickeys forming on your neck. You couldn't help but notice how restless Xiao was today, his actions and kisses all felt desperate, needy.

"You're beautiful." While you were overwhelmed with how his hands were pulling at your clothes and barely wasting any moment to dive right back into worshipping your body. Every inch of you was his to mark, kiss, and adore. Even tarnish, if he pleased. A twisted sense of pride overtook his senses.

His hands felt incredibly warm against your burning skin, every inch of you yearning to feel more of Xiao. His hands explored your body, caressing, grabbing and undressing as he saw fit. Your hands also moved on its own to undress him, revealing his toned chest, a pretty sight to behold. As soon as you were done with taking off his clothes, he pushed you down again, lips planted onto yours in a shared vigorous kiss. A fresh sense of arousal flared through your body from how different he was today, he wasn't as careful and gentle as he was. No, he was commanding, desperate, needy and... And you liked it a little bit too much perhaps.

"Xiao..." You suddenly felt unable to wait any more, you needed to feel him inside. Peppering kisses down your body, he hastily pulled at your trousers and underwear, then gazed at you from in between your legs. The sight alone had your breath hitching in excitement.

"I- I can't take it anymore, can you..." You found yourself stumbling over your words when Xiao's warm tongue licked a stripe on your inner thigh, peppering soft kisses towards your glistening cunt. He ran his fingers over your heat, faintly reminded that your wetness was a proof on how much of an effect he had on you. Xiao's sight was fixated on your expression as he left love bites on your inner thighs as he did with your neck, his amber eyes darkened in insatiable lust. The similar pride from earlier clouded his senses each time your face twisted and moans left your puffy lips.

Pride. Yes, that's what he felt. After all, only he could do this to you, make you feel this way- Make you his.

Your eyes fluttered open when you heard rustles of Xiao taking off his remaining clothes. His normally neat hair was slightly messy, radiant golden eyes much darker and clouded than your memory serves. He pressed your foreheads together, leaning in as close as he could. Your warmth calmed him down, perfect body molding so prettily in his hands.

"I love you." Your heart swelled with a swarm of emotions from how vocal he was. Finally for the first time today, you had the chance to reply.

"I love you, Alatus." You circled your arms around his shoulders, attempting to feel him closer. That was all he needed to hear.

Your mouth fell open when Xiao sunk his length into your cunt, your nails digging into his shoulders in desperation. The dull pain mixed with the pleasure of being stretched open clouded your senses, your body tightening around him in natural response. Almost immediately when he pushed all the way in, both of you let out a sigh of pleasure.

When he finally notices the relaxing in your muscles and perceives your comfort, Xiao begins moving against your heat. With every thrust, your cunt seemed to suck him in as he dragged himself out to the very tip, then slamming it back in. Your cheeks felt hot to the touch when lewd sounds of skin slapping and mattress not-so-subtly creaking filled the room. Two bodies burning with desire, love and lust, your vision went hazy form the overwhelming emotions and physical pleasure. Before you could tell, you had absolutely zero control over your voice as you let out the embarrassingly loud moans spill despite your attempt to restrict it.

Xiao's burning gaze never left your face, your eyes and how your body reacted to him. His brain short-circuited, entirety of his thoughts were screaming - (name). (name). (name). He greedily observed, drank in your body’s reaction to him. If this is how he can make you look and sound- He wanted more.

"You're so beautiful..." Xiao molded his lips against yours as soon as the words left his mouth, sucking on your tongue in a needy manner. His quiet moans escaped into the kiss, along with your gasp when his hands hold onto your waist and slams harder into you. His pace remained stable, yet his forceful, deep thrusts sent shocks of pleasure through your body. When he proceeded to grind lewdly against your core, your voice trembled as a high-pitched moan was ripped out of you. Xiao noticed how your body tensed up, amber eyes observing you in a lust-driven stare. The higher he realized he could take you, the greedier he became for your pleasure.

You were acutely aware of Alatus' gaze on you, his stare was never subtle to start with. The hungry look in his eyes, the way he had his way with your body, he didn't even look like he was fucking you into the mattress for his own pleasure. In fact, his eyes darkened, pace got faster each time your moans got louder. Your pleasure was his greatest oasis- to a man starved to quench his thirst.

"I'm all yours" You managed to form the words that's been lumped at your throat for the entirety of today. Xiao's eyes briefly glossed over in pleasant surprise.

"I'm yours, Alatus. I love you, I love you so much." You ran your fingers through his hair, gazing into his eyes. He looked the prettiest on top of you like this.

Suddenly like a switch flipped in his head, Xiao grabbed your hands and resumed his hard, deep thrusts. Only this time, the pace got faster as each moment passes by. Your mind couldn’t focus on anything else other than the sweet sensation of his thick cock filling you to the brim and forcing out sounds you didn’t know you could produce. When he dragged his veiny cock over your sensitive spot, you shuddered at the feeling.

With each moan he heard from you, the hazier Xiao's mind became. You were with him for life, you loved him as he did you. Your hearts were one and you were his- his, his, his. All his.

As the possessive thoughts flooded his senses, Xiao grabbed onto your hips harshly and started moving your body in response to meet his thrusts. The way he forced his raw cock, used your body to freely match his pace sent a flare of heat through your body, the arousal coating Xiao's cock almost starting to drip onto the sheets.

"Y-You like this." Xiao's voice trembled subtly in sight of pleasure, yet his authoritative tone withheld. You nodded vigorously, unable to form coherent sentences without stumbling over your words.

"Tell me what I can do- more to make you feel better" Your pussy clenched around his cock even more when he asked so adorably how to please you. Pulling your hips against his even harder, you noticed his set-pace faltering as his orgasm approached rapidly.

"I'm already really close-" You managed to reply and reached out to rub your clit against his movements. The moment you started flicking, circling your clitoris, an electric feeling of pleasure made you moan out loud, your vision slowly fading to white. Trails of fire was threatening to break loose in your lower stomach, your high approaching. With a violent shudder, your orgasm hit you hard, like a wave of burning flames taking over your figure.

The sight of you so desperate for him was what sent Xiao over the edge. His beautiful, beautiful lover, all his under him. His own eyes glossed over in pussy-drunken state, he couldn't stop his hips, he just couldn't go another second without the intoxicating feeling of your warmth squeeze around him. Your body twitched from the dull aftershocks of overstimulation, yet you still wanted more. So did Xiao.

You see, the more he indulged in his pleasure-driven force, the greedier Alatus felt. All he wanted was more, more of you, more of your body, pretty moans, and this overflowing emotions, warmth in his chest- (love).

I want you, I want all of you- Xiao wanted to whisper into your ear, repeat it until you finally realized how desperate he was for you. Perhaps it was beyond greedy to desire more of you while fucking you, but it was of no importance. From how tight you squeezed around him when you came so prettily, all of the memories and your beauty overwhelmed him- and just as he drank in your overstimulated sight, Xiao's movements went tense. His cock pulsated inside you, and you gripped the sheets in an attempt to keep what little shred of sanity left in you. Both of you panted, basking in each other's afterglow.

With an endearing look in his eyes, Xiao leaned in closer to claim your lips once more. You smiled into the kiss,

and the rest was history.

[sparkypantaloons]

A Straight Blade

Bruce teaches Jason how to shave.

~

At first, Bruce is too stunned that his son alive, to do much more than internally scream Jason's name, everytime he sees him.

A strange mix of love and guilt and joy, shame and fear and relief, flooding his veins whenever the Red Hood shows up. Or is heard over the comms. Or is mentioned by literally anyone within ear shot.

Because that's Bruce's boy. That's his Jason and he's back and he's alive and he's not dead!

And okay, yes, he's also absolutely furious with Bruce. And alright, so maybe he keeps trying to kill his brother's. But he's alive. Jason is alive. Jason, Bruce's son. His darling boy.

It takes a little while for Jason's fury to subside. And Bruce will be the first to hold his hands up and say that okay, maybe he could have handled that whole situation better. But every interaction with Jason overwhelms him.

Because every interaction is a flood of emotions he has spent years of his life trying not to feel. Guilt for letting Jason die and relief that Jason came back. The fear that he might lose him again and so much love he doesn't know where to put it. How to let it out.

Jason's return to the fold is slow. And to begin with, it's strictly Red Hood business. Bruce doesn't see him without the helmet for months at a time. And when Jason is without his eponymous Hood, it's usually because something has gone horribly wrong. In which case Bruce is too busy trying to fix things (and not implode with panic) for him to notice much anything else.

Which is why, he supposes, it's taken him so long to notice just exactly what it is that has been (literally) staring him in the face for a while now.

He's sat at the breakfast table in the kitchen, slowly making his way through a plate of bacon and eggs, even if it is one in the afternoon.

Damian is sat beside him, a half eaten bowl of soggy cheerios pushed away, as he colours in one of his drawings. His tongue pokes out the side of his mouth.

Across the table, Jason watches the ten year old. His pancakes and berries are untouched.

Patrol last night had been a struggle, with only Batman, Robin, Orphan and Red Hood on patrol they'd been outnumbered from the start. Dick was injured, Steph had finals and Tim was undercover with Kon (Bruce tries not to think about whether or not that's a euphemism). Even Kate was out of town.

So of course that meant there was mini gang war down on the docks.

The four of them had put on an impressive display holding things together. At least, until Robin was sucker punched in the head, that is. The blow had come from behind and knocked the ten year old out cold, sent him falling into murky waters of the bay.

Orphan had him out in no time, but Jason hadn't let Damian out of his sight since. It made Bruce's heart skip a little.

"What're you staring at, you old creep?" Jason mutters darkly, stabbing absently at his pancakes.

Bruce shrugs, "I'm not staring—"

"You're staring." Jason scowls. "Knock it off."

Bruce dips his head in acquiescence. Truth be told, he had been staring. It wasn't often he got to spend any real time with Jason, even less so out of their suits.

Before he'd died, Bruce had known Jason inside out. How his shoulders raised when he was nervous, or the way he twitched his nose before a lie. The cowslick that fluffed up his curls and the dimple on his right cheek. How he walked and talked and slept and ate. A thousand tiny details only a father could see.

Jason is so different now. So much bigger than Bruce had ever imagined; broad and tall and strapping. His face has filled out, with a handsome brow and strong jaw. And his skin is free of so many of the scars he had before. Even his eyes are different. Now a golden green, instead of the deep blue they had been before.

But there are still tells of the old Jason hiding there, just beneath the surface. Bruce just had to keep the younger man around long enough to rediscover them.

Like the way he still clicks his tongue when he's bored, or rocks on his heels when he's impatient. How he pushes his hair to the right (Bruce can't believe for a second he's brushing it) just like fifteen year pld Jason did, or huffs a breath through his nose when he's annoyed.

All the signs that the Jason who was and the Jason who is, are the same sweet boy are there. And Bruce doesn't to miss a single one. There's already so much he missed.

"What happened to your face?" Bruce asks, reaching his hand for Jason's jaw.

Jason bats his hand away, looks at Bruce as though he's lost his mind. "Probably the three hundred goons I had to fight last night?" He bristles.

Bruce ignores his son's irritation. He touches a finger to his own cheek. "You're bleeding." He taps twice. "Just here." There are more than a few similar marks, but Bruce doesn't want to push his luck.

Jason bristles again, cheeks turning pink. "I cut myself shaving." He says, and swipes at the cut with the cuff of his hoody.

Damian makes a clicking noise with his tongue, and Bruce knows the barb is coming. "I'm amazed you haven't taken your own head off." He snarks.

Jason shoves his chair away from the table, temper flaring. "Well it's not like anyone ever taught me, is it." He hisses. "That's enough of this haunted old dump. I'm out."

He heads for the door. Bruce watches him go with a pang in his chest.

~

It's almost six weeks before Bruce sees Jason without the Hood again. The younger man is coming off the back of a nasty toxin, has missed patrol for most of the week after being hit by some of Poison Ivy's spores.

Bruce knocks on his apartment door mid-morning. Knows the recovery period is just about over.

Jason opens the door in his pyjamas, groggy and unkempt. "What do you want?" He grunts.

Bruce holds up the bag in his hands, he's brought supplies. "I brought supplies." He says.

Jason eyes him for a moment, like he's considering slamming the door in Bruce's face.

"The supplies include chocolatines." Bruce adds.

Jason makes a face of disgust. "It's a pain au chocolat you animal." But he steps back to let Bruce through.

Bruce makes his way to the kitchen. Tries not to despair at the run down apartment Jason is living in. Doesn't want to scare him off by offering to buy him the best the city can offer.

Instead he busies himself with making tea, sets the pastries out on a plate.

Jason slouches at the kitchen table. He still looks wiped out from the toxin. Skin pale and stubble almost beard. He watches Bruce with narrowed eyes.

"Et voila." Bruce says, placing the Earl Grey down in front of the younger man. Just a dash of milk, no sugar.

He tears off part of one of the croissant, dips it in his own tea.

Jason wrinkles his nose at the gesture, but doesn't say anything.

"How're you feeling?" Bruce asks eventually. The pastires are all but crumbs now, the tea only dregs.

Jason shrugs. "Fine I guess. It wasn't that bad." His shoulders are up by his ears.

"A decent shower and you'll feel much better." Bruce offers.

Jason shrugs again. Doesn't say anything. He eyes the bag of supplies on the chair next to Bruce. "What else did you bring?" He asks.

Bruce takes a deep breath. If he's not careful this idea will go horribly wrong. "Supplies." He says again, and Jason rolls his eyes, so he adds quickly. "Shaving supplies actually."

Jason stares.

"Well, I—" He cuts himself off. Tries again. "I'm a little late." He says. "But if you wanted, I thought I could teach you how to shave."

Jason's cheeks turn pink and he looks like he's fighting back a retort.

There's every chance the younger man will take the suggestion as a slight. And just as many chances that Bruce will scare him off, too familiar too soon.

Jason keeps his eyes fixed on the floor, shrugs his shoulders even higher. "Um. Yeah, okay." He mumbles without looking at Bruce. "Sure."

Bruce tries not to look too excited.

~

He gets Jason to shower first, the warm water softening the skin and hair follicles. Then they stand together in the tiny bathroom, wait for the mirror to defog.

Bruce lays out his supplies beside the sink.

"So you have three options." He says, as he does so. "Option one is your straight razor." He puts the pen-knife looking contraption down. It has a refined wooden handle, and a gleaming silver blade.

"Second is your generic razor." He holds the plastic packaging up that contains the razor. "This one has a moisturising bar. I hear it's the best a man can get." He says with a wink.

Jason rolls his eyes with a grunt, but there's a small smile playing at his lips thst he doesn't quite manage to hide.

"And third." Bruce says, holding up a black box with silver writing. "Is an electric shaver."

He turns to Jason. "What do you reckon?" He asks.

Jason shrugs, eyes his options unsure. "Which one do you use?" He asks.

"I like a straight blade." He says, "but it's not always as convenient as the other options.

Jason shrugs, non-commital.

"Let's start with the straight blade. If you can get this right then the other two are a cake walk."

Jason nods and Bruce pulls out some shaving gel. "Okay, you've already washed on the shower, so first step - lather!" He says, squeezing some of the gel into Jason's hands.

Jason rubs the gel on his face, head tilted back as he looks in the mirror.

"Make sure it covers everywhere you're going to shave." Bruce says, gently guiding Jason's hands down under his chin. "You want it to be a good lather, so really..." He trails off, takes over from where Jason's hands have dropped to make sure the gel is properly applied. Rubs circles over Jason's jaw line and up by his ears. Jason's eyes are distant, as he does, like he's trying not to think about something.

"Okay." Bruce says, after he's rinsed his hands. He picks up the wooden handled razor, pulls the blade out to a right angle. "You want three fingers here, between the scale and the shaft, with your pinky on the tang and your thumb just below the blade."

Jason blinks stupidly. "Huh?"

Bruce holds up his hand to show him. "Like this, see?"

"Then, you want to hold the blade at a thirty degree angle from your face and do short, sharp strokes down your face. In the same direction the hair grows." He hands the razor to Jason. "You don't want to apply pressure, just lightly touch the blade to your face. The angle should do most of the work."

Jason stares at the blade wide eyed. "Err..." He says.

"Do you want me to show you?" Bruce asks. He takes the razor back as Jason nods.

"Okay, tilt your head slightly." He touches his fingers to Jason's chin, gently angles his head. Stands so Jason can see what he's doing in the mirror. "See how I'm holding through blade?" He gently lays the cool metal on the side of Jason's face. "Just short, little strokes." The blade lightly slides not even half an inch down, bringing away the stubble and foam as it does. "You might need to do it a couple of times." Bruce says, repeating the motion. "But nice and easy is the way to go."

"Okay." Jason swallows, then "Show me one more time."

Bruce ends up shaving half of Jason's face. Showing him how to manoeuvre around his ears and down his neck. Under his nose and over his chin.

Jason does the other half. Much slower.

"That's it." Bruce says, tilting with the blade as Jason reaches his neck. "Just take it nice and slow."

Jason finally finishes, turns his face right then left to look in the mirror. Runs a hand over his chin. "Not bad." He shrugs, small smile on his lips. There are two nicks on the side he shaved himself, but nothing too serious.

"Here." Bruce hands him a tiny shred of toilet roll. "Pop these on the cuts."

Jason does so, watches at Bruce gets even more out the bag. "Okay, use the towel to make sure all the gel is off." He says, chuckling as Jason ducks the towel that flies at his face. "Then we moisturise."

He squeezes the aftershave moisturiser into Jason's hands, motions for him to rub it over the freshly shaved skin.

"And that's it." He says. "You're done."

Jason surveys himself in the mirror again. Gives Bruce a small smile before looking away. "Thanks." He says. "I'll have to get me one of these." He hands the straight razor back to Bruce.

Bruce shakes his head. "Keep it." He says. "Just make sure you keep it sharp."

Jason nods, mumbles his thanks. Pretends not to notice the golden T. W. monogram on the handle.

~

"This is foolishness." Damian scowls, face flecked with shaving cream, the remains of a popped balloon in his hand.

Tim jabs him in the ribs with his finger. "If we lose it's all your fault, Damian."

Damian's scowl deepens, Bruce swipes the razor out of his hand before he tries to disembowel Tim with it. "It's just a game boys." He says.

"It's so much more than a game." Steph says with a smirk, waving a perfectly 'shaved' balloon at them. "Looks like the batgirls are going to win again." She says triumphantly, high-fiving Babs.

"I hate game night." Duke groans. His hair is full of shaving cream.

"Sorry I'm late, losers." Jason announces loudly, as he walks through the door. "Some of us have jobs."

"You don't have a job." Cass deadpans.

"Gimme that." Jason ignores her, takes the blade from Bruce. "How many balloons to win?"

"Five, zombie-boy." Babs says. "You don't stand a chance."

Jason gives Bruce a quick wink. "We'll see about that."

Bruce feels his heart skip.

[wild-lavender-rose]

Saving the Enemy

Pairing: Legolas x fem!reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: You’re Gandalf’s granddaughter. When you and the dwarves are captured by the spiders and subsequently freed by Bilbo and the elves, you meet a certain blond elf and save him from an unexpected spider attack. However, your defense leaves you badly injured and at the mercy of the one they call Legolas.

Warnings: Battle violence, injury, blood, fainting

     “Where did they bloody come from?!” Thorin swung his sword around in a circle, dispatching three of the gruesome spiders scrambling towards the two of you.

     “I don’t know,” You ducked the blade just before it sliced you in half, using the position to slash a spider’s legs out from under it. “But do you truly want to question it in this particular moment?”

      There was a flurry of movement, and you looked to see two of the elves effortlessly take out six different spiders with their blades and arrows. Before they had appeared you and the dwarves had been outnumbered and overwhelmed. Now, there was hope that you just might survive this.

    “They’re going to take us all prisoner.” Thorin’s eyes were flashing with anger as he fought, sending murderous glances at everyone and everything in his path. You weren’t sure if the anger was directed towards you, the elves or the spiders. Perhaps it was directed at all three. Thorin always seemed to have anger to spare.  

    A shout caused both of you to look around, spotting Fili being slowly cornered by one of the largest spiders you had seen yet. Fili was scrambling for his sword which had been knocked from his grip and was lying just out of reach.

    Thorin broke into a run. “Go help the others!” He yelled, getting to Fili just in time to save him from the spider’s snapping jaws.

    You nodded and turned, but before you could so much as lift your sword you were struck from behind. Hard. You cried out and fell to your knees, scrambling around to look up at the tall, blond elf who had hit you.

    “Stay down!” He ordered. His gaze darted about the clearing, assessing the battle. In his hands was a beautiful elvish bow, an arrow notched on the string and ready for the next attack. After hitting you he hardly spared you a glance, carrying himself with the arrogant air of royalty.

    “Why must Thorin always be right.” You growled, gripping your sword and preparing to fight the elves as well as the spiders until you saw a flicker of movement just over the elf’s right shoulder.

    Without thinking you kicked the elf’s legs out from under him just as a spider attacked from behind, causing the spider to fall on you instead. You cried out as the weight crushed your legs and chest, losing your sword as you fought to keep the spider’s snapping jaws from engulfing your face. You managed to reach down for the dagger at your side, slipping it free and plunging it deep into the spider’s belly. The spider shrieked in pain and clambered back, your dagger still protruding from its body. An arrow whistled through the air and pierced the spider’s largest eye, killing it instantly.

    You pushed yourself up and began to search the forest floor for your sword, keenly aware of the fact that the battle was coming to an end. The remaining spiders were making a hasty retreat, while the elves had begun to turn their swords and arrows on you and the rest of the company. You needed to fight. You had to. You spotted your sword peeking out from under a spider carcass and grabbed it, making to roll to your feet and defend yourself against the elves. 

    However, the moment you were on your feet an explosion of pain engulfed you, so hot and intense that your vision swam from it. You bit your lip hard as you looked down at your right thigh, noting the free-flowing blossom of blood soaking straight through the fabric of your pants. The spider must have pierced you with one of its fangs, or perhaps one of its legs during the attack. You gripped your sword tightly as the elves took notice of your movement and started to surround you, glaring at them despite the fact you were growing weaker and more fearful by the second.

    “What are you doing in our forest?” the elf who had hit you was now interrogating your group, his eyes flicking between you and the dwarves huddled in a protective circle. You knew from the tales your grandfather told that this was Legolas, prince of Mirkwood. 

    “Filthy elves.” Thorin swore loudly as he smacked away the arrows pointed at him and crossed to you. “Can’t you see she’s injured?”

    “There will be more than just injuries if my questions go unanswered.” While Legolas’s tone remained arrogant and demanding, you saw him hold up a hand to his soldiers when they attempted to stop Thorin from going to you.

    “You worry over a scratch, Thorin.” You breathed, the fear in his eyes causing your own fear to grow. Your leg hurt badly, so much so that you didn’t trust yourself to take even the slightest step. Already you were covered in sweat from the strength it took just to stand.

    “A scratch doesn’t bleed that badly.” Thorin muttered, looking back to where Legolas stood. “Typical of your kind. Watching idly as someone suffers.”

     The elf’s jaw tensed. He gestured to his soldiers. “Search them. Take all of their weapons and bind their hands. I’ll see to the wounded one.”

    “If you touch her,” Thorin snarled, bracing himself in front of you.

    “No, Thorin, they will kill you.” You put a hand to his broad shoulder, resisting the urge to lean against him. “Please.”

    Thorin was still for a moment, until the logic and truth of your statement fully sunk in. He allowed the elf soldiers to guide him back to the others, his gaze never once leaving Legolas as he made his way towards you.

    “Drop your sword.” He commanded.

    “Or what?”

    “Or I will have you killed.”

    You glanced at Thorin who was being disarmed by one of the soldiers. His gaze was equally pained and infuriated. With the utmost reluctance, you dropped your sword to the ground.

    Legolas was coming even closer now, causing you to panic and take a reflexive step back. This move proved itself fatal, as you immediately lost your balance and collapsed to the ground. Black spots blurred your vision. You tried to struggle back to your feet, but before you could so much as push up onto your elbows a hand pressed against your shoulder. “Enough.” Legolas muttered, his tone soft. “Stay down. I will not harm you.”

    “You lie.” You spat, giving a cry of pain as he began to examine your injury. You fell back onto the forest floor, squirming helplessly against the long, cold fingers prodding open the tear in your pants to assess the bloody wound.

    Thorin was shouting your name but the pain was too great for you to answer. You pushed against Legolas’s hands. They seemed as unmovable and uncaring as stone. “Please,” you gasped, holding his gaze when he looked up from your wound. “Allow me to go with the others. I can walk, I promise,”

    “I have had soldiers sustain wounds such as this. We must apply pressure to stop the bleeding and you will have to be carried.” Legolas reached into a pouch at his side and withdrew a roll of bandages.

    “Would it not be easier to leave me here to die?” You bit your lip so hard it bled to keep yourself from screaming as another wave of pain hit.

    “Would it not have been easier to allow the spider to kill me?” Legolas’s expression softened.

    If you hadn’t been fighting against the pain then you might have thought him handsome. But Thorin’s angry voice at the other end of the clearing reminded you of the situation. To him you were a prisoner. An enemy.

    “It was a moment of weakness.” You muttered, cringing as he began to wrap the bandage around your thigh. The pain was overwhelming. Blood was filling your mouth from biting your lip so much.

    Legolas’s gaze moved down to your lip, his brow furrowing at the sight. “It would be better for to express your pain in other ways.” He breathed, reaching out to wipe the blood from your lip with his thumb.

    You shook your head, fearful of the pain he would cause by applying pressure to the wound. The concern on his face grew. “I will be swift. Judging by the blood loss, you should lose consciousness quickly.”

    “Please, no. Please,” you began to whimper as Legolas reached for the bandages and looped the ends into a knot. “Please, I beg of you! No!”

    Legolas did not appear to listen, looping the ends again and giving them a quick jerk. 

     Your screams rang out through the forest, causing the dwarves to struggle against the soldiers and call your name. Their anxious voices were the last thing you heard. And Legolas was the last thing you saw, his worried expression following you into the dark depths of unconsciousness.

Part 2 for Legolas x fem!reader

Part 2 for Thorin x fem!reader

Fanfic Masterlist

[getblammed]

Of course, of fucking course. Pico takes a quick trip to the convenience store down the street from his apartment to grab some late night snacks, doesn’t feel the need to bring his gun since the walk wouldn’t even take five minutes, and that’s when a gang decides to come after him. Turns out a recent target had had gang affiliations, and the gaggle of easily pissed off men didn’t take too kindly to one of their own being knocked off.

Lacking his trusty firearm, Pico would have typically settled for his fists, but he wasn’t an idiot. He was outnumbered, unarmed, and skill could only do so much against the numbers game. He hadn’t stopped to see if any of the men were armed, only wanting to get the hell out of there, the redhead had gone sprinting out of the convenience store, not-so-gracefully pushing past whoever got in his way and probably shoving over one or two people in his haste. With heavy sets of footsteps quickly closing in, apologising for being a dick wasn’t his top priority.

Sharply turning a corner in an effort to shake off his pursuers, Pico gave a strangled shout as a large hand snatched him by the back of his shirt and pulled him backwards, only to be struck across the face the second one of the attackers could land a blow. Fists swung wildly in an attempt to retaliate, landing some solid blows of his own, yet despite his efforts to shield himself from the many strikes and fight off his attackers, the merc was dazed and outnumbered. The men clearly had some anger to take out on him. Kicked and punched and shoved from all sides, the redhead lost steady footing and was forced to the ground under the flurry of blows, head striking the wall on his way down, and the assault only continued on from there. Trapped between concrete, brick and an onslaught of winding kicks and stomps, the redhead could only manage a few dizzied attempts at striking back until he was overwhelmed. He just had to endure the beatdown until they got bored of it, that was all. He’d handled worse.

It was the worst day she ever had. She got scolded a few times, by customers and her boss. The workload is unbearable. Debbie cursed under her breath. She returned home only to find out that her fridge was running out of food, meaning that she has to go out again. Her motorbike had ran out of fuel... Guess she'll have to walk then.

The moon hung high in the sky. Neon signs flickered to life, casting a glow onto the sidewalk below. She grumbled as she left the store with a huge bag of groceries. Her mind pondered to elsewhere until she was startled by someone shoving her out of their way. She almost fell over, almost pilling her groceries out.

" HEY ASSHOLE! " she yelled at the direction where the person had gone.

A group of men flew past her, seemingly in hot pursuit of someone, who was, surprisingly, a familiar figure. Ginger hair. Her anger quickly subsided. What was they after him for?

@getblammed is spotted !

[venusiangguk]

let the games begin | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader

>>genre: pwp, smut, gamer!jk, light fluff at the end, established relationship 

>>word count: 5.7k

>>warnings: dom!jk, BRAT oc, but rly she just wants to be good 😔, big dick koo, spitting, spit eating, boobs, unprotected sex, cream pie, um...oh!, crying, crying during sex, not from pain tho, oc just gets overwhelmed :(, aftercare kinda?, boobies, comfort, idk man, riding, weird pet names lmao, oc is so tiny, big jiggly fat tits, OMG COCKWARMING, that’s literally the reason i wrote this lol, breasts, when jk cums.... v sexy, low key one sided sex 🤷🏻‍♀️ 

>>notes: all gamer lingo is from reddit, bc me and oc are the same in the way that we have no idea what the boys that are ignoring us for video games are saying so if it doesn’t make sense idc 🥲 yell @ me in an ask or sumn

>>summary: just another fic where oc rides jk in his gaming chair 🙄 pls still read it tho lmao its hot i promise

Hours. Several increments of 60 minutes. Multiple thousands of seconds. It’s been hours since Jeongguk has even acknowledged your presence. You huff and sigh dramatically, rolling around on his bed, accidentally knocking his Zero Two body pillow off. Good riddance. She’s part dinosaur. But still, nothing takes his attention from his prettily lit gaming set-up. You’ve come to your last resort.

Laying back on his pillows, you bunch your skirt up around your waist and then slip your hand down your teeny tiny, baby pink silk panties. They say ‘slut’ in small little silver rhinestones on the front. A gift from you’re extremely rude, extremely sexy talented gamer boyfriend. You let out an over the top moan, hoping to break through the sounds of his game. He does not move a single inch. Ever persistent, you stay at task, actually getting a little turned on with your quick moving little fingers rubbing over your clit. You let moans fall from your mouth freely, thinking about one of the few times he actually let you support him from under the desk. You drooling all over his swollen, uncut cock. Him leaving his mic on at your request. Him struggling to get out coherent sentences to his teammates. Him struggling to keep from moaning as he came silently down your throat. Mmm.

“Tae, Min, rush the blue zone?” He speaks into the mic. You can hear the clicking of his keyboard, as his fingers flit over the control keys. His head moves slightly as his eyes jump between his two monitor set-up trying to take everything in. And just like that, at the sound of his pretty voice, cute lisp and all, your mood is broken. You wanna hear that voice in your ear, calling you names (mean or sweet, you’re not picky), not talking about blue rushes or whatever. Your eyes roll.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself and slow your rapid breathing before you crawl to the foot of the bed, closer to him. His room is rather small, so the elaborate set-up he has extends almost to the end of his mattress, barely enough room for the gigantic chair to swivel around. However this is a plus for you because it makes it so you can rest your chin on his shoulder without disturbing him too much.

“NO! Do not rush blue! Are you stupid or just a fucking idiot?” Jeongguk flinches from how loud Jimin’s shrill voice is, coming from his headphones. Even you can hear it. “We just lost Hobi. We are outnumbered 6 to 3. In what fucking universe would a rush be a good idea? Are you trying to get flamed in a ranked match?”

“Okay damn, I forgot Hobi got no-scoped,” Jeongguk chuckles. He gently, minisculely, oh-so softly shrugs his shoulder, hinting that he wants you to get off, without saying it, knowing you would very-likely, potentially be offended and a little upset. But you don’t move. If he wants you off he can be a big boy and tell you. Maybe you even dig your chin into the tendons of his shoulder on purpose just to be a brat. He still doesn’t say anything apart from a tiny hiss of pain. In fact he deals with you pestering him until you start to mouth at the side of his neck, biting gently. Wet, open mouth kisses leaving a shiny trail on his pulse.

“Okay, you can’t do this right now.” He says, shrugging his shoulder hard, making you accidentally bite your lip. You whimper. “I’m in a ranked match, and we are already getting our asses handed to us. I can’t focus on you right now.” He doesn't even look at you, face glowing in the light of his pc. He probably doesn’t even register how harsh his words sound, too engrossed in the game.

You’re still close enough to hear from his head set when Taehyung says, “Is that __?” He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Yeah.” Is all Jeongguk says in response.

“Hasn’t she been at your place for like 4- On your right! On your ri- nice Kook- for like 4 days?”

“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend.” His tongue sticks out as he types in a combo attack. He smiles when he lands a kill.

Not for long you think. If he keeps this up, you’ll be finding other ways to spend your time. Like giving yourself a manicure with those cute little sanrio decals he got you the other day. A pretty manicure that would look so cute wrapped around his even prettier thick, hard, pink cock. Keywords being would look, not are going to look. He’s getting ignored for at least 15 minutes. You pout thinking about how you’ve been ignored for at least 3 hours. But still! You remain resolute in your punishment. No kisses, no handjobs, no nothing.

“I literally always hear her bitching about you playing,” Jimin chimes in, snickering. “Tell her to go paint her nails or something.”

Your jaws drops. Then Jeongguk has the audacity to chuckle. You see red.

“FUck this! And fuck you, and fuck your friends, and fuck your stupid ass no-scope, flame ass, rush ass game. And especially fuck you Park Jimin, I hope you never receive a blowjob ever again!” You stand up, pushing your skirt down, and buttoning your sweater all the way to the top. He will not be seeing your cleavage as you make your exit.

“AFK AFK-“ Jeongguk says quickly, getting tangled in his wires for a minute before accidentally tripping on the leg of his chair. You can hear the distant protest of his teammates coming from the abandoned headset. He hisses at the pain from almost falling, and grabs you by the arm, pulling you back.

“Let go of me!” You try to yank your arm out of his hold, very much throwing a fit. But he’s too fit, and you end up facing him, mouth set in a firm pout, and your eyebrows are scrunched in anger. You’re very tiny, but you hope you look evil. You’re eyes watering out of frustration probably doesn’t help though. His hands are firm and strong on your shoulders, keeping you in place.

Close the fucking gyms.

“Hey, hey,” He says, like he’s trying to soothe you. His big hands rub up and down your arms. You hate how it makes your anger die down just a smidge. “What’s wrong, why are you leaving?” He asks. He’s bent a little at the waist so he’s face to face with you, his big eyes searching yours.

Your bottom lip wobbles and your chin gets those ugly dents in it as it quivers. You sob. “B-because you’re n-not even paying att-t- attention to me!” Big cry baby tears roll down your cheeks. Jeongguk looks like he’s trying not to laugh and you give up. Head falling back, mouth hanging open in miserable wails as you drop to the ground defeated. You’re sat in a ‘w’ your skirt pillowing around you. You think you’re much too cute to lose your boyfriend to a video game. But you did your best, fought a valiant fight. It happens to the best of girls, you suppose.

“Chicken,” He coos the odd nickname he had bestowed upon you in the first month of dating. He drops to the floor as well and you can still hear the laugh in his voice. It only makes you cry harder.

“You’re laughing at me while I’m c-crying?” You blubber.

“I’m not!” He says, very much still laughing. He cups your face in his palms, thumbs wiping away your tears only for new ones to quickly take their place. He does his best to still his features into a more serious expression. A hint of a smile still lingers. “I’m not. I just think you’re cute, that’s all.” He kisses your nose.

You blink wide eyed, at the little affection. Then you remember you’re supposed to be having a tantrum. You sniffle.

“Will you please get back on the bed? I’m almost finished.” He asks gently.

You groan. “You’re still going to finish your game? While I’m crying?!” You blink rapidly, willing some more crocodile tears out of your eyes, that had been mostly dry prior.

“Chicky,” He whines, “It’s a ranked match, you know I can’t just quit.” He looks like he’s about to beg you to understand.

And you do. Gaming was really important to him, and he was really good at it, even earning a side income from streaming. But you’re a brat. One that has been neglected and ignored for hours. One that is always desperate for his attention and affection. Not to mention you’re still wet in your panties.

“Your friends were mean to me. They laughed at me.” You whisper, pout turned on heavy.

“They didn’t mean i-“

“And you laughed with them.” You cut him off, tears once again welling in your bambi eyes. You know you’re being a baby, but him laughing really did hurt your feelings.

His face falls and he looks like he’s grasping at straws trying to find a way to defend himself, but ultimately he gives up. He sighs and his head falls. “I know. That was mean of me, and I shouldn’t have done that. But I didn’t mean it,” He looks at you again. His fingers play with the edge of your skirt. “You know I didn’t. And you know I’m sorry. Right, chicken?”

You fight an unwanted smile and swat his hand away. Your resolve is crumbling quickly, but you still have it in you to be petty.

His shoulders sag. “What do I have to do to make you see I’m sorry?” He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers running down your cheek and your neck to fiddle with the top button of your done up cardigan. He catches your face lighting up and quickly interjects, “Besides quit the game.”

You huff.

His fingers undo the button he was playing with. “Do you want me to yell at them? Hmm?” He nuzzles your cheek, placing a soft kiss to the apple. He’s undoes another button. With the pull and tension the sweater had on your tits gone, they fall just a little and jiggle lightly. You still say nothing. “What if I let you sit with me while I play?” Another button. “And why are you so covered? Can’t I see?”

You’re a weak, weak girl.

You don’t protest as he removes the sweater from you completely, and pulls the collar of your shirt down so that your big tits spill out the top. He cups his hands around them and squeezes. So squishy and so so soft. Plush. He groans and buries his face in between them.

“You could suffocate me with these and I would say thank you, I love them that much.” He swats at them lightly watching as they bounce before settling back into place, perky and waiting for his mouth. But he doesn’t give in easily, pinching a nipple instead.

“Ouch!” You whine. You cup your little hands around them, to protect yourself. There’s so much overflow it’s obscene.

He spanks your butt lightly. “Alright, up. Let’s finish this game so that I can make you my own little creme-filled donut.”

Your eyes light up and you hurry to get to your feet. Cream-pies were a treat.

He settles all the way back in his gaming chair, and opens his arms for you. You straddle his waist, facing him, knees on opposite sides of his hips and you scoot as close to him as you can, arms wrapping around his neck. Your boobs are pressed to his chest, still out and bouncing freely with every shift of your body. Incentive for him to end the game quickly. You can feel a little semi in his pants. A sweet pink feeling bubbles in your chest. He got kinda hard just from touching your tits a little bit. True love. You settle over his cock, wiggling a pinch more to get comfy. He hisses and grips hard at your hips, trying to keep you still.

“If you’re up here you have to be good.” He warns, pushing you back some so he can look you in your eyes. You avoid eye contact, looking everywhere but him. The led lights look really pretty on the baby blue setting.

“Chicken…” He lowers his voice, sounding stern.

You whine, dropping on his lap even harder. “Fine but like- you have to hurry.”

“I will, now quit moving and hand me the headset.”

You reach back and grab it. “Don’t forget to yell at them.” You remind him with a kiss.

He gives you an exasperated look before turning the mic on again. “Back.” He says, adjusting the mouth piece.

“Finally! Jesus. Tae’s dead-“

“I’m still here though.” Taehyung interrupts.

Jimin carries on swiftly. “And I’m low on health, what took you so fucking long?”

“You were an asshole and I had to fix it.” You look at him while he looks past you, typing away.

“Me?!” Jimin squawks.

“Yes you. Both of you. You laughed at her.”

“So did you!” Taehyung defends.

“Yeah and it was fucked up.”

“Meet me by the tower to give me a med-kit. God she’s such a prissy little baby, Kook. You are so pussy-whipped.”

Before Jeongguk can reply you speak into the mic. “And you’re such a prissy little dwarf Jimin, shut the fuck up.”

You hear Jimin's loud cackle through the speakers on Jeongguk’s ears. “You’re all of what? 3’6? I don’t even know how Kook can be so whipped for someone who can’t even take his dick properly.”

Taehyung laughs, and Jeongguk starts to speak up, but you beat him to it. “You’re awfully concerned with what my boyfriend does with his dick. If you wanna ride it, just say so.”

“Oh you know I would, baby.” He’s still laughing when he says it.

Everyone’s kinda chuckling except you, small hands fisting Jeongguk’s shirt. He gives you a side-glance, and notices the angry scowl you have on your face. He brings a hand down and squeezes your butt for a second, showing you you still have his attention, at least somewhat. “Alright, that’s enough. Both of you.”

“Tell them I’m the only one that can ride it.” You pout, fingers scratching at the base of his neck, hands playing with his long hair. He nudges into the touch a little. Pretty kitty.

“Shhh, they know and you know. Everyone knows you’re the only one that gets to ride my dick.” He kisses you quick, and you hum content.

You hear a gagging noise in the background. Taehyung probably.

Then there’s a ping.

It happens so fast, you really can’t even be mad at Jeongguk.

“Oh that’s Yoongi! He wants to play ranked.” Jimin says.

“Uh-“ Jeongguk tries to speak.

“Just leave this match and we can join one with him, I’m tired of just sitting here. I don’t care if we drop down the rank list a little.” Taehyung says.

“Guys wait don’t a-“

“Okay same, I just accepted. Yoongi, you there?”

You hear a confirming grunt from the speakers. Jeongguk looks at you, panic in his eyes. Your stare back is sharp as daggers. Cold and hard.

He whines. “You guys are shit ass friends. You know she’s not gonna suck my dick for like a week now.”

His friends laugh and your little brain forms a thought. A very good one indeed.

You card your hands through his newly bleached blonde hair, still soft and silky despite the chemicals. Demeanor quickly changing from small and evil to small and cotton-candy sweet. You kiss his nose sweetly. “It’s okay, baby. Do your best. Show them how good you are. I wanna see you win.”

He looks at you with wide doe eyes. “Really?” You nod. “If I win this match I might go up a tier.” He smiles and sounds so happy. You almost feel bad for being a brat earlier. And for what you’re going to do now.

You’re good for a while. Let him play his little heart out. You let him do his thing for long enough to ensure that he’s fully engrossed in it once again. His little mouth is hanging open slightly , and his eyes move frantically across the screens. He keeps talking gibberish to his teammates, the ones that you’ve all but tuned out at this point. You take your chances, and press your lips to the side of his neck.

Jeongguk stills for a split second, but otherwise pays you no mind. Which is no problem. You weren’t very patient often, but you could be when you needed to. In the right circumstances. You place another kiss, this one wetter, your tongue coming out to meet his skin before your lips do. You keep your kisses light and quiet so his teammates don’t hear. You take in his scent, so sweet and gentle and just him. After nuzzling in for a small moment, you nibble at the vein running up his neck. You gasp softly and your pussy pulses in your panties when he just barely tilts his head, giving you better access, and more room to kiss and suck.

You pull back a little to look at him, but he doesn’t even seem like he’s aware you're there. If it weren’t for his subtle eager movements, you would think he’s ignoring you again. But this is good. You like him like this. Eager but nonchalant at the same time. It’ll make it even better when he loses it after trying to keep it cool for so long. You squirm until you’re off his lap and on your knees looking up at him.

Finally he meets your eyes. He shakes his head.

“No.” He mouths when your hands reach for the waistband of his sweats.

You jut your bottom lip out and whisper, “I’m not gonna suck it, I promise.”

He regards you silently for a moment before not saying anything and returning right back to his game. You grip the elastic of his pants and when you gingerly start to pull them down, he lifts his hips just a little bit to help you. You have to bite your lip to keeping from moaning.

Something about him ignoring you while simultaneously helping you in the slightest, most basic ways makes you go crazy. Like pussy pooling, mouth drooling, brain shorting crazy. It’s almost like you’re so irresistible to him that he just can’t go without you. Needs you just as bad as you need him, even though he fights it. But giving in tastes sweet, just like you. That’s why he always does it. Just for you, all for you.

With his sweats down his thighs, you see his cock. He went without briefs today, making your job much easier. Sometimes the stars just align and you’re meant to have a cock in you. You sigh and you look at his, resting against his leg. Your mouth waters and you just want it in your mouth so badly, desperate for it… but you deprive yourself for the sake of what you have in mind. He’s not hard yet, cock just a little plump and heavy with arousal. You spit in your hand and rub it on his cock just enough to make it wet, not wanting him fully erect yet.

As you raise to your feet his eyes go back and forth between you and his monitors. He looks confused.

“Uh- Yeah let’s rush…” He says distractedly as you climb back onto his lap.

You look at him as you move your soaked panties to the side, and run a finger over your clit. Your mouth opens in pleasure but you don’t let yourself moan. Your expressions are enough to make his pupils blow out and his irises to darken. You bring your shiny fingers up to his mouth. “Taste?” You whisper.

Again, he does the bare minimum. Just barely parting his lips, not moving forward even an inch to suck them into his mouth. Once they are in, he sucks lightly, gently, almost like he’s teasing, like he’s kinda bored. His tongue licks lazily at the tips, and slips between them.

You lean down and move one side of his headphones off his ear. You whisper, “That’s it, drool all over them.” You shove them in farther and press down on his tongue, trying to take just a little bit of control, but the slight change in your tone, and your actions makes him bite down on your fingers. Letting you know that that was not how tonight was going to go. That was never how it went with you two. You pull them out with a gasp. You scowl at him angrily. All he does is raise an eyebrow, before returning to his game. Jimin’s screaming at him through the headphones asking him where the fuck he is.

“Hey, sorry I got distracted. Where are you guys?”

“Get your dick sucked on your own time, Kook….”

You tune them out once again, reaching your hand in between yours and your boyfriend's body. You grab his cock, just a little firmer than when you were on your knees. You grab under the tip, and push it into your core about an inch before Jeongguk’s covering his mic and whispers scolding, “I’m not hard, __.”

You look at him, and nod cutely. “I know, I just- I wanna just feel you a little bit. Keep it inside me while you play. Feel close to you.” You give him soft baby kisses all over his cheek while you push it in some more. You’re dripping so even though he’s still kind of soft, it’s not too hard to get it all the way in.

“I’m not fucking you while I play.” He warns you.

You shrug against him. “Don’t get hard then.”

And just like that, the games begin.

Jeongguk playing, doing his best to ignore you just enough to seem disinterested. You kissing his neck, biting his collarbones. ‘Accidentally’ rolling your hips. Of course it happens. Jeongguk really did put up a good fight. Barely gave in the whole time you’ve been bothering him. But you both know your pussy is too good to ignore. Warm and wet around his slowly swelling cock.

“Getting a little tight huh?” You whisper. You suck his earlobe into your mouth, tongue playing with the big ring as you subtly grind forward, your clit just barely rubbing against his lower belly area.

His jaw clenches and he swallows thickly. He raises his shoulders in faux nonchalance.

You smile, and hum. Your hand travels to his nipple, grazing over the small bud through his thin shirt. His mouth drops open, and his eyebrows furrow. Visibly, that’s the only reaction you get. No moan, or praise. Inside of you, however, you can feel him finally grow to his full length. Your cunt is stretched around his fat cock and when you drop your eyes to your tummy there's a small bulge protruding where his cock is, buried so deep inside of you. You poke it, before rubbing your palm over it. So full.

“You fill me up so good, Koo,” You whine high pitched and breathy.

Finally now that you have him exactly right where you want him, you get comfy and then cease all movement. Truly just cockwarming him. Holding him inside your tight little pussy, while he fakes ignorance about how badly he wants to fuck up into you. You can tell he is struggling to maintain his facade by the light mist of sweat by his hairline. By the way all his answers to his friends are curt and short. You can tell how bad he wants you because his legs spread wider on their own accord, causing you to sink even farther down onto his big cock. You gasp as the tip nudges something deep inside of you.

You're wrapped around his body, arms looped around his shoulders. You have your face pressed into his neck again, and you’re breathing in his scent when you inhale, pressing soft kitten kisses when you exhale. You won’t beg. You’re desperate, just like always, and you want him so fucking bad, but you won’t beg. Not this time.

He lasts barely a minute longer. Hand coming up to cover his mic again. “Move,” His voice is strained, lust dripping down his chin. He’s flushed from arousal, and hot to the touch.

You shake your head where it's hiding in his neck. “Not while you’re playing. I want you to pay attention to me only.” You’re whiny and difficult, you know. But so does he. He knew how fussy and unbearable you were when he first started seeing you, you never bothering to hide it. You commend him for sticking around for as long as he has. You love him for it too.

You hear him groan in annoyance before he exits the game with nothing more than a short, “I gotta go.” effectively cutting off his friends yells of complaint. It was a ranked match after all. You smile smugly into his neck.

He grips the hair at the back of your head, yanking to make you look at him. You’re still smiling that obnoxious self-satisfied grin, even through the pain blossoming on your scalp.

“You think you’re so clever,” His eyes are roaming all over your face, a small smirk on his lips. He drags your mouth to his, kissing you deeply, more tongue and teeth than anything. He bites hard on your bottom lip, pulling till it snaps back. “Move.” He demands against your mouth. His breath is a little shaky, giving away just how turned on he really is.

And you’re such a good listener. You’re bad and difficult, but you’re also so so good for him. Yearning for his approval, always. Lifting your hips just keeping the swollen tip in before dropping back down onto his cock. Your skin smacks against his, while you whimper pathetically. “You’re so deep inside me,” You whisper, bouncing again. Jeongguk’s head falls back and he moans deep and loud.

“Fuck, love your pussy so much.” He says, eyes closed, just basking in the feel of your slippery cunt sliding up and down his cock.

You set your pace, and you feel his big hands slip under your skirt to grip at your ass, pulling your cheeks apart, digging in hard. He’s lifting you up and bringing you back down, setting the pace that he wants. Not caring much at all about how it feels for you. A little doll for him to use, and you let him because you’re so good for him. He can use you however he wants, and the pace he wants is a hard one to keep up. Not only is it fast, but it’s hard. Gasps and whines fall from your mouth.

He gives you a little break, taking a moment to play with your tits, bouncing all over due to the force of you riding him. His lip is drawn between his teeth as he watches you bounce, his hands coming up to cup your underboob, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples. You throw your head back at the sensation, a gasp filling the room.

“God you’re such a pain in my ass, but you’re such a pretty girl, my pretty, pretty girl,” He moans as he takes you in, your hair a wild mess, his cock poking your belly every time you fall back onto it, sweat dripping down the valley of your tits. His hands grip your tiny waist, pinkies almost reaching in the back. It really is a wonder how you can take his giant cock like you do. So tiny and so perfect. Made just for him. His lips latch onto a nipple, and your body curls in, cradling him to your chest, soft pants falling from your mouth as you let him make you feel good. Your palms land on his cheeks, and you guide his head away from your boobs so you can look him in his eyes.

“Will you help me?” You ask, breathless. You’re still moving, but your hips have slowed.

He hums. “Why?”

“‘M tired…” You say quietly. “Please?”

“No.” He says, shaking his head.

Your face falls and you feel like you might cry. “Why?” You whine.

“Because I said so. You wanted this so bad you had to interrupt me twice to get it. So do it yourself.” He smacks your ass lightly, urging you to hurry up.

Your palms on his face squeeze, trying to convey how badly you just want him to fuck you like you deserve; punish you for being so bad when you should have just been good for him. You never learn. You squeeze until you’re sure it stings a little. “Please.”

“I said, no,” He spits, a glob of it landing on your face. And you gasp in shock before your pussy contracts. Jeongguk grits his teeth, hands digging into your ass. “Fuck you just got so tight from me spitting on you, you’re so-“ He’s caught off guard, watching as you gather his spit on your cheek onto your finger before sucking on it and drinking it down. He groans and you feel him throb inside of you. “Fuck make me cum.”

You’re so tired and your thighs and knees are killing you, but you try to set a decent pace, one fast enough to make him cum, but moderate enough for you to maintain it. Your pussy squelches every time you bottom out on his pelvis, your slick making his lower abdomen shiny and sticky. His t-shirt is barely pulled up, just the bottom portion of his abs showing, but you see them flex and tense as he gets closer.

That fact that you both are still mostly clothed makes something hot burn inside you. Both too desperate to get naked, too turned on to even give it thought. Clothes must be on Jeongguk’s mind as well. He bunches the front of your skirt in his hand pulling it up so he can see where your bodies meet. Your panties are now dark pink, your arousal seeping through and getting all over the place, and your poor little pussy is so red and swollen from the force of you slamming down onto his cock.

“Awe, poor little angel.” He braces his hand on your belly, his thumb slipping in between your puffy pussy lips to rub at your clit, finally helping you get off. “Does it hurt, baby?”

You’re still bouncing as you nod and whimper. It doesn’t actually hurt that much, but you want to be coddled, needy and desperate for his affection. Always so needy and desperate when it comes to him.

He coos. “You’re doing so good for me, just a little longer, I’m almost there. You can do it right?”

You’re not sure when you started crying, but you are. Out of both pleasure and exhaustion. Or maybe you’re crying because he moved his hand away from your clit, but whatever the reason, a tiny little sob slips past your lips, and again you’re nodding frantically, assuring that yes, you can do it.

He settles back farther into the chair, hands coming up to just fondle and hold your bouncing tits. Not helping you at all, making you work so hard to prove yourself to him. His mouth is parting and his eyes are hazy as he watches you make him feel good. “That’s it baby, make me cum… fuck yeah, make me cum-“ His eyes squeeze shut and his back arches off of the chair. The hands on your boobs tighten.

“Please Kookie, please cum inside me, fill me up.” You beg, using the last of your energy to keep up the fast pace. “Show me how good I am, how good I make you feel. Please.” You hiccup, as you cry for him.

He’s nodding along with your words, breathy moans coming out with every breath he takes. His face is pulled in pleasure, and he’s looking at you when his eyes start to flutter and his brows scrunch. He whispers, soft and sexy, “You’re gonna make me cum baby. Just like that… I’m so close-” His body tenses, and his hold on your tits hurts. “Fuck, I’m cumming- fuck, baby,“ His mouth falls open, whines tumble from his lips and he cums. His big cock throbs as he spills inside of you. You can feel every pulse of it, can feel every spurt of cum fill you to the brim.

You reach down and rub at your clit frantically, left to find your own orgasm. Fucking him got you close so you don’t need much, you’ve been on edge all night, really. Underneath you, Jeongguk is panting, trying to catch his breath, body twitching, overstimulated from you grinding on his cock. He’s looking at you in awe as he lazily plays with your tits, still not helping one bit, aside from the occasional brush of his fingers on your nipples. He listens as desperate whimpers fall from your lips, working so hard to cum. But still, it takes not even a few minutes before you’re there, shaking and trembling from your orgasm, pussy contracting and gripping tight on Jeongguk’s sensitive and softening cock, still nestled inside of you. He winces from the hold your pussy has on him, but just grits his teeth and bares it, still watching you with an awestruck look on his face. As you finish, so tight around him, you can feel your cunt push some of his cum out. Jeongguk can feel it drip down his balls to the chair. Messy.

You’re trembling from the force of your climax, and soft teeny hiccuping sobs still escape your lips as you wrap yourself around his body, face buried into his neck to try and quiet your cries. His soft cock is still inside of you, keeping most of his cum from leaking out. He knows you like it when he stays inside, knows it makes you feel closer to him in some way.

Jeongguk is running gentle fingers up and down your back, cooing soft praises to soothe you. “You were so good, such a good girl for me.” He kisses your head. “You don’t have to cry, chicky.”

You sniff a few times, “I’m sorry for being bad,” you whimper.

He smiles, laughs lightly. “Don’t be sorry, you’re okay.” He wipes under your eyes, trying to clean up some of the mascara running down your cheeks. He lets you calm down for a little while longer before he hums. “Want me to help you with your nails?”

You quiet yourself. Sniff. “The kuromi ones?”

“Mhmm.”

You nod, before adding, “Yes, but you have to make sure you actually listen to me and do them right this time, okay?”

He rolls his eyes playfully. You’re nothing if not insufferable and bossy and desperate and so so good for him.

—————————

isn’t oc so cute 😔 anyway! i hope you liked it! sorry the ending low key sucks... i never know how to end smut scenes like... just kiss or something? as always, comments, notes, and feedback are so so loved and appreciated, as are asks and messages! i want to be friends !! thank you for reading ily :*