#he is ready to fight back; all he needs is a reason

[lilacxquartz]

under his authority;

officer kenjaku x f!reader

plot: finally ridding yourself of your problematic ex, he comes back in the worst possible form — themes: yandere kenjaku, (eventually) willing reader, stalking, dubcon, manipulation, he/him pronouns for kenjaku, mundane au — w.c: 3.5k

a/n: considered making this a shorter one shot, but an idea wouldn’t leave my head — warnings: extremely dubious consent, but reader is willing by the end — masterlist • ao3

Every night before you headed off to sleep, you would take the extra effort to barricade yourself in your apartment, with all sorts of intricate preparations in place… just to keep him away. You’d lock the windows, put up a bar against the front door, tuck a chair underneath the door handle of your bedroom, and sleep with a knife within reach—just in case.

Deep down, however, you knew that it was all pointless in the long run. You could never truly get rid of him, not even if you traveled to the very ends of the earth (or left it entirely). Your ex was simply not the type to let go and even though nothing had yet happened in your year alone without him, you knew that from the moment that you’d let your guard down, that he’d strike.

See, you knew him perfectly well and the sly way that he approached every little intricacy in life. He dated you for a couple of years, bending and twisting your life into all sorts of directions like a puppet on a string, swaying and meddling with the cross, having you thinking that you were the one in the wrong the entire time when it was his manipulation having you feel that way all along.

At some point, you woke up to it all however, and simply just left—choosing to start somewhere else entirely, ready to put up a fight if need be—but to your surprise, he never followed you. This is why perhaps you knew that you were in more danger than you could comprehend because if you knew one thing about him, it was that he had a penchant for holding onto grudges (and never letting anything, or anyone, go).

Such a suspicion was sorely implied however, when out from the corner of your eye on every other occasion, you would spot a glimpse of him. For a while, you thought that they had finally gotten to you; that they had driven you to complete and utter insanity, if you must have been seeing them in places that didn’t make sense. You sought help for that one however you could; through countless reports made through a system that didn’t take you seriously for whatever reason and then, later, through the means of therapy, which did help for a while. Just as you thought that he was out of your life, however, he started showing up again and in full force, too.

Your reports, just like before, meant nothing at all. All of those reports of stalking and someone lingering around your home, of your windows being scratched on and at your doors rattling during the odd hours of the night, only to be dismissed with the ask of ‘have they hurt you yet?’ or the claim that the evidence was still inefficient, so please only make such a report again if you have something to prove.

Such a ridiculous system, but that’s why you went to such great lengths to take things into your own hands. You had no choice, so what else were you otherwise supposed to do?

You were certain that all of those strange happenings were him, after all.

You weren’t going crazy.

It wasn’t like moving on was helping, anyway. His presence was constant and overwhelming, following you around like your own shadow. You were perhaps being driven crazy indeed, but it wasn’t your own doing as everyone else had otherwise claimed. You knew that deep down, these weren’t desperate illusions cast from a worn-down mind, but rather that they were strikingly real and he was surely toying with you, unable to let you go after a hasty, unspoken breakup, hell-bent on punishing you for daring to have a spine.

And just like every other time, everything was all locked up and ready to go; you were as safe as you could get. You did your usual clean sweep of everything and found nothing that could hint at danger, and yet, just as you had settled into bed… you heard something from the inside.

Tearing upright from your bed, you grabbed your phone in a hurry, dialing the police and urging that this time, this wasn’t a drill, that there was someone actively in your home so to please, please, send someone over and just because the claim was so desperate and dire, they did indeed send someone, reassuring you that it would be soon and to please, stop fretting so much. Such a soothing gesture threw you off guard a little, the pattern of the sentence piquing your interest as something once familiar, but your sleepy mind didn’t make the full connection just yet.

You opened up the door as soon as they knocked too, not thinking all that hard about just how on earth they knew which door in the block called for such a thing to begin with. You were exhausted, after all, worn down from a full year of constantly doubting your own mind, of course, your judgment was hazy. All it took was a bit of correctly applied confidence and a smooth, reassuring voice to render you compliant, to slip downstairs along with them under the claim that you would be going to the station to take a statement before you realised the chilling truth that slipped right past your nose.

That voice.

Those mannerisms.

It was him—you were with him.

You tugged at the car door, desperate to suddenly break free and yet he had you securely confined right in the back of his vehicle, driving you off into some unknown location without a single second to spare.

“You… how did you—” you spat out, your voice faltering in disbelief.

“You know, you should really practice better judgment when you’re tired, hm?” He spoke, his voice sickeningly condescending yet calm and sweet. “And now you’re in trouble. Oh dear.”

In protesting refusal, you kicked at the seat with your heel in an attempt to get them to slow the vehicle at least and plot your escape and yet, he seemed to handle such violent complaint with calculated ease, as if knowing your attempts were futile, as if knowing that he had already won.

“Let me go, you asshole,” you spat, continuing to knock on the seat.

Yet, they continued to remain infuriatingly composed, adjusting the mirror in the dark, allowing you to catch a glimpse of their coal-black eyes in the passing streetlights that phased through the road. He clicked his tongue in amusement before swerving the car off to an emptier road, forcing your body to hurl to the side in a grounding warning. “Careful,” he said, his voice laced with a cold threat, “you’re in no position to make such demands, now are you?” he asked, the reminder of your compromised circumstances hanging in the air. “Believe it or not, my role is genuine in this exchange and I could approve a warrant for your arrest if you’re not careful, so you would be wise to calm down and listen to me. How does that sound?”

“Arrest?” you scoffed. “For what?”

“Well, it could be anything, really,” he mused, calmly driving once more, “but let’s try those narcotics that I planted in your home—quite bad ones too, they would get you into a whole wealth of trouble—especially given those paranoid reports you’ve been making. Am I really that bad that you consider me a daily nuisance? I haven’t done anything that wrong, surely.”

You blinked. “You have been stalking me.”

However, all that he could do was huff out a humourless laugh as he composed a response, “Interesting claims, but I think you’ll find that I have evidence of me being busy at work for the good remainder of the year, but…” he paused, considering a pint, “how sweet of you to think of me so often. Have I been on your mind that often? Maybe you’re seeing things you want to see.”

“I wouldn’t want to see you at any time at all, you damned stalker—” you repeated, only for him to interrupt you.

“—stalker?” he asked in a completely deadpan tone, though there was a thin jab of mockery laced within it. He parked the vehicle off to the side of a lesser traveled road where the lights couldn’t quite reach before sitting with you in a stagnant silence for a while. When he finally broke the quiet, he spoke up again in a hushed tone, as if careful to not be heard (even though it was just the two of you in the car), “your claims aren’t entirely baseless, I have been… keeping tabs, but I have been careful,” he admitted, “I have been eliminating all traces of evidence from the moment that anything surfaced, ridding myself of anything compromising. You can try and rattle me out to the authorities if you wish, I won’t stop you, but you won’t get very far.”

“Was the break-up that significant that you can’t leave me alone?” you redirected.

Another silence brewed between the two of you, but then he quickly composed himself. “How silly of you to make such outrageous claims as if we were an item to begin with, but, I suppose that you could say that our time together was significant enough for me to be… conflicted about our parting, for a lack of better words.”

“That’s a long and pointless answer to mean ‘yes’, but alright, you do you, Kenjaku,” you mumbled, crossing your arms as you sank back into the seat.

“And what would admitting such a thing do?” he asked, drumming his fingers along the hard leather of the wheel. “We were together for a moment and just as things were getting interesting, you walked out on me,” he added, not quite losing his track of words but still pausing for a moment to school their demeanour back into something better controlled. “...Let’s say that we did leave on a bad note, surely you can understand my confusion and… interest in picking up where things had left off?”

“I understand the need for wanting answers,” you admitted, “but it doesn’t justify stalking, surely.”

“It justifies my need for closure,” Kenjaku corrected, “and now that I have you back in my hands, I think you’re overdue for some long-awaited discipline, don’t you think? Luckily for you, I’m surprisingly fair with how I deliver it, so I won’t hurt you, but I do have something in mind for the way you humiliated me.”

“Humiliated?” you scoffed yet again, although given his lack of immediate reply, you had an uneasy wave of dread pass you by with the hanging implication of what was yet to come. Something felt off, but they weren’t being clear with their delivery.

Before you knew it, he suddenly got out of the car and slammed the door shut, leaving you alone in the back of the police car for a beat, and then, without warning, tore open the back door, yanking you right outside. You landed on your bottom initially, but then he leaned you forward, pressing your chest against the dirt and cuffing your wrists right behind your back.

Pulling you up after, he slammed you into his car, caging you in with his looming overhead frame, making you feel suddenly quite small and trapped. He leaned in with his breath hot against your neck, allowing his pressing arousal to push into the small of your back while holding you in place.

“Humiliation is a two-way street, you know,” he whispered as he pulled down your jeans to your knees with your underwear following suit, “and I don’t think I can forgive such abandonment, at least not so soon.”

You remained frozen in place, realising exactly what he was planning to do, letting him talk as words refused to leave your own lips, “I always did like the lack of fight you put up during our time together,” he purred, “I bet it’s because you secretly like submitting to me like this, huh?”

His words were intentionally full of spite and mockery, but you were still confused and barely recovered from the extreme relationship they had you trapped in prior; it was an overwhelming time that left you with a piled-up emotional burden and nothing else beyond that point… but their touch admittedly, always succeeded in making you feel good in a way that nothing else or nobody else could compare. So skilled was the feel of his fingers over your skin—the only time he would ever listen to you.

“And what happened to your snark?” Kenjaku hummed, unzipping his slacks, dropping the pair to gather at his thighs, “I thought you had a lot to say just now? Did that all disappear too? Do you want me to make you feel good again? I bet none of those late-night hookups you’ve been having have been satisfying you the same way I ever could.”

It was humiliating alright, he knew exactly what you wanted and how you wanted. You loved it when he bit at your neck and when he pulled your hair just enough to make you feel good, but without long-lasting pain. You loved the way his hands would smack and smooth over your tender skin, bruising galaxies from his feverish touch. How his teeth would graze along the sensitive spots, making your life feel like putty in his hands; so malleable and yet so rigid, and yet, you knew fully well that he was bad for you.

He didn’t give you much time beyond that point to seek out confirmation, readily lining up the tip of their hardened cock to press into your soaked entrance, finding it almost peculiar at just how desperately soaked you already seemed to be. With a gentle push inside, he buried his shaft within your slick walls, easing into you slowly, taking his good, sweet time to get used to the feel of you again. Almost achingly slow, he pushed himself into your hilt and then back out, feeling almost insultingly delicate.

Kenjaku’s lips then lined up with your neck, peppering lazy kisses against your throat, but not surrendering to the heat of the moment like you almost desperately, guiltily craved. Such burning need that was evidenced by the full year of not being able to let you go and yet, now that he had you—he held himself off.

Albeit involuntarily, you drawled off a low whirring whine, arching your back into his form, letting him deepen his shaft into your core, yet never once accelerating as you hoped. Kenjaku remained infuriatingly composed and controlled, never once losing his cool, gently rolling his hips out and then back in, letting the need build up in you, yet never satisfying it.

“Such a needy thing,” he murmured, “what’s the magic word?”

“P-pl—” you were about to say, stopping yourself right as you were about to give in.

Kenjaku sucked at his teeth. “We’ll get there. You could never make me soft.”

He continued to roll his hips back and forth against you, nice and slow, pressing your body straight up against the cold, uncomfortably hard surface of the car with his uniform uncomfortably digging into your back. The coarse material roughly chafed through the thin fabric of the top you wore, rubbing painfully against you as all the wrong sensations were tackled instead.

It was painful, almost, and yet you felt your composure letting slip earlier than you would have liked, wanting nothing more than to give into the moment and for once, forget about him and what he put you through prior and just… feel good.

“P-please,” you gasped and then bit your lips, curling them into your mouth to stifle the remainder of the confession—humiliating, indeed.

He stilled for a second and you swore that you could feel his eyes bore into you with an almost feral resolve. For a while, he didn’t say a single thing and then, without warning, you cried out a choked-out whimper without registering exactly what had happened.

Suddenly, a deep, searing pain flooded your senses, making your eyes well with tears and spill in a matter of seconds. The realisation hit just a moment later, recognising the sensation as pain as he thrust repeatedly into your teased cunt at full force; his cock hitting right where it hurt and then without stopping, doing it again and again. Your reactions were poorly timed as you moaned out of sync with his feverish movements, pistoning himself into you with the driving force of someone crazed with reckless abandon. With such sawing aggression that emphasised just how needy he truly was, no matter the claims that otherwise left his lips, pinning the blame on you.

His hands then snaked around your chest but didn’t settle, reaching to wrap around your neck instead. His palms squeezed against your sensitive skin, choking out whatever pretty little noises you had left behind.

Your body recoiled slightly in pained protest as he continued to impale you; his hot breath rolling steamy pants of air that prickled against your clammy skin, pushing you closer towards the edge. His breathing became sloppier too, as he fucked himself as rough as he could into your sopping heat, quite literally spearing his length into you, until he couldn’t anymore. With one stuttering, rough, and final thrust, he melted into you entirely, crashing his body against yours as he filled you up with his own pent-up need. For a moment after, his hips gently bucked, albeit seemingly involuntarily as he sought to ride out the aftermath of his near-violent orgasm, only parting when he could quickly recompose himself and regain control over both of the situation—as well as you.

And after a while of such recovery—after helping you find your balance and dress you back up with almost attentive care—a darker thought slipped into his mind. Helping you sit back inside of the car, into the front this time, he let you quietly recover as he drove off somewhere else this time. Not to your home, nor to his, but… somewhere else entirely, because, if he was being real about you, he already knew that you wouldn’t give up on trying to get him into trouble—wouldn’t you? You silly thing. Oh no, he had to do something about that, and luckily for you, he had no such intention to kill you off, because you were the only thing in his life that he wanted to keep around for good and he had a good idea that you wanted this too, even if you were being so stubborn lately.

“Wait,” you piped up at long last, “where are we going?”

Kenjaku snorted out a half-laugh, finding your late realisation to be amusing before clearing his throat and answering you, “I’m not letting you go this time, so we’re taking a little detour—I’m going to keep you holed up with me forever,” he revealed, “maybe in chains at first as I figure out something more… permanent, but it’s all for a good cause, you know?”

You huffed, only to be interrupted, “A good cau—”

“—yes,” he replied in a matter-of-fact tone, “a good cause. I want to keep you forever, but I can’t have you running off on me. At least not again.”

You found yourself reacting in a way that surprised you, trying to sink into the seat again and kicking at whatever you could, but not as a means of escape, but rather out of frustration at your own mind. You could only respond in an uncertain murmur, still exhausted from the rough encounter, “You’re impossible, just… let me go,” you requested instead, although not sounding convincing to either him or yourself, knowing that it would probably be easier to just surrender instead.

“Oh you”, he endearingly cooed, smoothing his hand over your thigh, “I can’t do that. Not to you. But just know this, if you try to run away from me again, I’ll figure something out, maybe plant something compromising on you,” he replied, pausing for a moment to plot something out on the spot, “maybe have you arrested and locked up, because that way I can be sure to keep you in one place forever.”

You tilted your head off to the side, catching a glimpse of his thinly concealed mania burning in the depths of his eyes. “You wouldn’t go through that much, would you? You’re not that insane…”

Kenjaku however just shrugged, finding the calm conversation to be amusing, knowing that by even humouring him to this extent, you had already given up. “Just keep it in mind, will you? If it ever did come down to that, then guess who’s going to be the one to get you out to begin with?”

He let the implication hang in the air for a moment longer, before pushing you back further into the seat and finally letting go. “Anyway, rest up, will you? You have a lot of apologising left to do when we’re there and I fully accept you to be awake and alert for everything I have in store for you.”

You gulped, but you did as you were told, finally broken down enough to listen to him at long, long last.

[blauequuleus]

The brain worms have hit with this one.

So it’s post Danny becomes Phantom and it’s been a few years and he’s now 17-18 years old and the Ghost King.

When he gets a pulled by a summons.

Now normally he’s powerful enough now he can just brush them off and go back to what he was doing. But this was one of the cases he could sense there were sacrifices to him and welp time to go fuck up some probably cultist cause ain’t no way he gonna let that fly (under it all he senses a familiar presence but brushes it off as probably maybe having a repeat cultist in the group trying to summon him again)

So Danny comes in, in all his kingly glory ready to beat up some friutloops for their nonsense.

And he does very effortlessly after also putting the fear of him in all of them

That’s when his attention turns to the sacrifices/hostages. To which he sees….Batman??? and a few other hero’s/vigilantes he’s kinda heard of.

But then his eyes land on the person close to his age that was tied down in the circle and something seems awfully familiar about him that he just can’t put his finger on right up until the tied up teen below him chokes out a surprised

“….Danyal?”

To which the realization hits Danny full force of *‘Oh fuck that’s Damie!!!’*

Damian meanwhile knows without a doubt that, that’s Danyal. Yeah he’s older and his coloring is completely different but years of assassin training makes so changes in coloring and general aging doesn’t fool him in recognizing people

So after a shocked staring contest between the two for a few moments, Danny gets snapped out of it when the other Bats start making noise finally getting out of their restraints. Damian is still shell shocked just staring at him

Danny in full panic mode now cause it’s finally hitting him that, that’s BATMAN and crew, he takes one last look at Damian and without a word just disappears.

So now Damian is DEVASTATED and is trying to get out of his ropes shouting after Danyal because that was just confirmation that 1) yes Danyal is dead but 2) some form of him still exists out there.

The Bats are trying to figure out what has gotten into Damian and what does he know about the being the cult summoned

Danny back home or in the Ghost Zone is flipping out cause as far as he’s aware Damian is still loyal to the League and yeah he may be a ghost but now they have info on how to possibly now summon him (which Danny is mentally beating himself up that he didn’t destroy all that before dipping). He just decides he’s absolutely not gonna answer any summons from here on out just to be safe

Damian meanwhile starts on a rampage and is taking all the evidence from the cult to every magic user he knows to figure out how to get Danyal back or at least contact him.

To which a real kicker of a misunderstanding happens.

Now the magic users all know that the summons was for the Ghost King. And for whatever reason they have not been updated that Pariah Dark is no longer the Ghost King. So when they show Damian and the Bats images of the Ghost King and it looks nothing like Danny they all immediately just to the worst but most logical conclusion.

Cause if Pariah Dark didn’t come/couldn’t come through in the summons then obviously it’s gonna fall on the next one in charge….aka Danny. Who they all now believe was killed as a ritual bride to the Ghost King when he went missing all those years ago. Which the ages for that just give them all, all kinds of disgust and. fury cause Danyal would have been and still is technically a child since he’s about the same age as Damian

Now though Damian is on a Warpath 2.0 and is gearing up to fight the Ghost King or whoever he needs to, to save Danyal from that creep. Everyone trying to stop him or talk him out of it until they find another solution to which Damian is having none of it cause Danyal has suffered long enough and he won’t wait a second longer to save him.

Damian try’s the summons again but with Danny not answering Damian further jumps to the conclusion that Danny is now being punished or locked up to the point he can’t come through the summons. Damian with the help of magic users even changes it to address Danny directly (which inadvertently freaks Danny out even more thinking the League is trying to get him back somehow)

This all comes to a head eventually with two conclusions I can’t choose between

If we go down the bad Fenton parents route.

Danny is captured and in the middle of being dissected when he feels the tug of the summons and answers it, the League or not it’s better than where he is currently. Only to land right in Damian’s arms heavily bleeding managing a weak “Hey Damie” before passing out and turning back to human. (Which just sets Damian off even more on wanting to find out who did all this to Danyal and make them pay for it)

Or just with GIW

Damian wanting other weapons other than what the magic users are willing to give him (which is next to nothing to try and stop him Contantine is the only one that gives him a little something that big Bats won’t notice too much)

So he follows some leads on some government organization that claim to have made weapons to fight ghosts and with as any lead as ever he follows it right to the GIW base where he finds Danyal trapped/strapped down being tortured by these scientists. He doesn’t let any in his path live in his escape with Danny

From there on it’s just Danny healing and rebefriending Damian after he finds out he also left the League.

And Damian working through the slight heartbreak of Danny not trusting him enough and faking his own death or at least death at the time. But also understanding a bit because he remembers how loyal he used to be at that time and he himself isn’t even sure if he’d have ratted out Danny or not.

Also Danny explaining to everyone much to their relief that “No I’m not the result of some creepy sacrificial child bride thing, I kicked his ass when I was 14 and now I’m King” (which also only makes Damian fall more in love with Danny)

And just it turns into mutual crushing with everyone around them either super entertained by it or bemoaning having to watch the two dance around each other for way longer than they should have to suffer through watching

Danyal and Damian grew up in the League together, but they’re not related; some other member just happened to also have a kid at a similar time to Talia.

Damian outranks the other boy by a significant margin, but they still manage to interact sometimes. It’s not like there’s many other kids to socialize with.

And, well, Damian starts to fall. He may still be young, but he can feel how deep his emotions run. As the heir to the Demon’s Head, he has access to treasures beyond reckoning, but the only treasure that he truly desires is Danyal at his side.

Then one day, Danyal never returns from a mission.

Damian slaughters every last person connected to the target. It doesn’t change a thing. Danyal is still gone. He’ll never forgive them for that. Nor the League, for that matter. Regardless of if it was their fault, they sent his love on the mission that took him away from him.

But for now, he’ll continue to make use of their resources. No stone will be left unturned until he finds the truth of what happened to his love. Even if he has to make use of the Pits, they will be reunited.

Meanwhile, many miles away, Danyal lets out a sigh of relief. It seems his plan worked; there’s no sign of anyone having come after him.

He spares only a brief thought to the boy he left behind. A part of him regrets leaving the other boy, but only a small part. The Demon’s Heir seemed happy with his life in the League. He doubts the other boy will care about the loss of a nobody like him, even if they had interacted occasionally.

Besides, he has far more immediate concerns at the moment, like staying off the League’s radar and finding where to go next. He should probably leave the country at minimum, but then what? He doesn’t want to have to keep running forever just to avoid going back. He wants to be free.

[existential-crisis-of-the-mind]

Small Talk (Jason Todd x Reader, Pt 2 of 3)

(Pt 1)

Premise: Jason worries that you're just putting up with him out of a misguided sense of pity.

Jason seems about ready to dip into fight or flight mode. Though you’d be surprised if flight mode even exists in his dictionary, perhaps it only applies to the dangers of expressing emotions rather than actual physical threats.

“Okay…” you begin slowly, mulling over your words so as to not spook him off, “Well to start off. No, I don’t pity you”.

He only frowns at that, crossing his arms around his torso tighter in response. Alright, can’t say you were all too surprised by that. Trust doesn’t seem to come naturally to the guy.

You take a breath before looking him in the eye, “Jason, I like you. I like spending time with you. I like what we have… is that so hard to believe?”

Jason averts his gaze in response, seemingly unable to face you. “I-I don’t know” he grumbles, a frustrated exhale escaping his lips.

“I don’t know what you see in me. I guess I'd rather tear down whatever halo effect you’ve got going on right now, rather than waiting for you to realise what you're getting yourself into, and walking out at a later point”. At least the former offers him some false sense of control, he gets to strip down the facade and push you away on his terms.

“So you think I’m going to just up and leave the day I see the ‘real’ you?” you have to bite back a scoff at his reasoning, but insecurities can take any form, and the fear of abandonment always seems to be the front runner in his case.

You shake your head as you counter him, “Jason respectfully, there was no point at which I thought you were putting up a prince charming act, you’ve never really made much effort to hide your broodiness”.

In fact, you've always appreciated how he never put up a front, his frank personality being one of the first traits that drew you in.

He bristles at your comment, but you can see some of the tension leaving his body as he uncrosses his arms.

“Hey! I can turn up the charm when I want to”.

You raise an eyebrow in response, that’s a shoddy defense at best.

You decide against bringing up the time he set the fire alarm off attempting to cook spaghetti for the two of you, or that other time he picked up flowers for you only to get into a scuffle on the way home, leaving you with five broken stems (but 3 petals stubbornly clung on, so they still counted as flowers according to him). No, now’s not the time to bruise his ego.

You sigh, deciding to try a more direct approach instead.

“What’s this really about Jason? Have I said or done something to make you feel this way?”

The genuine question coupled with the gentle tone of your voice further disarms him. He huffs a breath as he looks away.

“No…I just- I don’t know why you put up with me at times”.

You could feel the weight of his words even though they were spoken under his breath. Put up with what exactly? His sudden disappearances? His injuries? The bouts of sour moods? He doesn’t even know. But he can only imagine the combination to be unpleasant.

You reach for his hand, which is currently bunched up into a fist by his side before continuing “Jason… I love what we have. I mean, I know you’ve got your bad days, but you’ve never taken them out on me...”

You take a deep breath feeling somewhat hesitant about your next words, but knowing they need to be said.

“Look, I don’t know much about your past, and frankly I don’t need to, I enjoy what we have right now… But it seems like you’ve been let down plenty of times before, and those fears are being projected onto us".

He stiffens, confronted with the truth he barely lets himself think about. Instead of facing it head on, he chooses to deflect.

“That doesn’t seem like enough of a reason for you to stick around”

He may be trying to sidetrack the conversation, but you’re done beating around the bush. You need him to know he’s enough, more than enough. That you’re happy with him and not just putting up with him for the sake of it.

“Does it bother you? That I like you just the way you are?” 

He hunches over at your words, choosing to face the muted television screen instead of you.

“Not bother… I guess it’s a bit hard to believe. I mean I know I’m quite the looker and have a wicked sense of humour” he says dryly, though you don’t miss his attempt at biting back a snicker, “But man do I come with a lot of baggage” he concludes with a self depreciating groan.

You shake your head as you scoot closer to him on the couch, “Will you give yourself some grace for once? It doesn't seem like you were dealt the best hand in life” you retort, feeling defensive on his behalf.

“You’re trying to make sense of it all, you’re trying to do what’s right. Shouldn't that count for something? Don’t discount your efforts” 

He shakes his head as he turns to face you, conflict colouring his features.

“But isn’t it exhausting to keep up with (Name)? I can’t exactly offer stability- Hell, I can’t even say trouble finds me, I actively go seek it... I mean, I don’t even know what my future’s gonna look like, let alone what our future will look like”. 

Why stay when you can go seek out something more secure, more certain?

That question remained unsaid. Maybe he was being a coward, but part of him didn’t want to probe for answers he was not ready to hear.

“Jason, I’m not going give up what we have now because of a pessimistic ‘what if’ future that may never come to be… You make me happy. You’re so good to me. I wish you could see that”.

Feelings of sadness and frustration settle within you at his incessant attempts to downplay himself. Downplay what he means to you.

You spend a moment wracking your brain, trying to conjure up the magic words that will get through to him. Considering which memories you can point to as evidence for your case, what traits of his you can highlight in your defence. But so many moments flit through your mind, warm memories playing over like a cinema reel, you don’t even know which to choose from. 

That itself is enough proof that’s there’s plenty of reason to stay right here, by his side.

Now it was just a matter of getting him to see the same.

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

Initially thought of writing this in 2 parts but 1am big brain energy has given me enough ideas for a pt 3.

[cinamun]

cin i need all your thoughts on the new kendrick album

Friend, do me a favor, send this same ask in like 2 days. I have to formulate an expert opinion and that takes days of listening

*adjusts glasses*

First and foremost, this is classic California sound right here! Wacced out murals is hard as fuck and that beat is SICKENING. It feels like into the mind of a madman but then morphs into a straight head banger then he addresses lil wayne, and REITERATES how he is the fucking GOAT of all this shit "fuck a double entendre I want y'all to feel this shit" in other words, it ain't that deep, just vibe with him.

Next squabble up got us all c-walkin in our bedrooms and ready to fight a bitch. Every good album needs a track like this. Luther comes in with the BOMB ASS SAMPLE (yes, this shit was perfectly done) of a BOMB ASS CLASSIC ASS SONG and you just vibe out because the beat hits you in the chest and luther's voice just rocks you, plus he brings SZA back from wherever the fuck she was? WITH THE HARMONY!! This is such a beautiful song and my favorite so far.

Man at the garden? BITCH I DESERVE IT ALL and its the force in which he says it that makes it a mantra. Repeat that shit in the mirror to yourself in the morning. Everyday. Bro really said his intentions were pure so all the fame this year, all the grammy nods, the superbowl, the anthem (not like us), ALL OF IT he deserves! I fucking love that shit. He already told us to be humble, but you don't have to be humble about SHIT YOU DESERVE OKAY??? A better life for his momma, a close relationship with God... he breaks down why he doesn't have to be humble about his wins! This feels so good to listen to because he's fucking RIGHT.

Another c-walker in Tv Off, shit bangs, period. WE SURVIVE OUTSIDE ALL FROM THE MUSIC! He starts playing with his voice again and I love that. Can't stand a monotone ass rapper.

Peakaboo and gnx have a beat that I can't WAIT to play in my truck. Imma just go to the store for no fucking reason tomorrow so I can hear how it really sounds.

So yeah, those are my initial thoughts after listening most of the afternoon and evening but imma let it marinate a few more days. Definitely feels like a continuation of what we heard this Spring - serious scary beats with sick lyrics with a few dance tracks sprinkled in. One thing is for sure, the album just feels like Compton.

[otaku0411]

A Future Rewritten

Summary: After years of dreaming of parenthood, Y/n and Nanami face the devastating loss of their first pregnancy. The grief threatens to consume their relationship as Y/n struggles with feelings of guilt and inadequacy while Nanami fights to hold their bond together.

TW: Miscarriages, infertility, mention of alcoholism, and depression episodes

A/n: This is my first angst-like fanfic so please don’t be too harsh and my first JJk fanfic🥲

——————————————————————-

Both of y’all went to the doctor to see if there wer anything wrong that could affect yall fertility. The results came out great for Nanami. However for you, it said that you might be struggling with fertility issues. Doctor explained that it’s not impossible, but it will take a while longer for you to conceive. Feeling upset at the news, you try different herbs and positions that could increase your chance but nothing seems to work.

It became more difficult when friends and family would have get together and their children would be around playing in blissful innocence that they still have. There was one time where Gojo brought his son, and for some odd reason he was following Nanami around all day and your husband eventually gave in a play with him and even carried him on his back. That moment has you feeling so much pride but sadness because you couldn’t give him a baby. (It’s all your fault)

One morning, you woke up and immediately went to the bathroom and puke your gut out. This was abnormal, especially since you didn’t eat much of anything for dinner. Nanami knock on the door.

“Sweetheart, is everything alright?” He asked with concern in voice.

You flush the toilet and wash your hand and brush your teeth. “Everything good! Just needed to go to bathroom.” You chuckles, trying to play it off.

He doesn’t buy it one bit, he knows when you’re lying. He sighed” Okay but if you’re not feeling well, please tell me.”

“I will!” Nanami back up from the door and walked away.

You hate lying to him but you don’t want him to worry right now. You soon get ready for work and leave the house. Throughout the day, all you could think about is the vomit, but then you get a notification on your phone that says your cycles is 5 days late. Okay this is a sign!

After work, you when to the drugstore and went home. Luckily Nanami was still at work so you took the opportunity to take three pregnancy tests. You waited for 5 minutes. Those five minutes were the longest time you felt. Anticipated and nervous for the results. The timer went off and you decided to look.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Nanami comes home with takeout from your favorite restaurant. He shouted out your name to announce he’s home. You slowly come out of the hallway with both of your hands behind your back.

“Hey love I brought yo-…….what’s behind your back?”He quickly noticed how you were standing. He look around you to see if he get a peep but you dogged his attempts.

You had a big grin on your face as you were too excited. You show him the pregnancy test with two big bold lines. Nanami looks and his eyes begin to widen as the realization hits him.

“You’re…..pregnant?” A smile and excitement creep on his face.

You eagerly nodded your head and before you could say anything, Nanami pick you up and hug you tightly.

“We’re gonna be parents!!!!” He chanted loudly. You laugh at his excitement. This was the best news he could get all year! He slowly put you down to look at you.

“I’m so happy to be a father and to have you as the mother of my children.” He caressed you gently and put his hand on your stomach.

“I can’t wait to meet you little guy.”

The next few months was full of restfulness and excitement for the arrival of the baby. Nanami has ordered many pregnancy books and preparation for the baby as you’ve been dealing with the occasional nausea and fatigue and sickness that comes with the first trimester of pregnancy. You two were at every appointment making sure that the pregnancy was going well and that the baby was progressing successfully.

On the 12th week, Yall had went to the appointment for an ultrasound to see the baby. Y’all were very excited to see the little one and to see how they were growing in your belly and any updates that you two need to know. The nurse happily lead you guys to the room, place you down on the bed by the ultrasound screen and put the cold gel on your stomach as she put the wand onto the stomach and begin moving around to see the baby. You and your husband hold each other hand excited to see the baby not knowing what was to come. The nurse who once looked at the screen once with a smiley, happy face turn into a very neutral expression on expression.

The nurse looked at you two and told you “I’ll be right back.” She left and you two were wondering what was going on y’all waited a few minutes and then the doctor came in and told you the heartbreaking news.

“I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Nanami but it appears that we could not have found a heartbeat we checked again and there are no sign of life.”

You two look at each other in shock at the new, not wanting to believe what the doctor is saying.

“What are you trying to say?” You didn’t comprehend what she’s saying, or rather what you don’t want to comprehend.

The doctor sighed as she basically realized she has to say the difficult part, “I’m saying you have miscarriage at 12 weeks.”

Hearing those words come out the doctor’s mouth of the room to be muffled and silence as the two you just looked at each other, not knowing how to express or what to say. The doctor explained that it was nothing that you have done and miscarriages commonly happen in the first trimester. All you could think inside your head was ‘what did I do? What’s wrong with me? How could I let this happen? Could I prevented this?!’ You asking these questions over and over again in your mind.

Nanami see that you space out and called you, “Honey? You okay?”

You snapped out and continue listening to the doctor.

The doctor continues explaining that it is possible to try again later down the line.

Y’all came to the hospital with a baby and now leaving without it. They induced your labor to get the baby and the placenta out. It was painful and caused discomfort for you and Nanami.

After the surgery, you was prescribed with medication to make sure everything clears out of your uterus and to make sure there are no complications after the miscarriage. you inform your job about a medical emergency and you need to have a week off from work.

Nanami drove you both home, the car drive was filled with silent. You put your purse on the table and just sat down on the couch looking down at the floor. You try to hold your stomach with a small bump that was once forming is no longer there. Nanami sat right beside you holding your hand, trying to come for you the best way he can. He’s processing the pain too but knows that it’s harder for you since you were carrying the baby.

“Do you wanna talk about this?” He ask you, he cares about you. He wants the best for you to make sure that everything is okay, but instead of just talking about it and spread your feelings, you shut down how can you be a wife? You can’t even give your partner a child

“What do you want to dinner?” You blurred out , not wanting to talk about the event that just happened back at the hospital no, we look so confused. Why are you not talking to him? You literally just had a miscarriage?! Nanami can see the way the pain as you look at the ground and knew that you didn’t wanna talk about it right then and there, so he just went along with it to make peace at the moment.

“I’ll take care of dinner. You don’t have to worry about cooking dinner.” He answer you with his soft tone, you nodded your head. “Okay, I’ll be in the bathroom.” You get up the couch and wash and left and went to the bathroom.

Once you close the door, all the tears that accumulated all day when the moment you got the news just start pouring out. You just sobbing as tears cover your face and cheeks. You’re a mess. You don’t know how to process this. When you thought you finally got a break and finally gonna be a mother. It was taken away from me just like that.

What was wrong with me? What? Why can’t I carry a baby in my stomach??

The week that you was off from work, you just laid in bed in silence. You did not eat sleep or eat or drink anything. The only time you got up really was to use the restroom. Sure you wash your face from time to time but other than that you did not do nothing, you barely even shower. The only reason you somehow survived is what because your husband cooked dinner and semi forced you to come down to eat dinner with him.

he tried to talk to you about the miscarriage, he wanted you to talk about it. He did not blame you for what happened. he blaming you for losing the baby. He mad at you cannot how can you be a good wife if you cannot give him a child what’s wrong with you?

Why it is so hard for me, but not for other women that’s all you could think about in your mind. Every second will consume of the miscarriage in the could’ve been and would’ve been and everything around it. You hated yourself for it, you failed as a woman, partner, and mother.

One night in bed , you were up looking at the ceiling just thinking about everything that happened. Kento saw that you wasn’t sleeping ”are you OK? You can’t sleep?” You look over to your right at him. “No, I’m not really tired right now.” He sighed, he knew why you’re up. He knows that you are too hard on yourself right now. “You know I’m not mad at you right?” You look away from him. You want to believe him you really do but all you can think of your mind is the opposite.

he’s gonna leave you for someone who can give him a child.

That’s all you can think about all that you worry about you turned your back at him “I’m going to Sleep. You have a good night.”

Nanami was shocked by your behavior. you never turn your back on him. But he wasn’t gonna give up on you. He pulled you close, with your back towards his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He whispered in your ear “I love you.” before he try to go to asleep.

The week you return from work, you put a mask on for your coworkers and carry on with your work and project that you had missed out like nothing happened. despite the effort, you were still thinking about the pregnancy at home, but at work all you can think about what project deadline, reports, and meetings.

You bury yourself in work, helping every project in the company and contribute to many groups around the department that you were in. Your supervisor ask if you want to stay a little later to finish the report and you happily answered yes. anything to not be at home and think about the miscarriage anything to not go home and be a disappointment to your husband at least at work you are something here. A somebody with purpose. Somebody who accomplish a lot of things here.

The next few weeks, all you did was work and overtime, work and overtime, work and overtime.

You’d come home exhausted from work and became close friends with your wine cellar. Indulging on a few glasses of wines and cocktails every other day after working overtime. That feeling of intoxication and praise at work helped block out the depress thoughts, even if it was for a couple hours.

After finishing a huge project at work, your team decided to go out and celebrating with drinks. At the bar, you were laughing and talking with the few coworkers you enjoyed spending time with. Y’all were having a good time and even offer Sasha, one of your colleagues and good friends, a drink. Normally she’d accept it but she shook her head.

“Not tonight. I’m not allowed to drink for the next few months.” She explained as her hands is placed on her belly. The whole team look at Sasha surprised but soon follow up with excitement. Many congrats her and ask about the baby. As those conversations were happening, you couldn’t help but think about your own pregnancy and how far along the baby would’ve been by now. You’d been 7-8 months along.

You congrat Sasha, paid for your tabs and quickly called it a night. But that didn’t stop the drinking. You went to the liquor store and got some Taylor Port and Patron. You made it home around 9:35 pm and immediately pour yourself a glass and chugged it. You pour yourself another glass when a voice behind you spoke.

“You’re drinking again?” He look you at very distressed. He seen the way you been acting the last few months and it’s getting worse.

“Yeah so what?” You replied as your mouth touch the glass with the alcohol entering your throat.

Nanami was tired. You come home late, smelling like liquor and being borderline drunk every other day was getting old and fast. He walked up to you and grabbed your glass.

“What the fuck?! Give it back!”

“No, I’m tired of seeing you like this (Y/n). Coming home late and drinking is not healthy and it’s not you!”

“So what?! It’s not like I’m hurting anyone.” You protest.

“You’re hurting me! And more importantly you’re hurting yourself! You can’t continue on like this. This is not the woman I married.”

Taking his word the wrong way you blurred out “Well go find another bitch who’d give you everything you want!”

Nanami look at you stunned by your words. Before he could say anything, you continued with slurring your words.

“Maybe you should end things with me, find another woman who will give you ALL the kids and babies you want instead of being with one who couldn’t even carry one in their first trimester.” As you yelled out, tears begin to form in your (e/c) eyes. You already imagine in your mind that he’d leave you, find someone else, marry her and have a family. A family with beautiful children. A family that doesn’t include you.

Silent was the only thing that was heard in the kitchen. Nanami spoke out softly, “Sweetheart…….,” as he walked closer towards you.

You just lost it. All the months of holding it in secret and emotional turmoil just came out as tears fall against your face. Nanami quickly held you tightly as you begin to cry out in his arms.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?!”

“Hey hey, it’s okay-“

You abruptly cut him off “No it’s not! For two fucking years we’ve been trying to get pregnant. Over and over again all because I have a hard time getting pregnant! And I one time I did I fucked up and lost our baby!”

He stood there holding you as you vented out everything you’ve been feeling. This was a long time coming.

“I’m sorry I failed you…..” Your voice cracked as you spoke. Nanami look at you disappointed. Not at you, but at himself and how he wishes he tried harder to get you to open up sooner.

“Y/n, you can’t blame yourself for this. I hate seeing you blaming yourself for something that isn’t your fault whatsoever.” You continue to sob as Nanami gently grab your chin to make you look at him.

“Look at me, you are strong, intelligent, and beautiful person inside and out. Our next pregnancy will be stronger and better. And you’ll be one hell of a mother.”

“But…..what if I never get pregnant again Kento. It took me years for just one. I know how much you desire to be a father……and I’m scared that we’ll separate because of—“

“Don’t.” He paused you. You look up at him confused and still upset.

“I don’t care if it takes two years, twenty years, or even if it never happens, Y/n. You are who I envision as the mother of my children, but more than that—you are my everything. If we can’t have children, I’ll still feel complete, because I have you. I see you in every vision of my future, holding my hand, laughing with me, growing old with me. Children or no children, you are my home and my forever. I’m not going anywhere, Y/n. Not now, not ever.”

You soon get overwhelmed with emotions from his speech. Sure he has said many heartfelt words before but this one is definitely up there. You buried yourself into his chest as you continue to cried out in sob with a soft “Kento….”

Y’all stay in position for a while, embracing each other after a long time since the miscarriage. Tonight has helped you two beginning to understand the importance of being vulnerable again. You two don’t know what to expect in the future ,but you guys know that regardless of it y’all have each other and that will be enough.

[derww]

DEVOTIONS WEEK DAY 4: ANIMALS/OBJECTS

Okay, the thing is: Zam goes to the Kings SMP, spends several weeks in a bloody meat grinder, fights back to back with Minute and Mapicc and Jepexx against the world and somewhere in the process realizes herself to be a girl.

It's not bad: she swaps her crown for an elegant tiara, and her pretty kitty princess blade hits exactly on target and holds in her hand like a glove, and the dress turns out to be much more comfortable than an almost formal suit.

She spends the rest of the season so at ease with herself – even after losing her magic blade, she does not return to her former self, but rushes around the server, ready to destroy anything, and, in the end, reunited with the blade, counts it as her happy ending.

And then it's time to return to the Lifesteal, and she lowkey expects that her dress, like in the Cinderella, will turn into rags, but she, Minute, Mapicc and Jepexx activate the teleport, and Minute holds her gloved hand, making sure of a safe landing, and they appear on a flying an island in the center of the spawn, and... Nothing changes. Even her pretty blade, despite everything, remains hanging on her belt.

For a moment, while everyone is still recovering and looking around, she just stares into the sky, and then, experimentally, lightly stabs Minute into the side. He curses and lets go of her hand, and a cat falls at their feet with a long meeeeeow. She looks at it, running around and scratching Minute's feet, with mild amusement.

Oh. Oooh. Okay!

In the end, it is kinda nice: everyone, as it happens usually on the Lifesteal, just roll with it and she changes her dress for the black one with purple accents, and cats help her push players into the void, and in return she makes them a corner in the skull base and feeds them with fish washed up by the waves. Pangi is being heavily liked by one of them for some reason. He names him Cheeseburger.

(For some reason, cats don't like Jumper. She wonders if it's because of their experience on Kings)

Cat ears make her much more sensitive and observant, allowing her to detect enemies and hide from them just as successfully, and also – to lie at night on an icy bedrock and listen to the measured whisper of the Abyss. Sometimes Mapicc joins her, but he doesn't quite hear it, and she describes it to him.

It simultaneously changes everything significantly and really does not. Her dress is elegant but shorter than she would like, and she doesn't wear heels, and her scar – her pride – is not going anywhere, and she still kills people and herself, but everything seems to be half a tone better than it was.

Mapicc grumbles about the need to retrain for her movements changed under the new center of gravity, and also about her too–long hair getting in the way, and she eventually ties it into a high ponytail and it instantly shuts him up. They fit her blade into their normal formations – backstabs do great damage, and cats push and interfere with enemies, and they are forcing opponents to always think about one more thing.

One day she makes a mistake and falls into the void and dies, and it's hard, but she accepts it because she knows that one day it was bound happen. The Abyss demands all kinds of sacrifices, she tells herself, and I must always be ready to give her everything, including myself. Bacon gifts her an elegant rapier crowned with stars, and she continues to live because it was not the blade that defined her.

But one day, in the dead of night, walking through the void, with bare feet on the great nothingness, listening to the eternal whisper of absolute knowledge and dancing under the new moon, the Abyss speaks to her. And it's not like She's never talked to her before, but this is the first time she's been alone.

My child, the Abyss whispers, overwhelming her with an invisible pressure, I have something that belongs to you by the right.

As if enchanted, she pulls her hand forward, and intently, and slowly, as if with effort, squeezes her fingers until she feels the icy metal of the handle, and nothingness separates the blade from the ink.

This is her blade, absolutely it is, but it is darker, almost completely black, and only rare gaps in the folds reveal the familiar deep blue.

She smiles.

"Thank you, lady," she says from the bottom of her heart, and the tension around her evaporates with a dry click.

[asharasasylum]

♡ drabble Naoya Zenin booklet - entry 1

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ warnings: non con. dub con. manipulation. blackmail. step-cest. smut. allusions to abuse/assualt. not proof read. 18+

Step brother! Naoya who is mean to everyone but especially cruel to you at times. He taunts you relentlessly but there is only so much he’s been able to get away with his father around. When that happens, his attention falls onto one of the poor maids and with a hand wrapped around their wrist, he yanks them to his room. 

You can’t lie, you're glad when he leaves for college, ecstatic not to have to share a house with him for the next few years. But the years roll by fast and one day he’s at the front door again, his father and your mother ready to greet him. 

He’s changed, you think. He’s always been obsessed with his appearance but maybe you’ve never noticed it before because he’s definitely in great shape. He practically towers over you when he comes to greet you, and you bite on your tongue stopping yourself from making a comment about how he’s clearly been working out, eyes falling over his thick muscles. You don't need to add to his ego.

But Naoya hasn’t really changed. He tugs on one of your plaits and laughs as you slap his hand away, already back to his usual antics. 

“Didn’t you miss me.” 

He’s back to his usual ways but for some reason he’s able to get away with more. He’s a bit rougher with you, play fighting with you, tugging on your hair to get your attention. Either your parents don’t seem to notice, or now that you’re older they think you should be able to handle yourself. But with each push you give Naoya, you get a shove back. 

It’s not till things take a turn that you really start trying to avoid him. His hands wandering in places they shouldn’t or him pressing up against you in the kitchen. Even with people around you can feel his predatory gaze latched onto you at all times. And you’re sure your fear is what turns him on even more, the game of it all, cat and mouse. 

Naoya always gets what he wants and while you’re great at avoiding him, he eventually corners you and gets you alone again. But when he pulls you into his bedroom, pressing your back flush against his chest, you tell him that you’ll scream. 

He doesn’t like that. With his hand wrapped around your throat he snarls, and squeezes. 

He gives you a proposition, you or the maids. He can see your face drop at that, your stomach dropping as guilt floods through your body. He hasn’t touched them since his arrival and while you aren’t sure what exactly happened behind his closed doors all those years ago, your mind could think of a thousand awful possibilities. 

It’s you. 

Even if you do change your mind, any form of protest is lost on Naoya’s lips. 

The kiss is hot and heavy, his lips firmly pressing against yours, not allowing you a second to breathe. He seems desperate for more though, using his free hand to venture underneath your t-shirt as you slowly turn to face him. 

You gasp into the kiss when Naoya cups your bare breast and he laughs at the reaction, using it to slip his tongue into your mouth. On one side you think of biting down on his bottom lip, drawing blood and making a run for it. But you can’t deny how easily you’re melting into his touch as the tips of his fingers graze over your nipple, switching to play with the other breast. 

You’re surprised about how easily you fall into his bed, no protest even forming in that head of yours as his fingers slip into your soaked panties. You find yourself bare before him, biting down on your bottom lip as he toys with your cunt, keeping your legs open as his kneels between them.  

“Pretty girl,” Naoya whispers before slapping your folds for the first time followed by, “Count.” 

And you tried, you desperately tried as he went between slapping your folds and soothing the harsh sting with rubbing your arousal across your pussy. One, two… the number normally got caught in your throat around five in a sob. 

Eventually you resort to pathetically whimpering “please” in hopes he’ll show mercy on you and when he tuts, you brace yourself for another slap only to be met with a finger poking at your entrance.

“You’re getting so wet,” he hums in approval, playing with the slick that has formed down there. “Who thought a girl like you would get so wet at such cruelty?” 

He forces a thick finger in, groaning at the way your walls try desperately to resist and force him out. You’re so tight, it’s not an easy feat you know, leaving you with a stinging pain as he stretches you open. Your back arches when he uses his other hand to touch your clit and you can’t help but let out a sharp moan as he slips a second finger inside your walls. . 

When you look up at him, Naoya almost seems entranced, eyes focused on what’s between your thighs only for you to break it when his fingers curl inside you. They touch a sweet spot, one that makes your hips dig into the mattress beneath you and let out a strangled moan, one that his gaze peering back up to you. 

He keeps toying with it till you feel that knowing sensation grow in your stomach while keeping his focus completely on you and you feel yourself clench around him, greedily asking for more. You think he feels it, picking up his pace and as he does making your toes curl. 

You’re so close to the edge, hands desperately clawing at the sheets before your orgasm finally washes over you. You’re breathless after, legs trembling, trying to close around Noaya’s hips but unable to. When it finally stops and you look up at him, he’s smirking down at you, the hunger still burning in his eyes at you. It’s clear that this is far from over and you’re only proven right when Naoya presses his body next to yours, not even giving you a second before he’s lining himself up with your entrance. And you, unrecognisable compared to the woman you were minutes ago, welcome him.

[discordiansamba]

zuko discovered his earthbending when he was around five and panicked. he can't be an earthbender. they're fighting earthbenders.

so he just. hides it. pretends he's a nonbender.

but he can't stay away from the lure of earthbending, so he sometimes practices in secret. it's really hard trying to figure things out on his own.

eventually ozai finds out about this and well. he's not happy about it. he knows it's impossible that ursa was unfaithful, which means there's no doubt zuko is his son. but if his son is an earthbender, that would call his rule into question- so he pretends zuko is a bastard and disowns him.

it's fine. he was always a failure anyways.

kenzo 100% knows zuko is not his grandson. zuko does not know this. kenzo does not know who exactly zuko actually is- it's not really important anyways. he's a child who was traveling all alone. he needs a warm bed and food in his stomach. a place to stay where he can be safe.

he assumes that zuko might be from the colonies- maybe even of mixed blood, given that he clearly has never had any formal earthbending training in his life.

the villagers are a little suspicious of zuko at first, given the fact that he's obviously fire-blooded, but as time goes on they kind of forget their suspicions. if kenzo says he's his grandson, that's good enough for them.

lao beifong is a frequent patron of kenzo, and therefore zuko travels to gaoling often to deliver his finished commissions. lao has absolutely asked kenzo to teach his daughter toph the art of pottery at one point, feeling that it would be a fine pastime for his poor blind daughter, but kenzo took one 'look' at her and was like. what this young girl wants is not a peaceful life of pottery.

kenzo is not completely blind, but can only make out vague shapes and outlines. he lost his eyesight much later in his life, due to an illness. he was already working as a potter then and had to relearn his craft.

zuko ends up befriending toph. of course he does.

toph: huh. who's this guy and why is he lying about what his name is. ah well. none of MY concern.

zuko attends an earth rumble and watches as the little beifong girl absolutely thrashes grown men twice her side. hah. blind and helpless his ass. grandpa was right.

she agrees to help teach him more combative earthbending. she likes the cut of your jib, mudslinger.

you've seen: the gaang forgets toph is blind. now get ready for: toph forgets zuko isn't blind, because he's been exclusively taught earthbending by two blind people.

zuko may be doing a little light blue spiriting on the side. just a tad.

he gets roped into a standing draft of earthbenders a little bit before aang gets out of the iceberg and is just like. well. fuck. this isn't a great development but if i'll definitely draw more attention to myself if i try to desert.

the term of service is only three years. he can get through that, right? then he can go back home to grandpa.

...oh uh. huh. that is his home, isn't it?

at least he makes a new friend? sensu seems like a great guy.

coincidentally happens to be in the area when zhao captures aang. this looks like a great time to sneak out of camp and do a few blue spirit activities.

iroh helps protect the moon spirit at the north pole and later asks aang for a favor. can you keep an eye out for my nephew as you travel the earth kingdom? his father falsely disowned him as a bastard years ago and i have reason to believe he has been hiding there.

sokka: that shouldn't be too hard. a firebender in the earth kingdom should stand out.

iroh: no. he is an earthbender actually.

sokka: what.

(zuko's past, is in fact, about to catch up with him. but he has more important things to worry about- like sensu's unit being captured.

time for blue spirit activities?

hey wait is that the avatar.)

earthbender zuko would just be shun zuko getting mistaken by a blind potter for his dead grandson and then just. never leaving. he can't break this old man's heart. he ends up learning not only his craft but also a lot of other earthbending tips and tricks from the old man whom he genuinely starts to think of as his grandpa at some point.

(spoiler alert: the old man knows full well zuko isn't his grandson. in fact he doesn't even have a grandson. but the scrawny, clearly starving and definitely abused refugee kid will definitely stick around if he pretends to think otherwise.)

...and then he gets drafted into the earth king's army. well. isn't this ironic.

[iamzer0]

𝙂𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙥 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙁𝙚𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙣

Yandere platonic Feitan

You and feitan weren’t blood related, but you had grown up together as siblings.

Before he met the troupe he had met you, you were in a small wedge between some fallen rubble and the ground.

It wasn’t comfortable but it was safe.

You didn’t speak Feitans language but understood it.

You and him survived together, sharing the warmth and little food y’all had.

You and him stumbled across the troupe, at the time they were just a group of friends.

Y’all had integrated into the small group, it was a strange life but y’all were safe for the most part.

You loved Feitan with all your heart he was the only family you ever had.

But you absolutely hated how possessive he could get.

You always had to stay by him and only him, were he went you followed unless it was dangerous then you had to stay back.

You wanted to fight, to show your worth but he would never let you.

His presence around you become increasingly suffocating as y’all grew.

You never really talked much, you never needed too. You made simple gestures with your hands to communicate.

Like your own made up sign language.

Two hands clasped together pointed down meant you were bothered or upset. Two hands pointed up meant you were ok or at peace.

It had for the most part been a normal day.

Feitan and you had went out to retrieve an item that was sought after on the black market for its rarity.

As you and Feitan walked down the street you looked around at the various people, places, items etc.

You never strayed once but Feitan saw you looking around and took hold of your wrist forcing you to stay shoulder to shoulder with him.

Once again you were reminded of his possessive tendencies.

You absolutely hated it, you couldn’t do anything with him firmly planted to your side.

As he retrieves the artifact, you were standing on the side like always. You were thinking about how unfair it was, why did he get do all these cool jobs and you do jackshit.

He treated you like an incapable toddler, even though you had only been a couple yrs younger.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Feitan grabbing your wrist leading you, this signaled he was done and y’all are leaving.

You pulled back your wrist.

He turned back to look at you, you quickly signed with your makeshift sign language.

The gist of what you were saying was ‘why don’t you left me do anything’ you were quick and angry with your signing.

“Let’s go” he said in a cold tone.

You tried to protest but you were pulled by your wrist, hard.

You tried pulling away, but he simply tightened his grip.

Y’all had arrived at the hideout, he passed off the item too Machi.

The second he let go of you, you walked of stomping the entire way.

“What’s up with them?” Shalnark asked Feitan,

Feitan didn’t answer, simply speed walking to were you were.

He couldn’t understand your anger, you had no reason to be angry. At least that’s what he thought.

Most of the troupe was gathered in the main area, that’s were you had walked too.

You were currently leaning against one of the rocks, when Feitan walked in.

He walked up to you, but you didn’t not want to face him you got up and turned away attempting to walk off.

He grabbed your shoulder, you shook him off.

But he suddenly grabbed you turning you to face him.

As this was unfolding the troupe grew quiet, watching y’all.

You quickly signed something, they had no idea what you were signing, but by your quick hands and angry look they could tell it wasn’t good.

He responded in a language they didn’t know, his response roughly translated to ‘you aren’t ready, your too young’

You signed back quicker and angrier, ‘I am ready! You never let me do anything’ you were angry, and determined to make him listen.

He responded again in his native tongue, ‘i protect you, I make sure you are safe, isn’t that enough’

You go back and forth, until he puts down his foot saying again in his native language, ‘you will listen to what I say, you. Are. Not. Ready.’ He said roughly.

For the first time in a long time, you spoke. Blurting out “I HATE YOU” you yell, voice raspy from not speaking all these years.

The entire room is silent, Feitan eyes wide.

You have never spoken this way, ever. It was a shock them all, especially Feitan.

Tears weld in your eyes, not from sadness from anger.

At that moment you hated everyone especially Feitan.

You walked away, hurriedly.

Feitan was standing there frozen in shock.

You had fallen asleep against the wall of your shared room, I bet you can take a wild guess on who you share it with.

Feitan walked in careful to not alert you that he was there.

In one swift motion he bent down, and shoved a needle in your neck, you woke for a brief second due to the pain, then quickly fell back a sleep.

He quickly in one motion stood up, you in his arms bringing you to his bed.

He had chained you to the bed post, making sure you couldn’t slip out by any means.

He sat by you, staring at you.

He was lost in thought, you were his family.

You couldn’t hate him, it wasn’t possible. You were just moody that was the only explanation.

He knew deep down that you would leave the first chance you got and he couldn’t take that risk.

You would understand eventually, he knew you would.

Im sorry this took so long I’m traveling to see family rn so I’ve been busy. I am working on a story but it’s taking me longer than I thought. Anyway imma stay on that grind trust. Love u all so much bye bye(((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

[chryseiswriting-blog]

Thing is, shits gonna have to get worse before it gets better. We will have to see either Jean or Jeremy get beaten to a bloody pulp before we finally see Jean snap.

I’m just glad when he does break, all those years of pent up rage will make whoever it is at fault regret the day they were born. He will rise like a hound out of hell and he will drag them, kicking and screaming, into the flames that burnt him all those times before.

He’s going to burn the house down.

I’m kind of hoping it’ll be Jeremy— king of the sunshine court, all bloody knuckles and bruised lips— who snaps but let’s not talk about that rn

[doll-for-you-11]

Imagine you find a nice guy, go on a few dates and decide you like him enough to let him take your virginity.

He holds you and kisses you and asks if you're sure a million times and he makes sure to get you ready beforehand.

When he first pushes in he's so gentle, praising you as he moves slowly, stretching you out for the first time.

He thrusts gently, rubbing your clit, kissing your neck, telling you how good you feel for him until you start to get close.

He tells you to cum for him and it feels amazing, filled up with his cock, his praise in your ear, pleasure tearing through you.

But then he doesn't stop. He keeps rubbing your clit, he starts fucking harder and faster.

Your mind is a mess already and you assume he's just trying to get himself over the edge. You try to pry his wrist away but he doesn't budge.

Your back arches as it becomes too much and you cum again. He starts laughing. He starts mocking you and he still doesn't stop.

You're writhing under him as he starts pounding into you, bullying your clit rougher forcing you to cum again and again.

Your eyes are rolled back, body shaking, you cant move to fight him as he keeps going. Hips smashing against yours hard enough now to leave bruises.

His free hand grips your throat, your eyes wide in fear as he smirks down at you. "I said Id be gentle the first time, but this is what? The 5th now? Little whore just cant stop cumming hmm?" He mocks as he pulls all the way out only to slam back in. Squeezing your throat harder at the scream you try to let out.

By the end of the night you cant even count how many times he made you cum. At some point you blacked out, waking up to find yourself tied to the bed, blindfolded and gagged. Something much harder than his cock pumping in and out of you. Something metal.

Over time you'd come to learn that it was a fucking machine. He tells you you need to be filled at all times now that you're broken in.

Turns out by allowing him to take your virginity, you've agreed to become his entirely. And your mind is far too fucked out to come up with any logical reason why that wouldnt make sense. It does make sense. You're his now. His little fuck whore, for him to train to take him as he pleases.

And it really doesn't take long for you to learn to like it, because he's not wrong about what a dirty little slut you are in the slightest.

[writerfromthestars]

DPXDC PROMPT : ALFRED IS IMMORTAL

Alright. Don't get me wrong, I love au's where John Constantine is like "soul tax evader supreme", but hear me out.

Alfred.

Alfred, Alfred Pennyworth. Who just doesn't die. The guy's immortal. The reason for this is that Alfred is awesome, so anytime he dies, whether it be from old age or a bullet or a world-wide catastrophe, he looks Death straight in the eyes and tells them that he will die when the day comes that no one needs him anymore, and not a second before, and then he just kinda pops back to life. Because let's face it, the batfam would fall to pieces without him.

So, Alfred Pennyworth has basically just been cheating death for centuries, by this point.

Needless to say, Death is none too pleased. Finally, Death goes to Phantom, the new king, who is much more reasonable than Pariah Dark was and who agrees to actually help.

Clockwork helps Danny set up a portal and he zaps into existence in the middle of a Wayne movie night. The bats are all prepared to fight this mysterious weirdo, but Danny ignores them and turns to Alfred, who he then begins lecturing about ghostly tax evasion and how defying death isn't a good thing, so he needs to file paperwork through the proper channels to stay as an immortal almost-God.

Alfred is chill, he plays cards with Clockwork once when he dies, so he knew this was coming, but the batfamily thinks that this mysterious entity is going to kill Alfred, so they're all panicking, trying to think of ways to avoid this horrible future. Alfred calmly listens to Danny, then he interjects.

"Sir, are you aware of the fact that there is a revenant on earth? One who is most certainly under threat of more paperwork than I, seeing as he has been using the Lazarus Pits to revive himself for millennia. I, however, have only been alive for a few hundred years, so I should think that he is a bigger priority. "

Danny glances over at Jason, doubtful. "He doesn't look several millennia old, Mr. Pennyworth."

"Certainly not, seeing as Master Jason is not. Besides, his Undeath License was filed. I have a copy of it if you need to see it, your Majesty?" Alfred answers, demure as always.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble, sir."

Alfred leaves and returns, moments later with a light green glowing piece of paper. he hands it over to Danny, who examines it.

"Seems legitimate. I assume you filed it during one of your many encounters with Death?"

"Indeed. I have it on good authority, however, that the other revenant, a man by the name of Ra's Al Ghul, has not renewed his License in at least the last half millennia, most likely longer."

Danny sighs. "Where can I find him."

"Nanda Parbat. The signature is impossible to miss."

"Alright, Mr. Pennyworth. I will return once he is dealt with, be it by filing his paperwork or returning him to the Infinite Realms."

"Very well. I will be ready." Alfred answers.

Danny opens a portal to the area around Nanda Parbat and then another, which plops him down right in front of the Demon's Head himself, in a strategy meeting with his daughter and several commanders.

They all raise their weapons, but he just basically grabs Ra's by the ear and tugs him through a Lazarus Green portal, lecturing him about tax evasion and paperwork and bureaucracy the whole time. The League is thrown into uproar, and Ra's is set down in a room with all his overdue paperwork from the past few thousand years. He feels a little bit like crying; if he had known immortality meant this much paperwork, he would've just died, honestly.

Meanwhile, in Wayne Manor, everyone is crying, because they think Alfred is going to die, Jason is confused about the whole revenant Undeath Certificate thing, Bruce is trying to make contingency plans, Tim is contacting the Justice League, and Alfred is planning out his defense and going through every ghostly law loophole he can think of because if he leaves these emotionally constipated crime-fighting vigilantes, he knows that the house that Martha so loved will go up in flames within a month.

Eventually, Danny comes to get Alfred for his ghostly court trial/hearing or whatever, and Alfred says goodbye to Bruce and everyone, goes to the Infinite Realms. Clockwork is on his side, and Alfred ends up winning the court case, on the condition that now that the has an Undeath License, he actually renew it every twenty years, like he's supposed to.

A week later, Alfred returns, crashes his own funeral, and explains that no, he will not be dying anytime soon.

Two weeks after Alfred's return, Constantine shows up at the manor basically begging to learn how the hell he managed to avoid death, and not only that, win a damn court case against them.

[angelfic]

— IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU BABY

pairing: mattheo riddle x nott!reader

summary: you weren't quite used to the attention of other boys, and it seems your brother's best friend isn't too fond of it either

warnings: brother's best friend trope!! swearing, kissing, not much else, very much unedited

author’s note: i don't tend to stray outside of the marauders era characters buuuut i've been a bit obsessed with mattheo and theo recently so this was for my own selfish needs lol as always let me know what you think!!

He had barely looked away from you all evening.

You knew the only reason Mattheo’s eyes had been fixed on you for the entirety of dinner was because of a certain type of attention you had unconsciously garnered on your first day back at school. Particularly male attention. It wasn’t any less disconcerting, however, knowing that your brother’s best friend was prepared to fist fight any potential romantic advances towards you because he was just as protective as your actual older sibling.

Your brother Theodore is no better, a displeased frown appearing every five minutes when he looks over to where you sit at the Gryffindor table.

“Merlin, boys are pathetic,” Ginny mutters, spearing a potato with her fork. “You go away for one summer and come back slightly prettier and they flock to you like bees to honey!” You’re about to weakly protest that she’s exaggerating, but at that exact moment you’re interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.

You slowly turn on the bench, reluctantly lowering your goblet of pumpkin juice to face Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw boy who you’d only ever spoken to when he was going out with Ginny.

“Hi, Michael,” you sigh, offering him a bland smile.

“Hello, Nott,” Michael replies, with what he probably thinks is a winning smile. “Had a good summer? I was just going to ask if you wanted to go on the first Hogsmeade visit of the term with me.”

You stare at him, unblinking. “Er- well, as… nice as that sounds,” you say slowly, not meaning a word. You glance at Ginny as pointedly as you can manage and raise an eyebrow. “I don’t quite relish the idea of going out with my best friend’s ex.”

“Oh! I, erm, I didn’t actually see you there, Ginny,” he stammers, laughing sheepishly. “My mistake.”

“Quite,” Ginny says drily, turning back to her plate of food.

“Well, er, see you later then,” Michael mumbles, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes back to the Ravenclaw table.

You bite your lip to stifle your giggles but it’s not long before you catch Ginny’s eye and the both of you erupt into fits of laughter.

“I can’t believe I ever went out with him,” Ginny groans, wiping her eyes.

“Was he always such a tosser or is that new?” you ask, snorting at the way Ginny scrunches up her face in embarrassment.

You’re still laughing when your eyes happen to pass over the Slytherin table just to focus on Mattheo.

You notice with a jolt that he’s looking at you again. This time, his eyes flick over to the Ravenclaw table for a second where Michael has settled back onto, then back to you and he quirks a brow quizzically.

Frowning, you mouth at him to stop in hopes that he ceases his scrutiny, just for him to roll his eyes and return to whatever one-sided conversation Blaise Zabini was attempting to engage him in. You hope you don’t look as flustered as you feel after realising Mattheo has just witnessed such an embarrassing encounter, but you’ve found over the years that you’re not the best at hiding the effects he has on you. Theo has never mentioned it in front of Mattheo as far as you’re aware, but he definitely hasn’t shied away from teasing you about the childhood crush you have on your brother’s closest friend. Not that you’ve ever admitted it to him anyway, and you’ve gotten a lot better at hiding it since nothing could ever come of it.

“Your brother and Riddle have been looking like they’re ready to halve the male population of Hogwarts since we got on the bloody train,” Ginny says, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Tell me about it,” you sigh, cutting into your carrot a little more viciously than needed. “They keep looking over at our table. I feel like I’m on one of those Muggle reality television programmes Hermione was telling your dad about the other week.”

Arthur Weasley was absolutely transfixed when he was learning about reality television from Hermione during breakfast the week you both stayed at The Burrow, and although you zoned out after his sixteenth question about a singular programme, you feel as though you caught the gist of it.

“Hm,” Ginny agrees, grimacing at the memory. She had nodded off at the table during that conversation and fallen asleep on her slice of toast. “In fairness, that’s not really a new thing.”

“What, being watched by my two guard dogs?” you ask in a mock-serious voice.

“Yeah, but…” Ginny chews thoughtfully for a second before answering. “I’m not just talking about today, or even recently. Your brother mostly minds his own business. I’m talking about Riddle. He’s always looking at you, I noticed it last year. Wherever we are, kind of like he’s checking up on you,” she says like it’s common knowledge, shrugging. “It’s sweet, I guess.”

You blink at her, a little speechless.

“What?” Ginny frowns after a few seconds of your silence. You look at her with raised eyebrows, not really taking her seriously. In your first few years at Hogwarts, you had confided in Ginny regarding your silly, little girl feelings for Mattheo and she would read into every action he took towards you in an attempt to prove he liked you too. Obviously, he saw you as nothing but a younger sister figure and once you grew up a bit, Ginny had let it go too.

Ginny reads your dubious expression now and sets down her knife and fork to cross her arms. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m serious! I’m not just saying it because you were helplessly in love with him until you were, like, fourteen.”

“Shush!” you hiss, thwacking her arm. “Why don’t you just get up on stage with Dumbledore and ask him to include that titbit of information for the entire school to hear in his speech!”

“Good idea,” she says, nodding seriously and starting to get up. You know she’s just teasing, but you start spluttering and frantically grab at her sleeve to sit her back down, causing her to topple onto you slightly. This sets you both off laughing again and you find it hard to stop for the rest of dinner and desert, thankfully staying far away from the topic of Mattheo. You also pointedly avoid looking at him again.

Once dinner is over, you head to the Gryffindor common room with the rest of your house and catch up with everyone for a while. After a couple hours of socialising and fifteen minutes of helping Neville Longbottom search for his pet toad, you head up to your dorm with Ginny and Lena, one of your other dormmates, to unpack.

As soon as you open your luggage, you search for your pyjamas and immediately change out of your robes and into a t-shirt and baggy shorts for comfort. You’re in the middle of unpacking some textbooks when you hear Lena whistle from behind you.

“I do not remember those pyjamas looking like that,” Lena comments, grinning at you. Rolling your eyes, you comply with her request to do a little spin and you can’t help feeling pleased when Lena and Ginny start whooping and hollering. “You’ve always been gorgeous, but you really grew up this summer, huh? Look at those legs!”

“Tell me about it,” Ginny pipes in, flopping down on her bed and abandoning her unpacked suitcase. “She came to stay for a week and Mum looked like she was going to cry every time she saw us. Something about ‘blossoming into young ladies’ or whatever bollocks.”

“You ‘blossomed’ last year,” you point out, and Lena hums in agreement. “I haven’t forgotten how Zacharias Smith fell off his broom trying to wave at you during Quidditch practice.”

Ginny groans and starts ranting about teenage boys again. Lena joins in and starts teasing her about how Harry Potter is the only boy she hasn’t complained about and you’re about to set down your belongings to help Lena dodge the pillows Ginny is throwing at her when a flash of green and silver in your suitcase catches your eye.

“Shite, I have Theo’s uniform,” you huff, grabbing the clothes out of your suitcase and sliding your slippers on. “That means he has mine and I am not dealing with this at seven in the morning. I’m gonna go drop this off, be back in a minute.”

Ginny says goodbye before resuming her pillow attack on Lena as you make your way out of the room and down into the common room. It’s nearly empty, with most people having gone to their rooms to pack and a quick glance at the clock tells you its past curfew. You decide to take the risk since you have a reasonable excuse, but you hope that if you do get caught, it isn’t by Filch or Snape.

By the time you’ve reached the dungeons, you thank Merlin that Theo had the sense to tell you the password for the Slytherin common room before dinner in case of emergency.

“Pureblood,” you mutter, fighting the urge to scoff when the door swings open. You enter the common room and brighten up when you see that the only students still hanging around are Theo and his friends. Your brother seems to have already started unpacking since he’s standing and holding your uniform, presumably about to come and find you. His friends all mumble polite ‘hello’s and he walks up to you with a smile.

“Oh, hey, I was just-” Theo cuts himself off when he properly looks at you and frowns. “Wha- Why are you wearing pyjamas out and about?”

“You’re wearing pyjamas too!” you exclaim, slightly embarrassed that your brother is doing this in front of your friends. They all turn to look at you again, hearing the indignation in Theo’s voice and you notice Mattheo suddenly sits up straighter. Suddenly aware of your bare legs, you tug down the material of your shorts, despite the fact they aren’t even very short to begin with.

“Oi. Stop looking at my sister!”” Theo snaps, glaring at Blaise, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. You know the only reason they glanced at you in the first place is out of curiosity regarding Theo’s question, but Theo and Mattheo scowl at them all the same and they all start sputtering, Draco in particular when Pansy narrows her eyes at him. Theo sighs at you, quickly exchanging your uniforms. “Just- at least take something to cover up back to your room.”

“I’ll walk her back,” Mattheo says, out of nowhere. He stands up and makes his way over to you, face carefully blank. Theo nods, agreeing quickly before he ruffles your hair goodbye to go and finish packing. You’re too surprised by Mattheo’s offer to protest until you’re already out of the Slytherin common room.

“I don’t need someone to walk me back, you know,” you mumble after a minute of charged silence.

“It was either me or Theo,” he shrugs, completely unapologetic when his mouth quirks up in a smug smile. “And I know you prefer me.”

“You’re both equally annoying,” you say, rolling your eyes, happy that he’s talking to you like normal again. You hated it whenever Mattheo was serious – it was rarely ever towards you and you much preferred when his whole face lit up with a smile. He begins to tease you about your bunny rabbit slippers and you’re in the middle of pretending to be irked when you both run into Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff prefect doing patrol duties.

“Hey,” Ernie offers you a friendly smile and gives Mattheo a brief, slightly nervous glance. While you prefer not to get into trouble for breaking curfew, Mattheo clearly couldn’t care less and his relaxed, yet intimidating stance must be off-putting to Ernie. Thankfully, you’re on friendly terms with the Hufflepuff and you give him an even brighter smile to make up for it, to which he beams at. “How was your summer?”

“Good, yeah! Erm, listen Ernie. We didn’t mean to be out at this time, it’s just that I accidentally had my brother’s uniform and needed to-”

“Oh, forget it. Don’t worry, I won’t dock you any points,” Ernie reassures you, waving off your excuses and you instantly relax. Ernie gives Mattheo another unsure glance before leaning in the tiniest bit closer to you. You try not to pay attention to how Ernie has been glancing at your legs and how Mattheo tenses up when Ernie starts speaking again. “I was actually wondering if you were available next weekend…?”

Ernie trails off when you don’t show any indication of replying straight away and you snap out of your surprise to say something, but Mattheo beats you to it.

“She’s busy then,” he says coldly, working his jaw. “Now, if you don’t mind, it’s late. Kindly get lost.”

“Wha- Matt!” you hiss, smacking his chest to which he barely flinches, nor does he look at all apologetic. “Ernie, I-”

“Never mind,” he says quickly, seemingly eager to just leave. “I’ll, er, see you later.”

You stand frozen in shock while Ernie rushes down the corridor and turns the corner, leaving you and Mattheo alone. Turning slowly, you look at him with barely contained anger.

“Why the hell did you do that?” you demand, voice sharp as nails. If it weren’t past curfew and you weren’t in the middle of a school corridor, you would most definitely be yelling. Mattheo stands with his hands in his pockets, clenching his jaw and his silence makes you even angrier. You accepted long ago that you’d never have a chance with him, but now he was getting in the way of you having a chance with anyone. It was completely unfair. “What if I actually wanted to go out with him?!”

Mattheo scowls at this, but his impossibly dark brown eyes flash with a hint of uncertainty. “Did you?”

“What?” you ask, impatient.

“Did you want to go out with him?” he says, voice low and dangerous. He walks forward, towering over you and you refuse to be intimidated so you start walking backward until your back is against the wall. Despite having cornered you, he maintains a fair amount of distance between you, leaving plenty of space if you want to move away. You don’t.

“That’s none of your business,” you say stubbornly, raising your chin and trying your best to keep your voice steady. Mattheo narrows his eyes and reduces the distance between you ever so slightly with another small step. You nervously keep talking. “I can go out with whoever I want.” Another step. “And you can’t just-” One more step. “Matt.” His shoes are flush with your slippers.

“What?” he whispers, tilting his head and looking at you calmly, while you feeling anything but calm. “I can’t just… what?”

The previously respectable distance has gone out the window and instead you barely have space to breathe with the way Mattheo is leaning in, head dipped toward you but never touching, hands resting on the wall either side of you. He leans in, eyes dropping to your lips and your heart leaps in your chest with anticipation, but he ghosts his lips over your jaw instead and the barely-there contact has you breathing unevenly.

“You can’t…” you exhale, trying to finish your sentence with some dignity and failing miserably. “You can’t just scare people off like an overprotective older brother.”

Mattheo stills, lifting his head enough to meet your eyes, but making no move to distance himself any further. He scoffs quietly. “Brother,” he says the word with a mildly disgusted scowl. “Is that what you think I want to be?”

“I- I don’t…”

“You don’t know,” Mattheo finishes for you, the corners of his mouth turning up, yet his expression is devoid of humour. “No, you don’t know how badly I wanted to hex Macmillan just now. How badly I wanted to try out some new, experimental spells on that fucking Ravenclaw earlier. But none of that had anything to do with brotherly feelings.”

“They were just being nice,” you say stupidly, with not a clue in the world as to why you’re defending them right now. If anything, you’re just confused.

Mattheo quirks a brow, tongue pressing against his cheek as he considers your words. “That Ravenclaw from earlier was talking about you on the train. He said he was going to ask you out at dinner because you’d ‘gotten hot’ over summer,” Mattheo sneers, like he’s suddenly regretting not hexing Michael Corner in the Great Hall. “They weren’t being nice.”

All of a sudden, you feel irritated because you have no idea why Mattheo is telling you any of this. “What’s wrong with a boy finding me attractive? Is that such a crazy idea?” you demand, part of you not wanting him to answer.

“Merlin, do I seriously have to say it?” he groans, sighing when you glare at him. Mattheo takes a breath, meeting your eyes and you marvel at the sincerity you see when he speaks. “You didn’t ‘get hot’ over the summer. You’ve always been beautiful and they’re idiots for not paying attention then.”

Your breath catches in your throat, whether it’s from emotion or from the close proximity with Mattheo, you aren’t sure. “You think I’m beautiful?”

Mattheo nods, leaning back in to brush his nose against your own, his breath mingling with yours. “Always have.”

You take this as a cue to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in and the next thing you know, his mouth is firm against yours, and his hands are finally touching you, grabbing you by the waist and sliding up your back to hold you closer. You’ve thought about kissing Mattheo before, but the thoughts feel utterly stupid compared to the real thing. Mattheo kisses you fiercely, mouth sliding hot and wet against your own making you come alive and weakening you at the same time. He nips at your bottom lip and you gasp, causing him to smile into the kiss. Your hands are sliding up his chest to snake around his neck when a thought suddenly occurs to you and you pull away abruptly.

“Oh my God, Theodore,” you hiss, covering your mouth with your hand. Mattheo furrows his brows, looking a little dazed and confused. “What are we going to tell him?”

 “He knows I’ve loved you since we were kids,” Mattheo says flippantly, waving you off and impatiently starting to lean in again, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. “What?”

“You’ve loved me since we were kids?” The words hardly register, but before you can feel any sort of elation, you mostly feel pissed off that your brother has clearly had his fun with the situation for years. “And Theo knows?”

“Yes,” Mattheo says slowly, as if he were talking to a child. He brushes the hair out of your face and his gaze turns a little uncertain when he speaks. “Er, this is hopefully the part where you say you feel the same way.”

“Well, of course I feel the same way,” you huff, still thoroughly annoyed at Theo. “He knew I was crazily in love with you too and the bastard was so irritating about it!”

You’re about three quarters of the way down a list of ways you want to get back at your brother when Mattheo gently turns your face by the chin to look at him. “As much as I’d love for you to plot against your brother right now, it’s kind of a mood killer thinking about him when I’m kissing you.”

“Sorry, sorry. Continue with the kissing.”

“How romantic,” he says drily. His smirk turns smug, however, when he processes your previous statement. “So… you were in love with me too. What was the word you used, again? Crazily? Crazily in love…”

“Don’t make me take it back, ‘cause I swear I will.”

© angelfic 2023.

[taco-rambles]

DC XDP prompt: Danny falls out of a portal literally into Batmans arms in a JL meeting.

Feel free to play with this. I probably will write more, but I'm STUCK and don't know how to write the JL or anyone else for that matter.

XXX

The Justice League meeting had gone very well. For once there were no major crisis from anyone attending, and all of the regular members of the league were in attendance. A few of the second row hero’s had begged off for one reason or another, but nothing that was a threat of any real kind.

Batman was wary, and on edge as the meeting wrapped up. It was never this simple, it just couldn’t be. There was always some kind of threat to keep an eye on, but the worst thing that had come up during the meeting were routine security updates.

No one else seemed to be on edge from the far too calm, routine meeting, and Bruce had just about convinced himself that it was really just one of those meetings where nothing outrageous would happen. It was ideal even…

Then the alarms went off, in the specific modulation that indicated a magical incursion.

Batman wasn’t the only one who’s hands went to weapons when the portal materialized above the meeting room table only a moment after the alarm went off. Swirling lazarus green had him ready for the fight even as the rest of the league went into defensive positions around the incursion.

“What…” Flash started to ask about a minute later when nothing had happened yet, the alarms still blaring.

That’s when something came flying out of the portal, at speed, back first.

Batman had a split second to decide to attack… or not. A split second to try to process the impressions and decide if this was an attack.

The portal closed as he cradled the small body that had crashed into his arms, the alarms silencing a moment later as the rest of the league tried to catch up, all of them wondering if this was some new threat.

Batman looked down at the child in his arms, a boy in his mid teens and small for his age, with white hair framing a frighteningly familiar looking face, gently pointed ears, and fangs in a mouth that gasped for breath against pain. The eyes were closed, twisted tight as the child clutched at his chest and belly, holding together severed flesh that leaked lazarus green blood from a clinical and too regular wound. Fingers tipped with small claws spasmed, tears coming from closed eyes.

“Batman?” Wonder Woman asked, Diana’s voice filled with concern as Bruce wrapped the child in his arms and stood up from where he had been knocked on his ass catching said child.

“Call down to medical. Severely wounded unknown,” he snapped, moving towards the door, only to stop as there was a flash of light in his arms, and the child suddenly gained a solid weight that was closer to human. The blood dripping from passed out hands was now brilliant red, fingertips blunt with chewed nails, the boy’s skin going from pale white to… a healthier tone.

Bruce consciously stopped cataloging his observations then, swiftly making his way to medical. Whatever this boy was, whether he intended to tug at Batman’s heart the way he was or not, was severely wounded and needed medical attention immediately.

He could process it all, and wonder why a child looking exactly like Damian Wayne had been thrown into his arms through a lazarus portal later.

XXXXX

An hour later, after a discreet call to his youngest just to be sure, Bruce watched the now sedated child in the medical cot, working on trying to face match the databases and find out if the child came from earth or not.

The searches primarily turned up Damian Wayne. Bruce knew for certain this child was not his son, but he was also running a DNA analysis because this Might be his son. It made a disheartening amount of sense for this boy to be another version of Damien, perhaps from another dimension, or some manner of clone, or perhaps Talia had simply hidden another child of his away… Bruce needed to narrow down the possibilities, to find the truth.

Of course, it was equally possible that this boy was some manner of mimic, taking on a form that would ensure his safety in unknown environment, a shape shifter intentionally injuring himself in order to infiltrate the Watchtower. Though that last theory didn’t make sense for a number of reasons. Most shape shifters would be secure enough in their abilities to simply try to mimic someone who already had access to the watch tower, to say nothing of the boy’s dramatic entrance.

Batman wasn’t thinking logically. Bruce couldn’t simply leave the boy here though. Not until he knew more, everything relevant by preference. The thought that this might be his son in any way was enough to keep him near, but he could already tell he was compromised.

He had already informed Diana and Clark, and both of them had agreed that he should stay nearby until they had the situation sorted out.

Bruce had been stuck in a circular though pattern for about fifteen minutes when a green form came into the room, J’onn looking at him calmly.

“Can you find anything out?” Batman asked without preamble, unable to bring himself to observe polite pleasantries when he was so unsettled.

“Nothing beyond surface thoughts. The boy’s mind is static and pain of the emotional kind,” J’onn stated after a moment.

Batman nodded, accepting the answer. J’onn’s abilities weren’t always the answer to everything, could indeed often be a crutch that led to the wrong answers. But they could also give the Justice League a starting point often enough.

“You should rest friend. It is unlikely that the boy will awaken soon…” J’onn cut himself off with a quiet look at the boy. “Or not. He’s coming around.”

Batman watched as the child’s eyes blinked open, drowsy expression turning to the two heros without much recognition. Bruce didn’t let himself react, kept himself in a calm pose even as his mind once more went into overdrive.

The boy had blue eyes, not green like Damian's.

[haetrack]

"girl who is going to be okay" back with the hard hour!

i know you tend to write more dominant and sexier y/ns (which i think are chef's kiss, esp the doms) but when it comes to jaemin for some reason i always imagine him with a less experienced y/n.

he wants to be oh so sweet to you, taking his time by slowly dragging his cock through your warm walls, his head nuzzled in your neck, but you just won't stop squeezing around him out of nervousness. idk why but the image of a man trying his hardest to restrain himself from going the pace that he wants, having to come to a still multiple times while all the way inside you to just take a breather and calm down, is just so hot?

jaemin x afab!reader

wc: 6.4k

warnings: pwop LOL, established relationship, inexperienced reader, desperate jaemin, dry humping, fingering, praise, oral, protected sex, soft dom!jaemin, sub!reader

a/n: don't ask me what happened... i lost the fight against jaemin brainrot...

-

jaemin has been trying to control himself recently.

he’s always been more cautious with you knowing that you still get shy around him. he asks if he can kiss you, softly placing his lips on yours. his hands never grip too tight around your waist, and they never wander down too far. unless it’s you who’s initiating the touching, he’ll keep his hands to himself to stop the need to hold you tight against him.

even if he wants to.

it’s been an ongoing struggle recently. he doesn’t know why, but he’s been filled with the need to have your warm walls around his length. on the late nights where you’re not there with him, he’s left alone to fuck his fist, imagining it’s you wrapped around him. he’d be so good to you, taking care of your every need.

he knows that he’s supposed to take it slow with you. you opened up to him saying that you were more inexperienced and that you were open to trying things with him. you just wanted to take it slow, you weren’t in a rush. he obviously respected your opinion, but he can’t help the thoughts that flooded his mind.

all he could manage was a soft smile and a press of his lips onto yours. he couldn’t wait to have you how you wanted.

-

jaemin wants you to come onto him. he doesn’t want to pressure you into something you’re not ready for yet. 

it’s one night where you’re both watching a movie. you’re cuddled up into his side, trying hard to pay attention to the movie playing in front of you. you’re not sure what’s gotten into you, but you can’t stop thinking about jaemin. he’s not doing anything, his hand is smoothing over your side as he watches the movie. 

you keep thinking of your words from the other day. you were the one who suggested going slow, but as you’re sitting next to him now, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to hold up your words. you don’t know how to bring it up. you’re not even sure what exactly it is that you want.

you can feel heat building up in your body, your cheeks growing hot the more time you spend at jaemin’s side. you bury your head into his shoulder, and jaemin coos at the sight of you. you almost feel guilty for feeling so… like this while he has no idea. you can feel frustration build up inside you, tears threatening to prick at your eyes as you want something you’re not even used to.

you accidentally let out a soft whine, immediately slapping a hand around your mouth. you pull away from jaemin, your shocked eyes looking into his. he looks more worried than anything, his eyes scanning all across your face as he asks, “are you alright, angel? is anything wrong?”

he watches as you shake your head no. for a moment, he’s worried for you, his hands moving to hold yours as he checks over you. he’s quick to realize how your thighs are squeezing together. it’s easy for him to pick up what’s wrong with you. there’s a small smile on his face when he puts one of his hands on your cheek, “you feel hot. you need to tell me what’s wrong so i can help you.”

judging by how he’s looking at you, you can tell he probably already knows what’s wrong. you let out a shaky breath, unable to come up with any words. his thumb rubs softly into the skin of your cheek as you nuzzle into his touch. you take a deep breath before you speak, “i… i need your help, jaemin.”

he tilts his head, “with what?”

“w-want you to… touch me.” before he can do anything, you reach for his hand, placing it softly onto your thigh. he stares at it, squeezing lightly as he feels around. he’s touched you before, but there’s a difference between now and the quick, soft touches that he usually lays onto you. you’re asking him to touch you in a voice he’s never heard from you before.

he calls out your name, getting your attention as he stares into your eyes. you slowly move toward him, softly placing your lips onto his. that’s all he needs, your confirmation as he molds his lips against you. his hands hold your face, keeping you still as your hands stay on the couch. one eventually makes it to his thigh, lightly touching it like he touched you earlier.

he lets you pull away from the kiss to take a breath. he finds himself slightly out of breath, too caught up with the feeling of your lips. he wants to feel you closer to him, despite you sitting right by him. he clears his throat, “can i try something?”

you whisper out a yes. he tells you to stand up as you watch him get more comfortable on the couch, spreading his legs apart. he looks up at you, patting his thighs, “come and sit down.”

the initial nervousness comes back as you feel more heat bloom in your face. your hands squeeze into fists as you debate on what you should do. it doesn’t last long, though. there’s a need for you to be close to him, to have him hold you as you kiss him. you want to feel the heat of his body against you as he kisses you.

you move slowly as you settle yourself on top of his thighs. it’s not uncomfortable, but you’re nervous to have him this close to you. he’s smiling at you, his hands sliding up on your thighs, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. he bats his eyelashes at you, “do you still want to kiss?”

nodding, you learn forward to press your lips onto his. you’re mindful of how you’re sitting on him, not wanting to put all your weight down on him. he’s quick to run his hands down your sides, getting you to fully sit down on him. 

he hums against you, gripping down onto your waist. he has you so close, and he can feel how warm you are against him. his tongue darts out, licking at your bottom lip. you open up slightly, letting his tongue lick into your mouth. it’s different from the soft kisses he gives you, and you welcome it as you move your tongue against his.

a soft whine escapes you, and before jaemin can try to get you to make that sound again, you instinctively roll your hips down onto his thigh. jaemin lets out an internal groan, swearing that he could feel you clench on top of him. all he’s done is kiss you and you’re already worked up. you move to get closer to him, your chest against his as he presses a hand to your back.

you roll your hips down, small noises escaping your mouth as you chase any type of friction you can get. your hands make it onto his shoulders for support as you mindlessly grind against him. 

jaemin can feel himself getting hard from the way you’re moving on top of him and from the way you’re whimpering in his mouth. he grabs your hips, shifting you right on top of his clothed cock. you don’t seem to notice at first, but when his cock twitches against your thigh, you pull away from him, staring down.

jaemin starts, “when you move like that on top of me…”

“it feels good for you, too?” 

he nods, smoothing his hand over your back, “i think i could cum just like this. whatever you do, angel, i like.”

you gasp at his words, feeling his hands snake around to your back, moving you forward against him. he lets out a swear at the feeling, moving his hands to your waist as you grind down. there’s a newfound desperation in your movements knowing that jaemin feels just as good as you feel, that you’re making him feel this way. 

you’re on top of him, rolling down your hips in a way that seems too out of character for you. the shy, reserved self that you show to him is gone, replaced with the need to get yourself off with him. you’re using him, pants of his name fan across the skin on his neck as his hands wander a little further down.

he’s no better than you. he’s letting out low grunts as his hips roll up to meet yours. his hands finally make it to your ass, giving it a light squeeze as he lets out a curse. there’s been too many times he’s had to stop himself from doing this, his hands moving a little rougher against you. he helps you roll your hips down onto him, grinding you down onto his tip.

he could easily flip you over, could pull down your shorts and panties and rut against your leaking pussy. but he can’t, choosing to be content with how he has you now. he grits his teeth, pushing away the thoughts as he hears you let out a whimper of his name. he asks with a low voice, “angel, do you feel like you might cum?”

you don’t answer right away, your whines and whimpers filling the air as you try to process what he said. you can feel him twitching under you, rolling his hips up against yours. your head falls to his shoulder, “jaemin, i need… i need to cum!”

his hands grip your hips, setting a pace for you as he grinds you harder against him. it doesn’t take long for you to cum, not when he’s holding you and letting out groans of your name. seeing you so desperate to cum pushes him over the edge, cum staining his boxers as he ruts his hips up.

there’s a comfortable silence between the two of you, heavy breaths filling the air as you collect yourselves. his arms wrap around your back, pulling you into a hug. you smile against his shoulder, your arms trying their best to wrap around his slumped figure on the couch.

it doesn’t take you long to start whining, “i’m hot and sticky all at the same time, jaemin. i think we might need to move.”

he murmurs against you, “let me hold you a little longer, angel. i liked this so much.”

“i did, too,” you press a kiss to his skin, “and as much as i did, i need to shower.”

a laugh fills the space between the two of you, “of course.” he pulls away from you, watching as you stand up on wobbly legs. to your embarrassment, he moves to walk you to the restroom, ignoring your complaints. 

-

jaemin thought that maybe just that once, you would act out on your instincts.

he noticed that you let him be a bit more touchier. he didn’t want to push anything, but he let his hands linger on you a lot longer than they used to. you didn’t even shy away when he would, you’d let his hands stay where they want to be. you’re the same, you kiss him more openly; you try teasing him a bit more, too. 

he likes seeing you be more open with him, likes seeing you feel more confident in your love. he’ll do anything you want him to if it means he can make you feel more comfortable. 

it’s another day that he’s at his apartment with you. you’ve had more time to come over, more time to spend with your boyfriend. he doesn’t expect anything because he has to remind himself: you want to take it slow. he doesn’t mind, he loves spending time with you regardless.

he doesn’t really expect you to come to him that day while he moves you both to his bedroom, a shy look as you approach him, “jaemin…”

he smiles at you, “hey, angel. what is it?’

“can we… can we do what we did the other day again?’

“what do you mean? what did we do exactly?”

you’re not dumb to not notice his sly smirk, a cat-like grin growing on his face. he knows exactly what you mean, but he’s trying to get you to say it. your face heats up, murmuring out words that you can’t even understand.

he moves to sit on the corner of the bed, his head tilting at your mumbled words. he reaches his arms out towards you, “you’re gonna have to tell me what it is that you want, baby. can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

without much thinking, you move to sit down on jaemin’s thighs. he didn’t expect you to move like that on your own, shown by how his breath hitches in his throat. his hands don’t hesitate to move to your waist, bringing you closer to him before they drop to your thighs. his thumbs move to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, causing you to shiver on top of him.

he chuckles at the sight of you, likes how your shorts have ridden up, giving him all access to your thighs. he pushes you right on top of his bulge, and slowly grinds you down on top of him, “i had my baby waiting for too long, hm? i should’ve known you needed me, right?”

you’re already feeling dizzy from his words, trying to grind down on him already, trying to chase the feeling from before. his hands stop you, though, keeping you in place. he bites back a groan when he feels you squirm on top of him, “won’t you tell me how much you needed me?”

your voice comes out breathy, “i- couldn’t stop thinking about you. i tried touching myself, but… it just didn’t feel right without you.”

jaemin’s grip on you gets tighter, his eyes shutting at the thought. imagining you stuffing your hands in your shorts, trying to make yourself feel just as good as he made you feel. he lurches forward, caging you in a heated kiss. he can feel you try to keep up with him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you do.

he can feel how desperate you are, no restraint shown in how you moan into his mouth. you’re more unrestrained, and he loves it, loves how he’s made you like this. he’s just as needy as you are, probably even more than you are. he’s the first one to start moving, his hips grinding up into yours. he’s practically using you like a toy, groaning in your ear at the feeling.

his grip loosens, allowing you to move with him. you drag your clit along his hardening cock, clenching around nothing as jaemin peppers kisses along your shoulder. it feels just as good as last time, but you can't help but feel like you’re missing something. you want him, you need him to help you make you feel good. “jaemin, i-” you whimper, “i w-want more, please.”

he has to forcibly stop himself from grinding up to you, focusing on your words, “what do you want me to do?”

you grab one of his hands, looking at his fingers before placing it back at your inner thigh, “i-i want you to touch me. like how i tried touching myself.”

jaemin’s head tilts back, eyes shutting at your words. you can feel him twitch under you, his hands balling at his sides. he takes a breath before refocusing on you, “can you stand up for me?”

you do, moving off of him, immediately whining when you’re not close to him. he shushes you lightly when he rests against the headboard of his bed, his legs spread, eyes filled with need as he looks at you. “come here, angel. i’ll make you feel good.”

you crawl over to him, and as you’re about to face him, he turns you around so that your back is towards him. he pulls you against his chest, his head resting on your shoulder as he coos at you, “can you take off your shorts for me, baby?”

you’re a bit shy, but do so nonetheless. you struggle, too eager for him to continue. he watches you, eyes zeroing in on the expanse of skin being exposed to him. this is the most he’s ever seen of you, and you’re not even fully undressed. without thinking, he says, “you’re so pretty, angel. so pretty, just for me, hm?”

you’re quick to agree, your back pressing against his chest. you can feel his cock twitch under you, and it makes you more eager. his fingers leave featherlight touches along your thighs, inching close to where you need him most. he hums in your ear, “needed me to feel good, couldn’t touch yourself without my help. you’ll let me help you, right?”

you let out a whine at his words, squirming on top of his lap to get him to continue. he lets out a low chuckle, “my eager baby, i’ll make you feel good. just be patient.”

his fingers trace circles on your inner thighs, enjoying the small noises you let out at his teasing. you don’t try to rush him anymore, trying your best to stay still on his lap. you’re biting down on your lip when his fingers rest on the edge of your panties. he’s sitting there, so close to your heat while pressing kisses to your neck, and you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“jaemin, please touch me. i wanna know how it feels.”

he traces his fingers along your clothed slit. he immediately lets out a shaky breath when he does, realizing just how wet you are from the little touches he’s offered you. you’re like this because of him, and he knows you’ve never felt like this for anyone else. he’ll make sure you’ll never want anyone to do this to you.

“you’re dripping, angel,” his fingers press against your clit, “is it all for me?”

you gasp, hips twitch at the feeling, “y-yes! all for you, please keep going.”

he can’t say no when you ask so nicely, your sweet voice taking over all of his thoughts. his middle finger makes slow circles on your clit, enjoying the way whimpers easily begin slipping out of you. you hold onto his arm for support, your hips trying to rut up in his touch, unknowingly trying to gain more stimulation.

his other hand that’s not touching you pries your leg open, keeping it from trying to shut around his hand. you’re so sensitive, responding to the light touches with high pitched moans, whimpers of his name rolling off of your tongue. he has to forcibly stop himself from grinding into your ass, biting the inside of his cheek when he can feel himself twitching. 

he knows you need more when your nails begin to dig into the skin of his arms. his arm has a hard time trying to keep your legs open for him, caught up in all the sensitivity of his touches. you break when he speeds up the circles on your clit, “j-jaemin, hold on! i might- i might cum!”

“isn’t that what my angel wants?”

you feel embarrassed asking, but if you don’t tell him, he’ll never know, “can we… i wanna feel your fingers on me- or in me.”

jaemin’s head tilts back onto the headboard, all of his restraint lost at your words. “i’ll help you, wanna show you just how good you can feel. is that okay with you?”

“yes… please, jaemin.”

his fingers move to pull your panties to the side, exposing your dripping pussy to him. he bites down on his lip again to contain the moan that threatens to slip out. he can look over and see how wet you are for him, how you’re on display for him. “my angel has the prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen,” he lets out a breath at the whimper that comes from you, “so needy just for my fingers.”

you let out a whine, your hips bucking into the air as you try to search for any friction. he finally gives in, two fingers moving to circle at your clit. you melt immediately, head lolling onto his shoulder, loud whimpers filling the air. he mumbles in your ear, “wanna get you all wet for me before i try fingering you, okay?”

“please keep going.”

he presses a kiss to the shell of your ear, fingers speeding up on your clit. he can feel you begin twitching on top of him, legs threatening to close on his hand. you try to keep yourself spread open for him. jaemin’s other hand slowly trails up your body, reaching under your shirt to one of your boobs. he groans when he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra, fingers meeting a hard nipple.

with jaemin’s fingers on your clit and tugging on your nipple, it doesn’t take long for you to begin dripping all over the sheets. your moans have raised in pitch, calling out to him, begging him for more. “you’re ready for my fingers, angel? wanna feel them inside you?”

a moan of his name slips out of you, pleading for him. he plants a kiss on your shoulder, licking at the spot right after, “of course, baby. gonna take it slow for you.”

his hand slides down, his middle finger making it to your entrance. he shushes you when you start squirming, his finger slowly sliding inside you. it feels different, but good. your legs shut around his hand, and he lets it happen as he watches in awe. you’re so tight, he thinks. he wonders how he’s gonna fit himself inside of your tight pussy.

the thought makes him twitch in his pants, bringing himself back to the task at hand. your legs slowly open back up, your hips rolling in time with the movements of his finger. he didn’t expect to see the sight of you like this this fast. you let out a moan, “wan’ another finger, jaemin.”

“angel’s ready for another?” his ring finger moves to your entrance, slowly entering inside along with his middle finger. he can feel you tightly clench around his fingers, letting out a cry when his palm rubs against your clit. it’s too much, the sensation bringing you quickly to the edge. it’s only intensified when jaemin curls his fingers inside you, finding a spot inside you the sends shocks along your spine.

“feel good, baby?”

you can barely hear him, thighs beginning to shake as he presses he continues presses his fingers against your sweet spot. you’re falling apart quickly, his fingers plunging deep inside you as his other hand moves back to your boob, groping at the flesh. you let out a sob, “gonna cum, jaemin. wanna cum so bad!”

“yeah, gonna cum all over my fingers? go ahead and cum, pretty.”

your head falls back onto his shoulders, a wail leaving you as you cum, clenching on his fingers. his watches you intensely, watches how you’re left a mess because of him. he gives up on keeping your legs open, liking just how much you show how good he’s making you feel. 

he leaves kisses along your neck, his hand thumbing over your nipple and his palm slowly rubbing into your clit. you ride out your orgasm, letting out a squeak when the stimulation feels a little too much. he removes his hands from you, choosing to wrap them around you as he whispers in your ear, “did so good for me, angel. loved watching you fall apart because of me.”

while you’re coming down from your high, jaemin subtly brings his fingers that are wet with your slick to his mouth. he almost wants to moan around his fingers, realizing that you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. he likes the taste of you on his tongue so much, realizing he might just have to do more than finger you next time.

your breaths begin to even out, your mind becoming clear from the haze you were in. you can feel jaemin nuzzle into your neck, but more importantly, you can feel his dick press into your backside. he’s still hard, and you realize he hasn’t cum yet.

jaemin watches as you slowly turn your body to face him, sliding down to your knees. he moves to sit at the edge of the bed, your dazed eyes following his every move. your head moves to rest on his knee, looking up at him with a pretty smile on your face, “are you gonna teach me how to make you feel good?”

he follows your hand that trails up his thigh, dangerously close to his bulge. his angel wants to make him feel good. his hand cups your cheek, thumb sliding across your skin, “gonna be good for me, baby?”

-

over the course of a few weeks, jaemin has been seeing a change in you.

you’re more touchy now, easing into his side as you cuddle on the couch. you don’t shy away when he touches you either, choosing to go along with his antics. you tease him, a playful smile on your face when you let yourself sit on his lap.

now, you try to initiate more intimate acts with him. you’re still a little nervous, jaemin helping you along the way as you lay back onto his bed, fingers moving inside you. you always return the favor, jaemin liking the way you look with his cock in your mouth way too much.  he’s also had the time to eat you out, easily folding when you ask him to use his mouth one day.

which is how he finds himself today, harshly sucking on your clit while his fingers plunge into your dripping cunt. your whimpers and moans fill the air, almost covering up the lewd sounds of jaemin eating you out. every time he does this, he acts like a man starved, licking at your entrance just to get a taste of your slick.

one of his hands makes it to your boob, kneading at the flesh just to get you to moan out for him, just to feel you clench harder around his fingers. you whine when he pulls his fingers out of you, his tongue moving to lap at your hole. what’s different is that his tongue slips in, pressing into your hole.

your hips jut into his face, his nose rubbing against your clit. it feels so new, and it sets off a desire in you. your mind is now needing to be filled up with something more, something that jaemin can easily provide to you.

one of your hands wraps around the one on your boob, moving to interlock his fingers with yours. you can feel him smile against you, speeding up his movements. you call out to him weakly, getting his attention as he hesitantly moves away from your pussy. you try to ignore how his mouth and chin are wet, his low voice asking, “what is it, baby?”

you try to put yourself together, your voice coming out shaky when his other thumb rubs against your clit, “i-i’m ready.”

“ready to cum? i’ll make sure you do.”

before he can plunge back to your cunt, you call him once more, “not for that! well, to cum, but… i think i’m ready to have sex with you.”

at lightning speed, he sits up, eyes bulging out of his head, “really? are- are you sure? it’s not too soon?”

“no,” you smile, “i-i mean, i trust you. i trust you to, um, take care of me.”

he watches as shyness takes over you, avoiding eye contact as you talk. there’s a soft smile on your face, your words being genuine. “you should’ve told me so i could’ve made today more special,” he nags, “i could’ve had a whole day with you, angel.”

you let out an airy laugh, “any time i get to spend with you is special, jaemin.”

he huffs, “if you say you’re ready, then you’re ready. if at any point in time you want me to stop, i’ll stop. we can do anything you want, just say the word.”

“want this, jaemin. want you.”

he lets out an affirming okay, quickly sliding off of the bed in order to take his sweats off, choosing to leave his boxers on for now. he quickly rejoins you, “i’m gonna finger you some more, alright, baby? wanna make sure that you’ll be nice and ready for me.”

you nod, choosing to sit up a little more as you watch two of his fingers slide into you. you’re still so wet, his fingers easily plunging inside you. he scissors his fingers inside you, stretching you out for him. his thumb hooks around to your clit, rubbing in tight circles that has your head lolling back. 

“doesn’t take long for you to get ready for me, hm? my baby just needs my help, right?’ his words shoot straight to your core, pushing you close to cumming. he can feel you clench tightly, adding a third finger as he continues. 

you tell him that you’re close, whining that you want to cum with him instead. he smiles at you, cooing, “want you to cum now, then i’ll know that you’re ready to take my cock.”

you immediately let go, cumming all over his fingers. he knows what sets you off now, how to get you to cum quickly with just a few motions. he grins at the sight of you, “so good for me, my baby is so good for me.”

you swat him away when he tries continuing, a small laugh leaving him as you do. his hand smoothing over your thigh calms you, bringing you back to look up at him with a certain look. he bites down on his lip when you speak, “i think i’m ready- think i’m ready for you, jaemin.”

“yeah?” jaemin tries not to sound nervous himself, “my baby needs me already?”

you nod, covering your face in embarrassment at his words. it’s even more embarrassing when you ask, “you have c-condoms, right?”

he reaches over to his nightstand, fishing one out from the bottom of his drawer. since he started dating you, he hasn’t found the need to buy anymore. he thanks his past self for leaving just a few behind, he would’ve died if he had to say no to you now. a bright smile shines on his face when he shows it to you, laughing at you when you look at it weirdly.

“wanna watch me put it on?”

you laugh at his words, thanking him internally for trying to lighten the mood.

as jaemin slides the condom on, he realizes he wants this just as bad as you do. he notices how his chest is heaving with every breath he takes, and he’s not even inside you yet. his eyes glance up towards yours, looking back at him, pleading for him to just do something. “i’m gonna start moving. angel, need you to tell me if i need to slow down or stop moving.”

you nod sweetly at him, hand moving to cup his cheek, thumb smoothing over his skin. “i love you, jaemin. you can start.”

your sweet words and action has his skin burning up, his cheeks turning red as he lines himself up at your entrance. he can feel how warm you are, his tip sliding over your slit a few times, working the both of you up. his body hovers over yours, moving to press kisses on your neck when he slides in.

your nails dig into his shoulders when he presses in. he lets out a grunt, “s-so tight, need you to relax, baby. can’t move if you’re not relaxed.”

“s-sorry! i just- you’re so big.”

he groans at your words, his head falling to your shoulder again. he slips out of you, giving you a second to relax before you give him the go ahead again. he slowly slips his tip in, wincing when he feels you clamp down on him. he bites down on his lip to stop any embarrassing sounds from coming out, hand soothing your side as he pushes more of his length in.

it’s a weird feeling for you, it doesn’t exactly hurt, but he is stretching you open. nothing this big has been inside you, so used to his fingers. you let out broken whines, asking him to stop at certain points. your nails lightly scratch down his back, 

his hips finally are flush against yours, his cock buried deep inside you. you can feel him twitch, slightly shaking on top of you. he’s trying to calm you down, soft words being whispered into your ear, followed by soft kisses. his thumb snakes between your bodies, tracing light circles on your clit.

if only you knew how much he was struggling not to buck his hips into your cunt. you’re so tight, so warm, clenching down on his cock. your walls are getting used to the intrusion, soft pants fanning across his face. you call out his name, his hips accidentally pushing closer to you as you clench around him. he quickly apologies, eyebrows furrowing at the feeling.

“i-” you let out a breath, “i want you to s-start moving. s-slowly, please.”

“of course, angel. like i said, tell me if i need to stop, if i need to slow down, or anything, okay?”

you nod quickly, jaemin leaning back up, his eyes staring down at where you two are connected. you spare a look, getting embarrassed at the sight. he starts slowly moving, pulling slowly out of you before pushing back in. you can feel every inch of him, your warm walls inviting him in. it’s so easy for you to just let him take over, the feeling slowly bleeding into pleasure as he gets a rhythm.

while you’re getting used to the feeling, jaemin seems to be losing himself in you. every time he moves his hips, he can feel how wet you are. it’s like you try to suck him back in when he tries pulling out, like you need him to keep on fucking you. your arms are wrapped around his shoulder, bringing him closer to you. he’s surrounded by all of you, your scent, your cunt, the pretty sounds you’re making.

when you start moaning his name, he has to stop, head falling to your shoulder as he tries to keep his composure. he knows he can’t just yet, but he wants to fuck into your cunt, wants to have you fucked stupid just because of his cock. the thought makes him twitch inside you, the feeling of his orgasm already bubbling up in his abdomen.

he lets out a shaky exhale before he starts moving again, a little faster than before. “how’re you feeling, baby? tell me how it f-feels for you.”

“feels so good, jaemin! your cock feels so good inside me!”

you clench down on him, your hips rolling up into his. you’re moving in time with his thrusts, your nails raking down his back, leaving trails of red marks for later. he doesn’t care though, not when you’re wrapped tightly around him, not when he gets to hear you moan his name. all he can think about is you, and how badly he wants to flip you over and really fuck you.

“so tight, you keep clenching so tight around me, wanna make this pussy mine. tell me it’s mine, angel.”

“please! ‘s all yours, i’m all yours!”

he lets out a growl, he’s quickening his pace, hands gripping onto the sheets near your head. he needs to kiss you or else he might think about how bad you need him, how he’s been the one to show you all this. you kiss him back, whining into his mouth as your chest arches into his. he can feel your hard nipples against his chest, letting out a low fuck.

he can feel himself getting close, his thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit. he can start feeling you clench around him, your voice rising in volume as you start babbling out to him. he prays that your close, too. he doesn’t think he can last much longer, not with the way you’re wrapping around him.

“gonna cum, angel? you wanna cum, gonna cum with me?”

he sounds so needy, just as fucked out as you are. you can barely register his words, but you know you need to cum just as bad as he does. he picks up his pace, his hands gripping onto your hips as he pounds into you. his low moans join your whines and whimpers, jumbled praises leaving his mouth as he gets closer, “s-so good for me, angel. pussy made just for me, only for me. no one else will ever have you like this.”

you nod, tears pricking your eyes as you come undone, cumming all over his cock. he’s quick to follow, unable to stop himself from cumming when you clench down on his cock. he’s groaning in your ear, quickly moving to messily kiss you. he licks into your mouth, moaning when you start milking his cock.

he slows down, quickly sliding out of you. he sits back on his knees, eyes staring at your spent pussy. he’s broken from his trance when you let out an embarrassed whine of his name. he chuckles when you shut your legs, sliding the condom off before tossing it in the trash.

you’re so tired, all of your energy being used up. jaemin rejoins you in bed, hand smoothing over your thigh, admiring the glow emanating off of you, almost wishing he could take a picture. maybe for another time, he thinks, he’ll bring it up later.

it’s quiet, enjoying the presence of your boyfriend as his light touches move all over. before you can fall asleep, his voice calls out to you, “angel, we gotta get you cleaned up.”

you whine, “but ‘m too tired, you did this to me.”

he laughs, hand moving to hold yours, “i know, i know. let me make it up to you, let me take care of my baby, hm?”

you sigh contentedly, “in five minutes.”

he can’t ever argue with you, easily giving up when he lays right by your side, “five minutes, baby.”

[nochepsicodelica]

Mornings with the clingy bear (Toji my beloved <3) when he wakes up before you, but there's no agenda for the day so he just gets to watch you sleep until you wake up on your own. Despite how much he dislikes when you sleep in without him, being able to admire your peaceful, sleeping features makes up for it. Who would ever assume that this sleeping princess could be capable of wreaking so much havoc, but also be the one screaming mayday? He swears you'll give him a heart attack one day. He's too old for your insanity, but god, he wouldn't ask you to change a thing and he's not dying to get away from you. Quite the opposite, actually. The closer you are, the better.

He was careful not to move too fast, to not wake you up as he traced your dormant features. Green eyes roamed over your lips, your cheeks, your nose and your eyes. He had to fight the urge to not roughly drag you closer towards him and squeeze the life out of you.

Your eyebrows pinch and your nose scrunches, your eyes still shut. "Ugh, it's like you're pointing a laser at my forehead," you croak, pulling the blanket up to cover your face. You're stirring under the blanket, on the brink of waking up. If Toji were a dog, which he's not because he's a bear, his tail would be thumping against the bed <3

You throw the blanket off your head, a lazy smile on your face that heavily contrasted your tone from a couple minutes ago. His attention causes you to giggle. He's so focused on you, it's hard not to laugh.

Finally, you're awake so he can pull you closer. You're already touching, but you're not wedged together and that's exactly what he needs in this moment.

"What's that giggle about? Huh?" He asks, pulling your body right up against his. His nose pokes your cheek, his lips resting on the space just below it, luring another laugh from you.

"You woke me up, like you always do, Toji. I can't ever sleep in with you," you say, no bite to your words at all.

"That's too bad, isn't it? It's why I tell you to go to sleep at a reasonable time yet you still go to sleep past midnight, hm?"

"Whatever."

"Mhm, whatever," he says, copying you. "Whatever, until tomorrow morning when I do it again, but with less mercy."

You groan and turn to face him. You can't even be annoyed with him when he looks so good.

"There are so many things you can do without me in the morning," you say, cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing his skin, affectionately. "You can... go on a walk or watch TV. Ooo, you can get breakfast going so that when I wake up, it's ready."

He mimics the gentleness of your touch on his cheek, his palm rubbing your lower back. "Don't wanna. That's boring."

"Tojii," you whine, removing your hand from his face, attempting to turn away from him.

"Without you," he corrects, using the hand he has on your back to prevent you from getting too far. "Why make breakfast alone when we can do it together?"

"You mean I cook and you either just watch or you get in my way?"

"You know it, mama," he says, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips.

"It's literally eight in the morning, Toji. You should be thrown in jail for disturbing my slumber," you say, attempting to distract him from the color that spreads onto your cheeks.

"Nah, you'd miss me." A smug grin creeps its way onto his lips.

"Mm..." you hum, acting like you're unsure if that's a certain fact. This is you wreaking havoc. You say and do a lot of things that drive him crazy, and now—with proof—even just humming out a response will do that to him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing at all," you say, the hint of a smile on your face.

"No?" If Toji were a dog, which he's not because he's a bear, his ears would be down and his tail would no longer be wagging </3

You sigh. "I'm messing with you. You know I would miss you like hell."

"Oh, really?" He scoffs, in disbelief. "You're ice cold for that, mama. Need me to warm you up, huh?" He says, gliding the hand he has on your lower back across the expanse to grip your waist.

You put your hand over his. "Nope. This blanket is keeping me warm. It does the job just fine."

"I'm better than the blanket," he argues, rolling onto you, unexpectedly.

You groan before you laugh at the feeling of the spontaneous weight laid on top of you, your chest barely able to move with the gesture because of the iron-like hold he had on you. An unbreakable bear hug, if you will :(

"Toji," you say, voice strained yet still managing to muster out your giggling. "Toji, you're crushing me."

"Mm..." he hums, dismissively. He buries his face into your neck, sparing some kisses for it while he listens up close to the sound of your groans of being compressed, mixed with laughter, as you try to push him off. This is you shouting mayday after the chaos you made for yourself and Toji has no intention of swooping in to save you from himself.

You eventually surrender, because all your pushing is futile against Toji, who wasn't moved an inch by you. Lying on you and holding you so tight was beginning to backfire on him. He was starting to feel more like a heated, weighted blanket on you, now. It was reeling in your tiredness, again.

"Mmm... I could fall back asleep like this. Please, can I, baby?" you mumble, shutting your eyes.

"Yeah? Now you're comfortable?" He asks, teasingly, while watching you relax under him.

"You're warmer," you admit. "And clearly more suitable for cuddling."

"You're trynna butter me up, aren't you?" He says, sighing into your neck, tiredness returning to him as well.

"Maybe... One more hour, baby. Please? All I need is one more hour," you say, bringing your arms up onto his back. "I won't complain later when you make me take a nap with you," you add, to further bribe him. "We can do anything you want, too. Nothing is off limits." You turn your head and press a kiss to his temple.

He sighs, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "It's hard to say no to all of that. You gonna be real sweet to me later today?"

"Of course. I'm gonna smother you and be so disgustingly affectionate that you'll want to sleep on the couch tonight for some separation."

He bites. Being loved on by you anytime sounds like a dream. Space will never be his response to your affection, when he thrives off of it.

"Fine," he grumbles, like it was hard for him to come to his decision. "Only one more hour. Gonna stay here, though, since i'm already comfortable."